As life has slowed significantly, I have directed my focus into 1 of 3 activities -
1. Spending time with my family.
2. Studying for my board exams.
3. Putting in my share of the work on our local ambulance company.
The only one of these three that has been at all stressful has been #2, otherwise life has returned to what we would consider normal. However, #2 has produced within me a significant amount of tension. I try not to presume that I will pass on my first attempt, thus allowing me to have a good work ethic. But the more I remind myself that it's possible for me to fail, the more I feel I need to stress about studying and preparing. On top of this, I'll score 80% or better on a practice test one day, then the next day I will score a meager 65% (sometimes lower). The latter days are very stress producing. All this serves to throw more uncertainty onto my perception of how I rank amongst my colleagues and whether or not I will pass on my first attempt. I add into the mix the fact that my employer is expecting that I will pass (and will be less-than-happy if I don't) and it goes up a notch.
All this to say that, though I've dealt with an inordinate amount of stress over the past 2.5 years without a hiccup, the final hurdle is causing me a little bit of heart-burn. I am trying to avoid worrying, doing my diligence by studying, and trusting that God has got me right where He wants me. I try to be reminded often that He got me into school, He helped me pass every test, He carried me through clinical year, and now, because of Him, I've graduated. If I were to fail, it would have happened long ago. So my hope is that this final hurdle will pass without difficulty. I'm scheduled to take the exam on 23 Sept, at 1100 hours. I think it will be a good day.
But in the meantime - I'm thoroughly enjoying having some extra time to take EMS calls with the wonderful crew of our volunteer ambulance agency.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Graduation!
Yesterday I graduated. It was awesome and awe inspiring. I, along with 18 other outstanding individuals, received the certificate that will allow us to practice medicine. I am humbled to be in this group. Our school has graduated almost 1500 PAs over its history and I am honored to be in this group.
I also received an award for exemplifying the spirit of our school. Our founder had a vision for the PA profession - namely participation in rural communities, improvement of access to the underserved, and commitment to excellence in medicine. On top of that, the school has made a commitment to the success of their students. To be very frank, I had no hopes of special awards and didn't purposefully alter any behaviors to achieve any. But my goal all along has been to be of service and support to my classmates, to maintain a positive attitude throughout all of the challenges we've faced, and, ultimately, to glorify God as Christians are called to do. I give Him all the credit for any achievements or excellence that I obtained over the past couple of years.
The past 2.5 years have been a wild ride. In reflection I went from someone who thought he knew a lot to someone who realizes, at least to a certain extent, just how little I really understand about science and the human body. There is a lot I have to learn and now I have been given the magical piece of paper that says I'm allowed to. Very exciting times.
I also received an award for exemplifying the spirit of our school. Our founder had a vision for the PA profession - namely participation in rural communities, improvement of access to the underserved, and commitment to excellence in medicine. On top of that, the school has made a commitment to the success of their students. To be very frank, I had no hopes of special awards and didn't purposefully alter any behaviors to achieve any. But my goal all along has been to be of service and support to my classmates, to maintain a positive attitude throughout all of the challenges we've faced, and, ultimately, to glorify God as Christians are called to do. I give Him all the credit for any achievements or excellence that I obtained over the past couple of years.
The past 2.5 years have been a wild ride. In reflection I went from someone who thought he knew a lot to someone who realizes, at least to a certain extent, just how little I really understand about science and the human body. There is a lot I have to learn and now I have been given the magical piece of paper that says I'm allowed to. Very exciting times.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
T minus...
3 days and counting.
This week we are presenting and defending our final projects and performing some board review. So far, so good. I have been greatly edified by the board review and I feel a bit more confident today than I had been feeling about passing the exam that has appeared as the guide-post over the past 2.5 years.
I still find myself terrified of the responsibility that is coming, but I feel ready to pass the certification exam, get my license, and begin practicing as a PA. I have a job (I don't recall if I mentioned that yet) and am thankful for that. With all of this going on I have been humbled by the number of my classmates who have not had even an interview yet, let alone multiple interviews without a job offer. I am one of the fortunate - blessed - ones.
All is well, and I'm ready to go. Just 3 more days. And what a great 3 days it will be.
This week we are presenting and defending our final projects and performing some board review. So far, so good. I have been greatly edified by the board review and I feel a bit more confident today than I had been feeling about passing the exam that has appeared as the guide-post over the past 2.5 years.
