Standing Down Here, Looking Up There

"Doctor, patient ______ cardiac enzymes came back high, what do you want to do?

"Doctor, Mr. ______ is complaining of suprapubic pain and he can't urinate."

"Doctor, Ms. _____ in room 530? Her migraine still didn't break, what else can we do for her?"

"Excuse me Doctor, Mr.______ is having difficulty breathing, and he's on his second blood tranfusion - I think you should come take a look at him."

When I was in school (which was until 1 week ago) I was primarily repsonisble for doing well in my studies (if that can be called a responsibility). On occasion I was in charge of a group kids either when I was teaching or taking care of a bunch of my younger cousins. I was an RA in college, there I was responsible for keeping the peace on my hall and creating bonds between hall members. When I worked in the library at my medical school, I was responsible for making sure nobody walked off with a book or a laptop. I've been responsible (and irresponsible) with money, and I've been responsible for washing the dishes from time to time.

But I've never been responsible like this.

I've gone from being a kid who's been in school all his life to a young man (who still feels like a kid) who is being called "doctor" by whole lot of people. Like my fellow intern said himself, "When someone calls me 'doctor', I still don't take it seriously." I heartily agree. It's not that "doctor" has some big meaning in society (although it apparently does). It's not that people look up to doctors like gods (that stage in American history has passed -at least on the outward - thank God) - it's that I am starting to really see what being a doctor entails. And since at the same time I know who and what I am in reality, I can't help but not take myself seriously. But others do. The questions at the beginning of this entry (all real questions that were asked of me) are a testament to the fact that others do. I think this is the case right now, but what about in a year? In 2, 5, 9, 21 years? By then I will feel more comfortable with what I know, with my skills and experience as a physician. Will I start taking myself seriously then? My hope is that I don't. In a good way. In a good way, I hope that instead of starting to take myself seriously, I just realize that if you believe in God, that He gives you all the good that you have, then you can't take yourself seriously. You just stay humble. You just stay you. In place of taking myself seriously, I just have to focus on the patient. I just have to focus on learning as much as I can so that I can give the best which is what every person I treat deserves by the nature of this field. I have to focus on being a better person, so I have something of my person to give in my interactions.

But that's not so easy.

The amount of knowledge needed to properly care for the type of patients we see is immense. The amount of time we have to see the patients is little (given that we are being paged for the needs of many patients in one night). The energy that is required to keep on pushing yourself through the night, continuously learning on the run, is high. All these words that I write now, all the thoughts that make me human, are replaced by a sea of data, demands and the exhaution that comes with a 12 hour shift of concentration and focus. Throw in the dynamics of being in an academic setting with expectations that you are concerned about meeting; of interacting and working in a hierarchical setting of various levels of physicians, nurses and administrators; of finding moments to keep oneself spiritually grounded; of combating the fears and doubts about one's own abilities - and it makes for a challenge the likes of which I have never encountered.

There's so much else I could and want to say, but I'll keep it for another time. For now, let's just hope I'll be able to rise to the challenge.