For all those secretaries, nurses, medical assistants and other staff members who spend their days working in a doctor's office - this comment, made by one of my patients today, is for you. Please do not ever think that your efforts to help the sick are unappreciated. You are more valuable to the patient (and the doctor) than you think.
"Mr. X, congratulations. You are now five years out from your diagnosis. I know you've been reluctant to have your portacath removed, but now after five years I think it is time to get it out. Then you won't have to come to the office every month to have it flushed."
"Doc, I like coming to your office. You have such great people working for you and I look forward to my monthly visit with them. Can I leave the catheter in for now?"
"Yes, you may leave it in."
The thought suddenly hit me that my office just might be a place of respite for those who wander in a vast desert of demoralizing anguish - an oasis of kindness and good cheer that some find hard to abandon, even after their recovery has been assured.
In this age of increasingly high expectations and awkwardly declining service, how rare it is to find someone who enjoys interacting with health care workers. Despite the temptation to succumb to bureaucratic apathy, self-centered resentment, bloviating vanity, venal dissemblance, plus a few other goodies like fatigue, discouragement and cosmological frustration, some nurses and doctors continue to glow like the sun, bathing all whom they meet with rays of enthusiasm and devotion. Where do they find the power to carry on?
There are as many answers to this question as there are faces at work today, faces at hospitals and offices all across this country responding to the needs of those who suffer. No matter where they find their inspiration, those who excel at their efforts will produce a similar outcome. This is the reason why my patient returns month after month:
"I just like to come here to see good people at work, making good things happen. See you next time, Doc."
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That's awesome. It's good to hear these kinds of success stories. I wish you many more years of dedicated staff and satisfied patients. :)
Do you still "install" portacaths? I had mine removed in 1987.
I loved my port. I really miss it, especially when I have to get needles. Couldn't your patient just drop by to say Hi every now and then?
This week I had an appointment at a new specialist's office. I was so nervous I almost puked in the car on the way. The clerk who greeted me was expecting me and actually welcomed me to the office. Then the nurse, resident, and doctor all proved to be warm, informative, involved, and happy to be where they were, doing what they were doing. It's tremendous when the people who have your life in their hands are obviously quality, competent professionals and decent human beings.
Dear Dr Craig,
Love your writing!
I just had a moment where I could hear your voice speaking the words, it was the same as "Charles Winchester" from MASH. LOL
I found that type of interaction to be very common and interesting with people who were post-treatment. They would seem to enjoy coming in for any excuse to see us. It seemed that especially with those who were on disability or retired, that our chemo office were an oasis for them. I often thought that a new non-profit start up idea would be to start an employment office for people who were in the "treatment limbo" or disability, where they could enjoy the socialization, and sense of work but not be obligated to any set hours or performance standards. It would provide a distraction from their suffering, and they could do useful things when they felt they were up to it.
I can so understand that. I was treated for cancer a few years ago and have been in remission for three and a half years since my SCT. I've also just finished my third year of college. Nobody really understands what the last few years have been like, and after hitting remission all support seems to stop.
During treatment you see your nurses and all so much and they're always there - you don't really appreciate how much being able to tell someone you're scared or being able to discuss which college course to take (when you really mean 'should I be choosing a college course') matters. After treatment ends you're pretty much on your own and it's lonely.
I think for me, it's like I wouldn't ask for the support because I wouldn't want to waste people's time when frankly they have better things to do. But if I was going in every three months or so for some checkup, I would be all "Meh! Have to go back in to clinic... such a pain!" but it would help because then you could talk about all the niggly little things that worry or frighten you or make you sad that aren't worth making an appointment for.
I think a lot of things are like that though, not just cancer. In my college we have an academic advisor and normally we see them two or three times a year and then there's not that much to say because there aren't usually any big issues and all the silly little things that have bothered you over the past few months seem too insignificant to say. But last year my academic advisor also taught me once a week and I think that worked a lot better - it made me happier anyway - because then you could talk about careers, or ask about lecture courses or get advice about something you were finding tricky without having to wonder if you were making a fuss about nothing. I think I felt like it'd have to be something big and important "I'm failing my degree/my tutorials aren't working out etc" to make a proper formal appointment, when most of the time what I need help with is a two or three minute query or a bit of reassurance or just a smile and a bit of a chat.
This has got rather long - I think what I'm trying to say is that the clinic is sort of like a safety net. I remember sometimes in my first year of college having a strong homesick type feeling, and wanting just to be in clinic/the ward just for one night, just to be with other people who would understand. I think I've been lucky with having amazing doctors, nurses, friendly receptionists and everyone really.