I still find myself terrified of the responsibility that is coming, but I feel ready to pass the certification exam, get my license, and begin practicing as a PA. I have a job (I don't recall if I mentioned that yet) and am thankful for that. With all of this going on I have been humbled by the number of my classmates who have not had even an interview yet, let alone multiple interviews without a job offer. I am one of the fortunate - blessed - ones.
All is well, and I'm ready to go. Just 3 more days. And what a great 3 days it will be.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
The last day
As it turns out, my last day of clinical rotations was a day earlier than I expected. At about 1430 and 3 patients into our "minor care" afternoon I experienced sudden onset of shaking chills, dizziness, fatigue, slight confusion (I kept getting words mixed up), and what later turned out to be a temp over 101. This developed into what I think was strep pharyngitis and otitis media. The first ear infection I ever remember having. Long story short, I didn't make it to work on Friday.
Thus Friday was a bittersweet day for me. Very sweet in that I knew there were no more clinical hours to be logged by me... No more patients to be entered into the computer tracking software... No more of the tedium of that part of becoming a PA. But it was quite bitter in that I had made it through 119 out of my 120 day rotation without an illness of any kind to be laid low by something so simple. It was frustrating - like being pulled from the big game in the last minute of the fourth quarter because my shoe came untied and I tripped.
That said - I did manage to have a good and productive week. I was reminded again that cultural differences mean volumes when addressing patients and working at providing good patient care. I must remind myself of this often. I need to be wary of bringing my pre-conceived ideas into the exam room when discussing options or the best method for caring for the patient, or even in how I approach decisions so simple as, "Sew 'em or send 'em to the ER?"
In all, though, I feel an enormous and immeasurable sense of relief. It is so good to be done with all of that. I can't really put it into words. Just a few small steps now until graduation and until I get that -C after my PA. Then the world will take shape and I'll actually realize what I've gotten myself into! I still can't wait.
Thus Friday was a bittersweet day for me. Very sweet in that I knew there were no more clinical hours to be logged by me... No more patients to be entered into the computer tracking software... No more of the tedium of that part of becoming a PA. But it was quite bitter in that I had made it through 119 out of my 120 day rotation without an illness of any kind to be laid low by something so simple. It was frustrating - like being pulled from the big game in the last minute of the fourth quarter because my shoe came untied and I tripped.
That said - I did manage to have a good and productive week. I was reminded again that cultural differences mean volumes when addressing patients and working at providing good patient care. I must remind myself of this often. I need to be wary of bringing my pre-conceived ideas into the exam room when discussing options or the best method for caring for the patient, or even in how I approach decisions so simple as, "Sew 'em or send 'em to the ER?"
In all, though, I feel an enormous and immeasurable sense of relief. It is so good to be done with all of that. I can't really put it into words. Just a few small steps now until graduation and until I get that -C after my PA. Then the world will take shape and I'll actually realize what I've gotten myself into! I still can't wait.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
1 week to go
There is one more week until I finish my clinical training. I am unbelievably happy about this. The excitement is barely containable. I have struggled with "short-timer's" syndrome a lot, but I think that I can finish strong.
Unfortunately, I don't have any in-depth insights on this upcoming week. It feels as if I have learned all the clinical year had to offer me. I know that the forty or so patients I will see in this upcoming week will teach me something, though. Let me just look back at what the patients in the past week have taught me:
1. When someone complains of a fever and shaking chills, ALWAYS check their ears. I knew this already, but got slapped and humiliated this week for an instant of complacency. Just because the patient doesn't complain of ear problems does not mean they don't have ear problems.
2. Hepatitis C is a nasty virus, but it is very treatable and our patients don't have to die of cirrhosis and horrible liver failure just because they've got this bug. Apparently, genotypes II and III are cureable at a rate of 70% and new medications on the market have brought genotype I up to a cure rate of at least 50%.
3. I will get yelled at occasionally by my patients no matter how much I know or how good my bedside manner is. There is always one out there that cannot be pleased.
4. 11 patients in one day is a lot for me, but I can do it, even if some of them are very sick or complex.
These are but a few of the lessons I've learned in the past week, but it shows that each week there is a list of lessons that can be gleaned. So hopefully as I enter the last week of my clinical training and as all those who come after me reach the same milestone, we will avoid complacency, we will always be ready to learn something, and hopefully this last week goes off without a hitch.
Unfortunately, I don't have any in-depth insights on this upcoming week. It feels as if I have learned all the clinical year had to offer me. I know that the forty or so patients I will see in this upcoming week will teach me something, though. Let me just look back at what the patients in the past week have taught me:
1. When someone complains of a fever and shaking chills, ALWAYS check their ears. I knew this already, but got slapped and humiliated this week for an instant of complacency. Just because the patient doesn't complain of ear problems does not mean they don't have ear problems.
