It was 6:30 AM. I heard the garbage truck pull up in front of my house. Crap. I hadn’t put the trash out the day before, but usually that wasn’t a serious problem; they usually come much later in the day. I ran to the front of my house and looked out. The truck was pulling away.
Sigh. It was not a good way to start the day.
Being a doctor involves hearing a person\’s narrative and working to direct it in the best direction possible. There are some people for whom I have become a significant part of their narrative, and others whose narrative I know better than anyone else. It\’s a bond that doesn\’t happen anywhere else.
\”I\’m kind of stumped here,\” I confessed to her, going through my list of possible causes. Together we discussed the possible options of diagnostic testing and treatment. While we talked, she continued showing a glimmer of fear in her eyes. It wasn\’t that she thought she\’d die from this, and I don\’t even believe it was a fear that I couldn\’t help her; it was a fear I would tell her the grass was not green. Maybe her reality isn\’t real. Maybe she is crazy.
Doctor and patient. Insecurity meets insecurity. Weak helping weak.
Humans.
I have a split medical personality. On one hand, I am a pediatrician; I light up around babies and love to mess around with little kids. On the other hand, I am an Internist; I love complex problems and love talking to the elderly. But the one part of internal medicine which gives me perhaps …
