A short list...
of things I should be doing, in the order in which they should probably be done:
1. Get off of the couch. (Meet the Press is over. There's nothing else worth watching.)
2. Shower.
3. Get dressed.
4. Fold the laundry that remains in the basket after you've removed what you need to accomplish #3.
5. Schlep your ass over here. (And I say schlep because this really isn't very close to my house. At all.)
6. Buy that suit.
I've been sitting on my ass for almost two days now, doing my part to debunk the myth that medical students work all the time. In fact, I'm practically on vacation. I'm doing Rheumatology clinic right now. This translates to three half days a week in which I go in to work, ask the patients about their symptoms, and then watch the attending either treat or totally ignore them as his mood dictates.
The other day, I introduced a patient to the attending by saying, "This is Mary Whatchamacallit, and she hurts all over. Her arthritis is as bad as it's ever been." I then suggested a med, which, I'll admit, I pretty much pulled out of my ass, as I don't really know much about Rheumatology. He poo-pooed my suggestion and then said, "Well Mary, I'm glad you're doing so well. I'll see you again in about six weeks."
And that was it. We were done.
As he shook her hand and stood up to leave the room, I sat across from her thinking, I had to iron dress pants to be a part of this crock of shit? Unbelievable.
Mary, if you're reading this, it's time for you to find a new doctor.
And it's time for this wannabe doctor to go buy that suit. This lounge wear probably won't work for those residency interviews next month. (Although, I do wear it quite well.)
7 comments:
As a rheumatology patient, I would like to say,
AMEN!
It took me almost 10 years to find the right doctor, and when he listened, helped me, told me I wasn't crazy and that I am the most classic example of an advanced case in women he's ever seen... I giggled for three days.
I later had to switch to a dr. closer to home because I couldn't travel the hour to see the other anymore, and the new doc was great too because the old doc had done all the work.
Dear Mary Whatchamacalit:
It is possible to find a doc that's not a narcissist. You just might have to go through hell first. But it's actually worth it to not feel invisible. Good luck.
To Terroni and Sara: Amen!
Terroni, your skeptical attitude is why you're going to be (are!) such a great doctor. Go girl!
PS I have a couple of suits that would fit you and look just right. I've been keeping them while I wait for just the right person to hand them over to. Come on down to Oz and we'll have a fitting session :)
Poor Mary! Sheesh!
If you lay on the couch for a few more weeks, T, you may begin to experience similar pains to rheumatism yourself.
Haul your ass up and go buy that suit.
I once went to the somerset collection* and got lost for three days. A security guard found me begging for change outside of Saks and told me to move along.
*I say this with as much sarcasm as I can muster. I guess if you're a mall and you have valet parking, you're officially a collection.
Sara, I'm glad to hear you found someone better than the guy I'm working with.
Madame, that sounds really tempting...for more reasons than one.
Dive, $660 later and I have a gorgeous suit. Which I will now wear until I die. And then, they can bury me in the damn thing.
jw, I finally made it there today. High end shopping in one of the worst economies in the country...the place was empty.
That is incredible - it's one thing to say there's not much you can do for a patient (because sometimes, there just isn't), but another to totally deny their relaitty. Now that I think about it, I had a boss like that at my last job.
God, someone get me a paddle. I want to whomp that doctor's ass.
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