2. Hepatitis C is a nasty virus, but it is very treatable and our patients don't have to die of cirrhosis and horrible liver failure just because they've got this bug. Apparently, genotypes II and III are cureable at a rate of 70% and new medications on the market have brought genotype I up to a cure rate of at least 50%.
3. I will get yelled at occasionally by my patients no matter how much I know or how good my bedside manner is. There is always one out there that cannot be pleased.
4. 11 patients in one day is a lot for me, but I can do it, even if some of them are very sick or complex.
These are but a few of the lessons I've learned in the past week, but it shows that each week there is a list of lessons that can be gleaned. So hopefully as I enter the last week of my clinical training and as all those who come after me reach the same milestone, we will avoid complacency, we will always be ready to learn something, and hopefully this last week goes off without a hitch.
Friday, July 29, 2011
2 weeks
Today marks the two week mark until the end of my clinical rotations. After that, I have two more weeks until I graduate. Thus, I am four weeks from graduating after 2 1/2 years of work that has changed the way I think, changed the way I function, and changed the landscape of my home and family. This is perhaps cheesy, but examining myself before PA school and comparing that individual to the present is an interesting mental exercise.
2 1/2 years ago I could not have told you what BUN, Creatinine, or GFR are. But this past week I spent a good amount of time managing a patient with wild abnormals for all of these and, essentially, turning kidney failure around. Now, granted, I have not repaired any kidneys and I have certainly not changed the course of kidney disease significantly. But I helped a patient stay out of the hospital, which was her biggest wish. And the idea that I could ever have the skills, the resources, or the will and daring to attempt to manage something like kidney failure in the outpatient setting would never have even crossed my mind. I had oversight - my preceptors were there the entire time and ready to keep me from killing the patient. But I put the knowledge that my instructors instilled in me to work and made the right choices so that they didn't have to jump in and take over and instead they stood by and watched as the patient's condition improved, much to my surprise. Despite knowing the right information and making good decisions, I still wasn't sure the treatments I prescribed would have the effects necessary to achieve the desired result - thus I was pleasantly surprised and gratified that things are looking up.
Even comparing myself now to a year ago - I had just finished my didactic year, my brain full of facts and protocols and ready to begin my real training. But when I set foot in my first rotation, my eyes were big as saucers and I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. My first consult in the ER was more a rote memory of how to perform an H&P than it was the application of learned skills. That I happened upon the right diagnosis at the time was more luck than knowledge, and even now I always say, "it's better to be lucky than good," when I have a success. The point is that I marvel at the change. It is cliche to say that I've progressed by leaps and bounds, but it describes the situation well.
I am grateful to God for my successes and give Him the credit. And I still pray that, even though I helped turn kidney failure around, my hands will be blessed and the patient will have a good weekend and be waiting to greet me at the door to the clinic on Monday morning rather than lying in a hospital bed having been admitted while I wasn't watching.
What have I gotten myself into?
2 1/2 years ago I could not have told you what BUN, Creatinine, or GFR are. But this past week I spent a good amount of time managing a patient with wild abnormals for all of these and, essentially, turning kidney failure around. Now, granted, I have not repaired any kidneys and I have certainly not changed the course of kidney disease significantly. But I helped a patient stay out of the hospital, which was her biggest wish. And the idea that I could ever have the skills, the resources, or the will and daring to attempt to manage something like kidney failure in the outpatient setting would never have even crossed my mind. I had oversight - my preceptors were there the entire time and ready to keep me from killing the patient. But I put the knowledge that my instructors instilled in me to work and made the right choices so that they didn't have to jump in and take over and instead they stood by and watched as the patient's condition improved, much to my surprise. Despite knowing the right information and making good decisions, I still wasn't sure the treatments I prescribed would have the effects necessary to achieve the desired result - thus I was pleasantly surprised and gratified that things are looking up.
Even comparing myself now to a year ago - I had just finished my didactic year, my brain full of facts and protocols and ready to begin my real training. But when I set foot in my first rotation, my eyes were big as saucers and I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. My first consult in the ER was more a rote memory of how to perform an H&P than it was the application of learned skills. That I happened upon the right diagnosis at the time was more luck than knowledge, and even now I always say, "it's better to be lucky than good," when I have a success. The point is that I marvel at the change. It is cliche to say that I've progressed by leaps and bounds, but it describes the situation well.
