"Slow Down, Doctor!"

Did you ever have one of those months where it seems that every time you finish up for the day another pile of work suddenly appears before you? That's what my July has been like. I can't seem to get my patients taken care of before another voice in the wilderness cries out for help. It reminds me of raking leaves on a Saturday in October when a sudden gust of wind scatters the pile across the yard and shakes the tree limbs, raining a thousand more golden stars down on one's head. Sometimes one needs the élan of a pontiff in order to make it through a typical day tending to the ailments and crises of the less-than-perfectly-healthy populace. Is this unusual?

No, it is not. I've said this before and I'll say it again: woe to anyone who chooses medicine as a career and also happens to be a misanthrope, or a sourpuss, or worst of all a shirker. Your life will be miserable and the aura you project will repel colleagues, lovers and dogs more efficiently than strolling around Acapulco wearing a sandwich board stating "Yo soy un cabrón."

Those who want to succeed in a medical career that includes patient care had better love to meet-and-greet the masses, not to mention examining them, listening to them, worrying about them and taking umpteen telephone calls about them.

This doesn't mean, however, that doctors are required to spend all day and all night caring for the ill. That's what a residency is for, har har. Once we get the hang of it, our daily routine should be as easy to complete as mastering the art of water skiing (provided we follow The Cheerful Oncologist's rules for a happy career - vide supra).

Some doctors learn to work fast. I am one of them. The reason is simple - I don't find much enjoyment in getting married, having children, keeping a house, dog, back yard, elliptical machine, etc. and then never coming within one mile of them. This seems counterintuitive to living a balanced life, assuming that one considers a balanced life "a consummation devoutly to be wished."

Last week I was rushing down the hospital corridor on my way back to the office when a passing nurse cried out "Slow down, Doctor!" I laughed and scurried on as before, and thought about what she was trying to say. Was she afraid I was going to have a heart attack, or just run into some unsuspecting pedestrian? Maybe she was embarrassed at the speed I was traveling compared with hers - did my haste mean I cared more than she did? What if she thought that no one should be permitted to work at a faster pace than the rest of us - that it was unfair to all the workers in the world that one of us would dare to outshine all the others? Am I overinterpreting this little incident?

Oh, and by the way - who cares? I am not going to slow down. Speed is in my blood and I will continue to use it to my advantage. There's no greater feeling than completing two day's worth of work in one and still getting home in time for dinner, especially if the seventh game of the World Series happens to also be on that night - and this time St. Louis prevails.

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This post sure had some kind of timing in my life. I, as a reluctant patient..so think of how busy my own Dr. is, I feel his pain and his overwhelming sense of being pulled in a million directions. I sometimes put off my own needs, for fear of putting too much on an already demanded professional. I dont' want to be, that just "one more thing to deal with." How can we as patients better help our overwhelmed physicians? How can we help them, to help us? Some patients really do care that you get home to your families and care that you need down time too.

this is a sensitive, excellent set of questions you ask, Cmarie. as an on-again-off-again patient who cares very much for her physician (read: UBER grateful), i too would like to know the answers. would the good doctor care to elucidate?

I too am a harried oncologist, with 4 children under the age of 6 who cry like banshees when I run out the door to care for my patients.

My daughter asked if I could get fired so I could work at McDonalds. Her thought "if mom worked at McDonalds, I could see her more because I like to eat there". Hmmm, maybe one should slow down from time to time (and flip burgers....)

By kzoo-oncdoc (not verified) on 19 Jul 2006 #permalink