Getting to know me, Real Medicine

Why I Paed

il_fullxfull.1060268322_b3xh_1b44cb32-38e5-43f0-83cd-e66691807124_grandeWhenever I talk about my love for child health, and my intention to pursue it as a career, I get this kind of response:

“Oh, I could never work with kids. It just breaks my heart to see them suffer!”

I don’t get it.

I mean, maybe I’m a cold-hearted bitch, but I don’t think so.

I hold children down and stick them with needles, because I know it’s necessary to make them better. I scrub burn wounds and I encourage parents to wait outside because I know they’ll cry and/or likely try to assault me for hurting their babies.

I also use topical anaesthetic cream liberally and question IV lines when I don’t think it is absolutely necessary. I’m liberal with analgesia prescriptions because pain is more harmful than useful in a hospital setting.

I see malnourished and abused children, and sometimes I bite my tongue raw to keep my temper.

I’ve told mothers that their children had cancer, and I’ve told them that their kids would be developmentally delayed for the rest of their lives. I’ve told them that their kids will live, but that they will be long-term patients.

(Thankfully rarely) I’ve informed parents that their baby was no longer alive.

* * * 

But I give more high-fives than I give pain.

I get gummy smiles and snotty laughter and the wide-based gait of children waddling around my legs.

I call in the social workers and the dieticians and we (try to) address systems, not just lapses in judgment.

I get to pick up a crying infant and feel it relax, because although human contact isn’t medicine, sometimes it’s just what you need in that moment. Both of you.

I get to discharge more patients than I ever have to declare demised.

When I tell a parent that their child is disabled, I get to tell them about disabled people who don’t only live, but THRIVE.

I get to admit a shocked child, and see her running around the ward two days later.

I get to witness the purity of the human spirit first-hand.

I tread among the future.

Paediatrics is the great success-story of 20th century medicine, and I rarely cry for it.

* * * 

Adult medicine? Oh I couldn’t. I’d cry all day.

Current Affairs, Real Medicine

Patients Don’t Want Exhausted Doctors

Before you read what I have to say, you should read Dr Nikki Stamp’s post: How tired is too tired?

One day, I’d like to have a study to prove the post title. But for now, we’ll have to settle for another anecdote:

tired doctor Continue reading “Patients Don’t Want Exhausted Doctors”

Getting to know me, Real Medicine

One Year On

Exactly one year ago, I started Internship. Hard to believe that the terrifying days just kept coming, until one day they weren’t so terrifying anymore.

Today marks the beginning of my second year of Internship, as the new interns arrive. I am excited for them, mostly. I also have quite a few friends coming!

I’ll be on call today on the surgical service. I anticipate a busy busy 24 hours; because with great celebration comes great trauma, unfortunately.

One year from now, if all goes well, I’ll be starting my community service year – in a different province, different hospital.

I don’t really know what to expect for the year ahead. To be honest, I haven’t even had time to make goals or plans. But I trust it will be a year of great learning and experiencing.

What a time to practise medicine, indeed.

Getting to know me, Real Medicine

Working the Festive Season

Christmas and New Year’s is such a fun time in South Africa. It’s the middle of Summer. The weather is gorgeous, perfect for swimming and braaing, spending time with family, and reading.

It’s my first festive season of working full-time.

nurse-working-christmas Continue reading “Working the Festive Season”

Current Affairs, Getting to know me, Real Medicine

Sometimes I Don’t Want To Know

a4c50964f550a70443d53e51fe887a82I didn’t want to know that the man with the compound skull fracture had fallen into a sewer drain while being chased by the police because he was the man that had been scamming poor people out of their grant money for months.

I didn’t want to know that the man with the gangrenous arm had been bitten two weeks ago, by a girl he was trying to rape.

I understand the importance of a good clinical history. But right now, while I’m saving their lives, can I not simply know that he fell in a ditch? Or that he suffered a human bite?

I don’t want to know WHY these things happened to them. Not right now in any case. Tell me later, when they have pulled through the worst. Tell me then, if you must.

Is this wrong? Continue reading “Sometimes I Don’t Want To Know”