I am grateful to God for my successes and give Him the credit. And I still pray that, even though I helped turn kidney failure around, my hands will be blessed and the patient will have a good weekend and be waiting to greet me at the door to the clinic on Monday morning rather than lying in a hospital bed having been admitted while I wasn't watching.
What have I gotten myself into?
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Up in the air
I think I've discussed this in the past and if I haven't then I have certainly thought it - the uncertainty in life is killer for someone like me.
First I struggled with the uncertainty surrounding going to PA school. I put in a decent amount of effort the first year that I applied and interviewed with my program and waited as patiently as possible. When I received the, "We regret to inform you..." letter the uncertainty nearly overwhelmed me. Should I even be pursuing this? Am I supposed to go to PA school? I made up some ground by gaining more experience and applied again. Once again, the uncertainty ate at me. Will they call? For this program, if you get a phone call you're in... if you get a letter you're out. Now we know that the call came. Praise God.
Then there was a lot of waiting and uncertainty about how well the didactic year would go. Am I up for this challenge? I prepared myself mentally as well as possible and put in as much effort as I felt I could and the Lord blessed didactic year.
Following that I was uncertain about clinical year. You get the drift. What will come through the door next? Am I up to doing surgical consults in the ER on the first day of my surgical rotation? And so on. And here I am, almost done with clinical year.
The next level of uncertainty lies ahead of me. Where am I going to work? How will I be paying our bills in 6 weeks? What about our student loans? Things are looking up for us - there are definitely job prospects, yet nothing is set in stone. So there is a lot of room for uncertainty here.
In the end the take home point that I hope to pass along to my children and anyone who might take a moment to hear it is that there will always be uncertainty. Moving through life will present us with much uncertainty at every turn. The Bible tells us to be wary of saying, "I will do this or that tomorrow." This is the way God has made the world. And looking back, I see better why we need to trust Him to get us through each uncertain obstacle. He is good. Romans 3 tells us that "All things work together for those who love God and are the called according to His purposes." Looking back on the last 2 1/2 years I can see in a very real way how God works to bring all things together - how He blesses us.
My hope is that someday I will be able to relax and have faith during times of uncertainty to avoid overstressing myself and those around me. Maybe someday I'll grow up to that level... Only time will tell.
First I struggled with the uncertainty surrounding going to PA school. I put in a decent amount of effort the first year that I applied and interviewed with my program and waited as patiently as possible. When I received the, "We regret to inform you..." letter the uncertainty nearly overwhelmed me. Should I even be pursuing this? Am I supposed to go to PA school? I made up some ground by gaining more experience and applied again. Once again, the uncertainty ate at me. Will they call? For this program, if you get a phone call you're in... if you get a letter you're out. Now we know that the call came. Praise God.
Then there was a lot of waiting and uncertainty about how well the didactic year would go. Am I up for this challenge? I prepared myself mentally as well as possible and put in as much effort as I felt I could and the Lord blessed didactic year.
Following that I was uncertain about clinical year. You get the drift. What will come through the door next? Am I up to doing surgical consults in the ER on the first day of my surgical rotation? And so on. And here I am, almost done with clinical year.
The next level of uncertainty lies ahead of me. Where am I going to work? How will I be paying our bills in 6 weeks? What about our student loans? Things are looking up for us - there are definitely job prospects, yet nothing is set in stone. So there is a lot of room for uncertainty here.
In the end the take home point that I hope to pass along to my children and anyone who might take a moment to hear it is that there will always be uncertainty. Moving through life will present us with much uncertainty at every turn. The Bible tells us to be wary of saying, "I will do this or that tomorrow." This is the way God has made the world. And looking back, I see better why we need to trust Him to get us through each uncertain obstacle. He is good. Romans 3 tells us that "All things work together for those who love God and are the called according to His purposes." Looking back on the last 2 1/2 years I can see in a very real way how God works to bring all things together - how He blesses us.
My hope is that someday I will be able to relax and have faith during times of uncertainty to avoid overstressing myself and those around me. Maybe someday I'll grow up to that level... Only time will tell.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Tragedy
The past few weeks have presented me and my family with the opportunity to work through the rigors of PA school while undergoing family tragedy. There have been a number of aspects to this struggle, as most of you have experienced with your own personal tragedies. We are by no means unique in this, but I am relating the story to share the experience with others so that they might better understand or at least commiserate with PA students and students of other medical professions. Again I apologize for being purposefully vague, but the details belong to us.
