I'm thankful that I'm about to start the part of my medical career where I can interact with people regularly, and more than just seeing people, but seeing the same people more than once and getting to develop a relationship with them. Studying, for all it's worth, can only bring so much gratification (if much at all, most times). The real payoff in studying is when it is finally put to use in helping someone. Every once in a while, I get those little moments here and there, and I can remember why I'm pushing down this hard road of medical training.
My younger cousin has systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) or "lupus" as most people have heard it called. She's only 17. I think most people have at least heard of lupus but few seem to know what it is. Lupus is an autoimmune disorder, where your body creates antibodies that bind proteins in your blood, and they get stuck in the blood vessels and cause damage when immune cells react with them. It can cause lung, kidney, skin, heart, and joint disease, and at one time was a very serious disease. Now it is very treatable, with most people living perfectly normal lives, to some extent.
My cousin got in touch with me because she had recently seen her doctor and was getting a couple of new medications, and knowing her older cousin James was going to be a doctor, decided that I would be able to answer her questions. Questions aside, she told me she was glad I was her cousin who she could talk to about medical issues. Soon the conversation turned away from the medications and on to how living with lupus has affected her life. She's frustrated and upset that she tires easily, and can't play soccer or softball like she used to. She told me she wishes she didn't have lupus and could go back to life without it. It breaks my heart hearing those things, but it makes me so happy to hear her tell me that she loves me and loves to be able to talk to me because I can understand what she's going through. Perhaps it's a little more rewarding because she's family, but you see, she thinks I'm a hero.
I have a friend who is sold out to be the best doctor he can be. He took the MCAT this spring while also taking Histology, a traditionally demanding class from what I hear. I frequently see him out studying when I visit the Artisan, and oftentimes he has stopped me to ask questions on things he's unsure about. Pretending to actually know more biomedical science than I perhaps really do, I answer him to the best of my ability. He also oftentimes asks me questions about the process of getting into medical school, why I want to be a doctor, and so on. One day, while checking my email, I received a letter from him thanking me for being an excellent role model and something of a mentor to him. I'm just doing my best to give of what I know.
My pastor gave a brief dissertation over a passage from the book of Phillipians on Saturday night. Really, it was a random, obscure passage that didn't have much of a "traditional" lesson in it; there was no parable, no sage words of wisdom, but only some personal comments from Paul to the Philippians. In a table with observation and interpretation notes was one section with a phrase "Care so much that it hurts!" This can be all too easy, mostly because it is hard to love others deeply without desiring some kind of feedback. A "thank you" here and there, someone's praise in front of others, others returning the love to you. It's easy to get let down when you realize that most of the time you're giving upwards of ten-times the love as most people return to you. It's wearisome, you get tired, you get bitter and feel jaded and the world is no longer beautiful, but rather a harsh take-without-give reality. I know that feeling pretty well.
The biggest reason I get so tired is because of the above mentioned reasons, or to state it differently, because I am seeking the return love of other people, when I should be seeking it from God. Studying Romans 5:5 today a book mentioned the signifigance of the phrase "poured out his love for us", and that in the Greek "poured out" signifies a gushing source that doesn't end. God's love doesn't end. It was a rather good lesson to turn to this morning, at a rather useful time.
So that's a little sidetracked maybe, but here's how for me I tie it together: I am going to be constantly giving and loving from everything I have (and as a Christian, I'm called all the more to love others with everything I have), and if I don't have some source to refresh from, those stores of love and caring will get taxed and eventually dry. I have to pray quite often, and quite pleadingly to God, that I be restored and renewed with his love so that I can love others. Today as I was walking the street by my house I was praying that, and I felt like there was a pouring into my heart of something refreshing, something filling me back up to be ready to pour out on others. It's rather profound, perhaps, but at the same time simple. So long as I am diligent about going back to the source of love, it'll be rather easy to be a hero when I need to be. And maybe, even when I'm not trying to be because it'll be such a natural extension of the love God's shown me already.
No matter the reasons for it, I know one thing is certain, that I love people and caring for them, and to find myself pursuing a career where I am paid to do it? That's priceless.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Saturday, May 05, 2007
My last day in the classroom
Today was a very special occasion. I am officially done with classroom-based schoolwork. I will occasionally have a lecture to go to, but my day-to-day routine will not be lecture/classroom based. From here on out, I will be working directly with the patients, and I can't wait.
