Questions

Our HoU has a smart way of training us into doctors. He has allotted each of us undergraduate students a bed in our Ward. We have to go talk to our patients, ask them for their histories, examine them, and follow them up throughout the time that they are admitted. The moment they get discharged, a new patient gets admitted and the same routine continues.

In the past one month, I’ve only had two patients on the bed allotted to me. Initially, we did not take this allotment that seriously, so I didn’t really talk to the first patient. The few times that I did, I just got a superficial history, nothing more. No, it is the second patient that has made me speculate about the seriousness of becoming a doctor.

To cut things short, this patient has Pneumonia and is a known case of Acute Kidney Injury. The first time I met him, he looked pretty bad. A 60 yr old, coughing incessantly, with a Central line and other tubings put, doesn’t cut a very bright picture. I had a long conversation with his son, who was giving me the history. It included a lot of questions from my side regarding the case, and a lot of questions from his side, regarding the overall prognosis and the future implications.

I have to say, it made me think a great deal. Here was this 40 yr old man asking me, if his father would survive and how long. I, who for all practical purposes, myself, did not know how severe the disease was, had to answer the most important question that a patient can ask a doctor. Such a situation only makes me wonder how brave we have to be, to take up such a responsibility.

I’ve just heard that, ultimately, doctors deal with living beings, so the job is tough. But, we are humans too. How in the world can we just take up the responsibility of deciding how long another of the same kind will live? Patients believe in us. The internet and sophisticated instruments may have made patients more aware, but ultimately they trust us. How strong do we need to be mentally to be able to return that trust?

I told that man pretty nicely that his father would live long in the right precautions were taken. However, when I was going back, I kept asking myself, how was I to know that there was even a need for those precautions? What if that patient was already way past gone? What if I was just giving his son a false ray of hope? Who was I to even pass a small judgment on another fellow?

For such a question, is there even an answer? Even studying all the books on a particular disease will not be able to give me enough power to believe in what I’m saying. If I can’t believe what I’m telling the patient, how can I expect him to believe it? When the patient does believe it, I want to simply shout out to him that I’m not good enough, and he shouldn’t take my word for it.

Such thoughts are scary. Today, I have people above me. Tomorrow, there won’t be any. At such a time, I will need to raise myself up to a level, where I shall get a good night sleep and not worry about whether I have given the right advice to my patients. Self-belief is the toughest to get. When it is a person like me, the task simply gets worse.

The questions that torment me, today, are going to torment me for sometime. After all, I’m not a genius at Medicine. I just hope to strive hard towards being able to answer them. In doing so, I know I shall be able to be what I want to be.

A GOOD DOCTOR.