It began about three weeks ago when a routine doctor visit yielded bad news. News that we had dreaded, yet it came nonetheless. I was thankful for compassionate preceptors who allowed me some time to deal with the bad news, but the next day I was back at work trying to make good decisions and be precise through a muddied mind, distracted (gladly so) by grief. I was grateful that I had a supportive environment and a can-do family, otherwise I would have been unable to bear the weight of everything going on.
The second chapter (or the last half of the first) came today - another phone call striking me in my emotional gut, leaving me distracted and unable to think about anything but my family for quite a while. But today, right after the phone call, I entered a patient room and the nice lady sitting there immediately started crying. It seems our life tragedies had coincided on this day. The difficulty I had was that my mind wanted to be elsewhere, my emotions were flowing in the equivalent of a re-entry tachy-arrhythmia - feeding upon themselves and blunting my empathy. I was able to push it aside for our hour-long (though it was only intended to be a 1/2 hour) appointment and we even made some progress... for the patient. Following that patient, I saw a lady I have been treating for depression and we worked through her struggles. At the end of this day, my mind is numb, I lack much emotion and despite the weight of what is going on around me, I feel less than engaged, not as present as I should be.
Thus today I had a valuable experience - balancing the emotional needs of my patients with the emotional needs of my family have become truly competing demands and I have worked through the first in what I am sure will be a long series of such episodes. I can't say I have achieved success - it is too early to tell. But I have survived the day, my family is resting at apparent peace, and my patients ambled back through the waiting room with many a thank you, appearing content with meds in the pharmacy and consults/referrals ordered.
God is good, even in times of great trial. May we never forget it.
It began about three weeks ago when a routine doctor visit yielded bad news. News that we had dreaded, yet it came nonetheless. I was thankful for compassionate preceptors who allowed me some time to deal with the bad news, but the next day I was back at work trying to make good decisions and be precise through a muddied mind, distracted (gladly so) by grief. I was grateful that I had a supportive environment and a can-do family, otherwise I would have been unable to bear the weight of everything going on.
The second chapter (or the last half of the first) came today - another phone call striking me in my emotional gut, leaving me distracted and unable to think about anything but my family for quite a while. But today, right after the phone call, I entered a patient room and the nice lady sitting there immediately started crying. It seems our life tragedies had coincided on this day. The difficulty I had was that my mind wanted to be elsewhere, my emotions were flowing in the equivalent of a re-entry tachy-arrhythmia - feeding upon themselves and blunting my empathy. I was able to push it aside for our hour-long (though it was only intended to be a 1/2 hour) appointment and we even made some progress... for the patient. Following that patient, I saw a lady I have been treating for depression and we worked through her struggles. At the end of this day, my mind is numb, I lack much emotion and despite the weight of what is going on around me, I feel less than engaged, not as present as I should be.
Thus today I had a valuable experience - balancing the emotional needs of my patients with the emotional needs of my family have become truly competing demands and I have worked through the first in what I am sure will be a long series of such episodes. I can't say I have achieved success - it is too early to tell. But I have survived the day, my family is resting at apparent peace, and my patients ambled back through the waiting room with many a thank you, appearing content with meds in the pharmacy and consults/referrals ordered.
God is good, even in times of great trial. May we never forget it.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Fixing children
I want to share a brief experience I had the other day that left me feeling essentially elated over the fact that I will soon be able to practice medicine.
The case was almost as straightforward a case as it gets - I won't include any details at all so it will be quite a vague recollection. At any rate, a kid comes into the clinic not feeling well. I took a thorough history, did a thorough exam, and everything was pretty unremarkable. I selected a medicine that would treat the symptoms well and allow the child to recover essentially without intervention aside from some short term diet changes. The kiddo had a very good response to the medicine, I monitored to make sure there were no side effects and that the medicine was indeed having the desired effect, and the child's persona changed on the spot. It went from looking and feeling sick to looking like a normal little one and almost bouncing down the hall on the way out the door. The turnaround was drastic, and gratifying.
Family medicine definitely has its perks, and fixing children is a BIG one.
The case was almost as straightforward a case as it gets - I won't include any details at all so it will be quite a vague recollection. At any rate, a kid comes into the clinic not feeling well. I took a thorough history, did a thorough exam, and everything was pretty unremarkable. I selected a medicine that would treat the symptoms well and allow the child to recover essentially without intervention aside from some short term diet changes. The kiddo had a very good response to the medicine, I monitored to make sure there were no side effects and that the medicine was indeed having the desired effect, and the child's persona changed on the spot. It went from looking and feeling sick to looking like a normal little one and almost bouncing down the hall on the way out the door. The turnaround was drastic, and gratifying.
