It’s been a little over week now that I finished my first block of medicine wards as a PGY1. Med wards thus far is the most similar to what I expected residency to be like. The days were long and the tasks seemingly endless often times, and yet the days also flew by because there was always something to do. Not all of those tasks were “doing medicine” in the way most probably think of it. It’s not like I spent 12+ hours per day prescribing medicine, doing procedures, reviewing blood test results and body scans. Many days the “medicine” seems to be the minority of of the work, with the rest being talking to patients, talking to families, coordinating care, and preparing for next steps. Through all of this, I couldn’t help but feel like this is where I am meant to be.
In my last week, one of the patients, Mr. P, who was on since the start of this block was being discharge to a SNF for rehab. He wasn’t the easiest patient, but not because he wasn’t an agreeable person, in fact he was a lovely person. He just had some difficult and conflicting medical problems. On top of that he mainly spoke Vietnamese, making it difficult to communicate with him at times, even with the use of a translator. I did the best I could to take the time to make sure he understood what was going on and address any questions or concerns that he had. He often took up the most of my time, despite being one of the most medically stable patients on my list at any given time.
On the day of his discharge, I went in to give him the news and say goodbye to Mr. P. After again answering any questions and addressing his final concerns I shook his hand and said goodbye. As I did, he held my hand tightly in his and in his broken English said, “Thank you… You are good doctor.” My gaze went from our hands to his eyes which were welling up with tears.
I wasn’t the one who fixed his broken leg, or the one that delivered his pain medication, or changed his dressing, but I suspect I was one of the few people who came in throughout the day to listen to him and talk to him, not just perform a task. That to me is what the art of medicine is about, and I’ll never forget Mr. P for reminding me of that.
nANIMOv 