I love my tutor. Of course not
that way, but I really appreciate his genuine desire to teach us and lead us during our training. I really like the dynamics of my clinical skills group. Today, I had the chance of practicing some of my clinical examination skills over at Scarb General. We were each given our own patients to interview. We were expected to take a full history as well as completing a partial physical examination under given time restrictions. I was lucky to have gotten an old man who I felt comfortable speaking with. He really reminded me of my late grandfather. I was nervous as "h-e-double-hockey-sticks" and anxious to proceed with the examination. Following the session, we each had to give our presentations and findings under the clock. Lucky me, I was chosen first to give my mini-case report and was given some constructive feedback. It's amazing how precise and meticulous doctors need to be in their professions. The hospital is as a matter of fact a battlefield, a warzone against millions of these microscopic bugs and screaming patients who tell you that they want chicken served to them instead of that cold and dry piece of mush that might have been sitting in the freezer of the hospital basement kitchen for who knows how long.
Afterwards our presentations, all six of us jumped into the clown car Oscar because Danielle's car was fried, and headed back downtown to listen to some guest lectures. Leaving the hospital, I got an epiphany. Today was just one of those days; the days when something hits you in the head with this amazing realization of what you've been meaning to do all along. For me, it came as a feeling of longing more than anything, what I want to do with my life, a goal... I'm starting to get the feeling that I want to be a family doctor. Right now, I don't think there can be anything else as rewarding as sustaining long term relationships with patients and their families. I just want to dive into their lives and explore what there is to discover.
Lecture was ok. I slept through a fair bit of it. After several slides and minutes (which felt like hours) of endless droning from the lecturer's mouth, I passed out on my table, sound asleep like a baby.
It's not that I don't enjoy learning about cystic fibrosis, the lecture was just a bad teacher. They were either incoherent or they spoke with heavy thick accents nobody can understand. Why couldn't I get the best of both worlds like yesterday? Enjoy the topic AND get great lecturers?
Yesterday was one of those occasions. My entire class got cramped into the auditorium of St. Mike's hospital to listen to the cystic fibrosis team speak about their individual roles of helping CF patients extend their lives. We heard from a few adult CF survivors give their life stories. Some of these speakers fought back tears of frustration and sadness that they had to suffer or see their CF friends pass away before them. I can't begin to imagine what type of endurance and brutal strength of characters these people must have in order to make it each day. I have gained a new profound respect for all of those involved with CF -- be it the patients, the healthcare team, the fundraisers for the CF organization -- all of those who cooperate together for a cause greater than themselves.
Now, while sitting back and reflecting upon all that I have written, the thought of what a privilege I have to be in my position comes across my mind. I think as physicians, or physicians-in-training, it is important that we should never possess the attitude of condescention. It's humbling to know what great power and responsibilities we have to uphold society's health. As William Osler, the famous Canadian physician puts it best:
“The practice of medicine is an art, not a trade; a calling, not a business; a calling in which your heart will be exercised equally with your head. Often the best part of your work will have nothing to do with potions and powders, but with the exercise of an influence of the strong upon the weak, of the righteous upon the wicked, of the wise upon the foolish.”