Family medicine definitely has its perks, and fixing children is a BIG one.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Jading
This post is as much a request for feedback from experienced professionals as it is a warning to those who will be PA, NP, or medical students reading these words later on.
In several of my rotations I have noticed that some of the more seasoned providers have become rather presumptive about some of our patients. Granted, they know our patients better than I do and I am still the student so I have to learn to approach difficult patients with caution. But the providers I have worked with that I am talking about herein are providers who have made assumptions about our patients like, "He just wants pain meds," or, "She's just looking to get high." It appears from my perspective that these providers are becoming jaded with their experiences, as if they've been burned by drug seekers too many times to be able to remain objective and avoid jumping to conclusions. I say this because I, in my naivety, have approached them with a blank mind (quite literally sometimes) and have found some pretty profound pathology - a patient who I suspect of having an ACL tear, or a patient who has significant osteoarthritis, and several others.
To the experienced providers I ask this: is there a method by which you have avoided this pitfall so as to maintain functional ability with difficult patients? It is my short experience that if we can maintain a sensitive approach to even our most difficult patients, then we will be able to treat them more effectively. Am I wrong?
To those students who are coming after me, I offer you this from my experiences (stop me if you've heard this story): many months ago I was working in the ER when a patient bounced back from earlier that day. This was a young girl who had been complaining of back pain but now she was coming in with severe abdominal pain. In passing a nurse commented about her prior visit to the ER and the likelihood that she had, "Just not gotten what she wanted." I bought into that thinking about her right away and it was reinforced as I watched her roll by on the stretcher writhing in pain. As I went in to examine her I was unimpressed by her pain given that she reacted excessively to every test that I did - minor pressure on her belly elicited near screams. She had no other symptoms that I could find. I presented the case to my preceptor who taught me a valuable lesson that day - he said, "Yeah, it could be a bounce-back because she didn't get the meds she wanted... Or she could have something wrong in her belly, so let's look." He ordered an ultrasound and found a GIANT ovarian cyst, reaching nearly up to the patient's ribs. As soon as I heard that I hung my head in shame... I had made a bad assumption based on very little evidence, and I was dead wrong. I would have been infinitely better as a provider if I had not assumed as much as I did, and I hope that I never forget the shame I felt that day - it was a good teacher.
In several of my rotations I have noticed that some of the more seasoned providers have become rather presumptive about some of our patients. Granted, they know our patients better than I do and I am still the student so I have to learn to approach difficult patients with caution. But the providers I have worked with that I am talking about herein are providers who have made assumptions about our patients like, "He just wants pain meds," or, "She's just looking to get high." It appears from my perspective that these providers are becoming jaded with their experiences, as if they've been burned by drug seekers too many times to be able to remain objective and avoid jumping to conclusions. I say this because I, in my naivety, have approached them with a blank mind (quite literally sometimes) and have found some pretty profound pathology - a patient who I suspect of having an ACL tear, or a patient who has significant osteoarthritis, and several others.
To the experienced providers I ask this: is there a method by which you have avoided this pitfall so as to maintain functional ability with difficult patients? It is my short experience that if we can maintain a sensitive approach to even our most difficult patients, then we will be able to treat them more effectively. Am I wrong?
To those students who are coming after me, I offer you this from my experiences (stop me if you've heard this story): many months ago I was working in the ER when a patient bounced back from earlier that day. This was a young girl who had been complaining of back pain but now she was coming in with severe abdominal pain. In passing a nurse commented about her prior visit to the ER and the likelihood that she had, "Just not gotten what she wanted." I bought into that thinking about her right away and it was reinforced as I watched her roll by on the stretcher writhing in pain. As I went in to examine her I was unimpressed by her pain given that she reacted excessively to every test that I did - minor pressure on her belly elicited near screams. She had no other symptoms that I could find. I presented the case to my preceptor who taught me a valuable lesson that day - he said, "Yeah, it could be a bounce-back because she didn't get the meds she wanted... Or she could have something wrong in her belly, so let's look." He ordered an ultrasound and found a GIANT ovarian cyst, reaching nearly up to the patient's ribs. As soon as I heard that I hung my head in shame... I had made a bad assumption based on very little evidence, and I was dead wrong. I would have been infinitely better as a provider if I had not assumed as much as I did, and I hope that I never forget the shame I felt that day - it was a good teacher.
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