It was also the last day that Docapella, as it is this year, would likely ever perform together. As is customary we sang on the last day of lecture for both the M1's and M2's, first in the morning (for the M1's) and then the afternoon (for the M2's). Singing Billy Joel's "Longest Time", I felt we sounded the best we have ever sounded, which made the occasion even more memorable. Our voices harmonized, our fingers snapped in rhythm, and we had our audience completely captivated. Even this evening studying at Lakota, a classmate said that our performances will be the most missed thing about the first two years lectures. That's a huge reward to hear.
After my exams next Wednesday - Friday, I will kick studying into an even higher gear as I make a final 3-week push to prepare for the boards on June 2nd. This is the first and often mentioned most important of the boards, as it is the test score residency programs look at the most, and can influence how much of a chance you have to get into a competitive field. A week after that I will start my psychiatry rotation.
I am really excited about doing the psychiatry rotation, even though right now I am not considering it as a specialty. I think that I am somewhat nervous about talking to people with mental disorders, but at the same time am in no way intimidated. I have always felt a great fulfillment in listening and talking to and caring for someone through the giving of my time and my heart, and I think that psychiatry is the best example of a medical field where that can be most explemplified.
I don't think I can in any way promise to have as great an influence on a mental patient's outcome in 6 weeks as a physician can over the course of an ongoing relationship, but I care for the patient as one person to another. I sincerely hope that after six weeks the patients I have been able to see will say that they felt sincerely cared for and listened to, and if I can help better their life by that alone, I think I'll feel I was effective.
It was also the last day that Docapella, as it is this year, would likely ever perform together. As is customary we sang on the last day of lecture for both the M1's and M2's, first in the morning (for the M1's) and then the afternoon (for the M2's). Singing Billy Joel's "Longest Time", I felt we sounded the best we have ever sounded, which made the occasion even more memorable. Our voices harmonized, our fingers snapped in rhythm, and we had our audience completely captivated. Even this evening studying at Lakota, a classmate said that our performances will be the most missed thing about the first two years lectures. That's a huge reward to hear.
After my exams next Wednesday - Friday, I will kick studying into an even higher gear as I make a final 3-week push to prepare for the boards on June 2nd. This is the first and often mentioned most important of the boards, as it is the test score residency programs look at the most, and can influence how much of a chance you have to get into a competitive field. A week after that I will start my psychiatry rotation.
I am really excited about doing the psychiatry rotation, even though right now I am not considering it as a specialty. I think that I am somewhat nervous about talking to people with mental disorders, but at the same time am in no way intimidated. I have always felt a great fulfillment in listening and talking to and caring for someone through the giving of my time and my heart, and I think that psychiatry is the best example of a medical field where that can be most explemplified.
I don't think I can in any way promise to have as great an influence on a mental patient's outcome in 6 weeks as a physician can over the course of an ongoing relationship, but I care for the patient as one person to another. I sincerely hope that after six weeks the patients I have been able to see will say that they felt sincerely cared for and listened to, and if I can help better their life by that alone, I think I'll feel I was effective.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
My Homeless Friend
If any of you who bother to read this have talked to me at any point this year, you know that this is a very grueling school year. Lately especially, with block exams and board exams looming, I have been even more pressured by school. However, Sunday was a very good day. The whole town of Columbia seemed to be on pause; while downtown standing outside the Artisan talking with my mom on the phone I noticed only two cars driving in any direction from where I could see. There wasn't but a couple people now and again walking through the district, and the air was still. The Artisan was equally peaceful being about a quarter full at best, with low-playing Beatles music and the sound of milk steamers and coffee grinders occasionally interrupting. I was studying for block exams while being kept company by a friend analyzed a research article and proofread a report. I was already feeling blessed and in a good mood by the time I met Jeff, who taught me what I believe God had in mind to say to me that good day.
I was using the restroom and had just discovered that the soap dispenser was empty, when Jeff offered me some of his own liquid soap. He was at the other sink at the counter brushing his teeth. On the counter was his styrofoam cup holding water, a pocket bible open to a much-highlighted page of Psalms, and a cloth tote bag that contained shampoo, liquid soap, and other necessities.
