Solidarity

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

Dr. Seuss

This past week has energized me in so many ways. As part of my rotation, I had a meeting to discuss my residency application portfolio last week. It felt great to be reassured that I’m on the right path and to make a plan for moving forward. I’m glad that I’ve had the time these past few weeks to think about how I want to practice medicine and who I want to be as a doctor. The longer I’m in the hospital, the more apparent it becomes that communication and the ability for a team to work together are vital to a patient’s care. Maintaining clear lines of communication between patients and the team is crucial for building trust. Receiving different messages from different sources can be extremely frustrating for everyone involved. It sends a message that people aren’t communicating with one another and are most certainly not listening. Involving patients and families in the discussion and coordinating with the entire team to establish a shared plan can go a long way for clearing up confusion and making sure everyone’s on the same page.

We had a patient this week with complex medical needs whose mom had been receiving differing messages from various members of her child’s team. She came into the clinic exasperated and desperate for answers. While we couldn’t give any concrete explanations for her daughters medical issues, my preceptor did what others had not. She listened to the mother’s concerns and asked how she could best be of help. She reassured her that she would be there with her every step of the way. She would support and advocate for her and her child in whatever capacity was needed. Immediately, the mom breathed a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed, thankful to finally be heard. While they might take more time, encounters like these are infinitely more productive and rewarding. Sadly, they aren’t always the norm. It can be easy to get caught up in all of the checklists, paperwork and documentation that need to be completed each day. If we lose sight of what brings meaning to our work or why we’re even doing this to begin with, we lose our purpose. Is there any wonder then that burnout is such an epidemic in so many fields? Though I’m still a student and figuring out what advocacy looks like for me, it’s fulfilling and something I undoubtedly want to embrace in the future.

Like my preceptor, my goal is to fight for my patients, in whatever way they need. At the same time, I want to empower them with knowledge about their treatment and health so they can advocate for themselves. My parents and physicians made sure I participated in and always knew the details of my medical care, so when I took the reins and started going to appointments on my own, I wasn’t clueless and felt confident handling things myself. That transition period is a time when many patients fall through the cracks. They move to a new area for school and can’t find a doctor willing or able to see them. They get kicked off of their parent’s insurance at age 26 and can no longer afford their medication, but no one asks or takes the time to follow up. They get labeled as drug seeking or written off as making up stories when they’re truly sick, but no one is listening. These, among others, are real systemic issues people face that keep them from seeking medical care. There is certainly no great answer and there are larger societal factors at play that need to shift in order to make any real change. Until then, we can do our best to make a difference one patient at a time. Doesn’t the saying go “be the change you want to see in the world”? I’ve got a long way to go and in some ways am still finding my voice, but I’m stubborn and don’t easily back down from a challenge. Tell me I can’t do something and I’ll turn around and make you eat your words. I may be small, but I pack a punch.