Jeff and I began to talk, and he confided to me that he was currently homeless but had complete faith that God would care for and provide for him. He wasn't always homeless, and had even been in college and considered a health care profession. He demonstrated a still-keen memory of medical terminology by discussing the various terms used to describe stroke, cerebrovascular accidents, QRS-T EKG complexes, and so forth. He married however and settled down, although a habit of giving more time to friends and drinking lead to an unhappy wife, and though he didn't specifically mention it he is no longer with her. A friend convinced him to come to Missouri, where life was slower and he would find it easier to get along.
Now in Missouri, he has the next two months to wait to find out whether he will receive disabilities pay and potentially be able to live in Paquin tower or another similar housing situation. Despite many hardships he shared, he continually repeated the joy and reliance he has on God for his needs, and the thankfulness he has for even the smallest pleasures. It shames me to think how often I have taken for granted something so simple as being able to get a meal out at a restaurant, or a warm bed, or email, or a hot shower, when this man lives from what he can carry on his shoulders. That alone is perhaps the only telling sign he is currently living homeless. He criticized other homeless individuals for shooting themselves in the foot by not keeping good hygiene, or by their disrespectful attitudes and rudeness that prevents them from having the same welcomeness Jeff has in establishments such as the Artisan or Panera.
Jeff praised the simple joy of seeing the fireflies, even if he doesn't have a roof. He told of his overwhelming joy in the Artisan's Gourmet Grilled Cheeze, simply because it is not familiar enough to be mundane to his senses. He spoke earnestly about his desire to "break bread" with me sometime, just to enjoy that pleasure. Jeff amazed me with his utter hope and reliance on God. He did not deny that he desired a safe home, with a shelter, and bed, and human comforts, but despite his lack he would not be bitter. He was even more thankful than some of the most wealthy people I have ever met for the little things. I believe he prays in earnest:
" But as for me, I will always have hope;
I will praise you more and more.
My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
of your salvation all day long,
though I know not its measure."
Psalms 71:14 - 15
I was using the restroom and had just discovered that the soap dispenser was empty, when Jeff offered me some of his own liquid soap. He was at the other sink at the counter brushing his teeth. On the counter was his styrofoam cup holding water, a pocket bible open to a much-highlighted page of Psalms, and a cloth tote bag that contained shampoo, liquid soap, and other necessities.
Jeff and I began to talk, and he confided to me that he was currently homeless but had complete faith that God would care for and provide for him. He wasn't always homeless, and had even been in college and considered a health care profession. He demonstrated a still-keen memory of medical terminology by discussing the various terms used to describe stroke, cerebrovascular accidents, QRS-T EKG complexes, and so forth. He married however and settled down, although a habit of giving more time to friends and drinking lead to an unhappy wife, and though he didn't specifically mention it he is no longer with her. A friend convinced him to come to Missouri, where life was slower and he would find it easier to get along.
Now in Missouri, he has the next two months to wait to find out whether he will receive disabilities pay and potentially be able to live in Paquin tower or another similar housing situation. Despite many hardships he shared, he continually repeated the joy and reliance he has on God for his needs, and the thankfulness he has for even the smallest pleasures. It shames me to think how often I have taken for granted something so simple as being able to get a meal out at a restaurant, or a warm bed, or email, or a hot shower, when this man lives from what he can carry on his shoulders. That alone is perhaps the only telling sign he is currently living homeless. He criticized other homeless individuals for shooting themselves in the foot by not keeping good hygiene, or by their disrespectful attitudes and rudeness that prevents them from having the same welcomeness Jeff has in establishments such as the Artisan or Panera.
Jeff praised the simple joy of seeing the fireflies, even if he doesn't have a roof. He told of his overwhelming joy in the Artisan's Gourmet Grilled Cheeze, simply because it is not familiar enough to be mundane to his senses. He spoke earnestly about his desire to "break bread" with me sometime, just to enjoy that pleasure. Jeff amazed me with his utter hope and reliance on God. He did not deny that he desired a safe home, with a shelter, and bed, and human comforts, but despite his lack he would not be bitter. He was even more thankful than some of the most wealthy people I have ever met for the little things. I believe he prays in earnest:
" But as for me, I will always have hope;
I will praise you more and more.
My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
of your salvation all day long,
though I know not its measure."
Psalms 71:14 - 15
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