Chocolachillie

Open letter to an anonymous doctor

April 10, 2008 · 1 Comment

If you are the person I think you are, I want to thank you for helping somebody whom I’ve developed a great deal of respect for. If I’m not right about your identity, thanks for responding anyway.

The issue here isn’t that I deny that being a medical professional can be extremely difficult. That is why I became a librarian and not a doctor. :-)You chose medicine, knowing that you were choosing a tough field to work in. Therefore I will acknowledge your problems without feeling the need to sympathize much. No, I haven’t really worked with the general public. Also a choice I made, given my lack of patience. But I can imagine your frustrations. My hat off to you. Of course medical professionals are humans first. And I think therein lies a big part of the problem, as you would probably fully agree. Doctors are human and make human mistakes yet many people are in a disadvantaged situation intellectually dealing with doctors. This impacts on their perception of doctors and doctors’ powers. And it places so much pressure on already overworked individuals. Expectations are so high, as you rightly say. (Some doctors don’t do much to dispel the myth that doctors are always right though. Or at the very least they act extremely defensive if they are questioned. )

Look at what you are mentioning as the ideal of care:

Of course we learn and practice communication skills, wholistic health care, non-conventional medicine, patient-centered practice and a whole endless host of other things to try and do better in some of the areas you mentioned in your posting.

What you are talking about in terms of holistic and patient-based practice is not reality. It is what doctors should aspire to. I’d love to hear what you consider holistic care. I think that, whatever our respective definitions, we would agree that the time spent with the patient and getting to know the patient would impact on how well this works. Maybe where you are, in Australia, you come closer to the ideal. Certainly not here, where a GP will spend 15 minutes per patient, if that. Admittedly, some would spend more, if they feel there’s a need, but I cannot conceive of anybody who wouldn’t be unnerved by a whole waiting room full of people waiting to be seen - thus being less effective. State hospital care is even worse in terms of time. As evidenced by Anna, our childminder, going off to the state hospital once a month at 5:00 in the morning and only getting helped at 15:00 - without getting huge questions marks concerning her health adequately addressed - there is no question of holistic care..We suspect that she is diabetic. No sign of diet being addressed. Having the same first language as your patient would help. Here that is not a given as we have 11 official languages. English not being my first language, I feel at a complete disadvantage walking into a consulting room seeing somebody from a different language group. And my English isn’t bad. (English being the chosen lingua franca in South Africa. So the person I see may be Zulu-speaking and we’re both using a language different from our own.)

Look at the words you use: endeavours desire try… Striving for something does not mean this is what happens. Or even that all doctors remotely share your concerns. I hasten to add that I’m glad that you, at least, try.

I’ll admit to having an ax to grind with doctors because of their attitude towards Loren. Lunch? Mothering? Other patients? Good grief, do you think I would be this bitter, this sad if it was that? I’m talking face to face refusal and/or inability to help my child. Not being able to ever find an appointment for him with some doctors and yet easily finding one for my typical child. First thing mentioned a DNR order. How would you feel if this was your family member? Your child even?

Actually I have started looking critically at medical care and allopathic medicine long before Loren was born. 10 years ago at least. My feelings of anger and sadness about what happened is not clouding my mind about what I’ve been seeing happening for years before.

I could spend pages upon pages on debating some of the things you wrote, but I’m not going to. I’ve already written too much. If you care to continue this conversation, you are welcome to indicate that I can e-mail you and I will.

On a lighter note, I’m relieved to learn that you’re not a thief, think you’re God’s gift to humankind or operate under the influence of an inflated ego. Good for you. And yes, sorry, I was out of line with those remarks!

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1 response so far ↓

  • Carina // June 2, 2008 at 8:20 pm

    I don’t think you need to apologise to the doctor for anything. I find it hard to read your blog. Maybe because we so closely relate in the way we think. Don’t know yet. But I just read a little every now and then. This letter you wrote, could word for word be what I said to some highly educated doctors! Mostly out of frustration and maybe isolation. Yes, they probably don’t have all the answers, but dammit, make the effort!!! I am not an incompetent mother and mostly I just tell them what is wrong, they prescribe the drugs. Simple as that. But for once, I just don’t want to stress about who will be WILLING to see my son. It is never their field. During this last episode where he stopped breathing, the poor GP on call made several phone calls trying to get a paediatrician WILLING and apparently SUFFICIENTLY qualified to handle my son. The only one willing, was one fresh out of medschool. She did a brilliant job and I commend her for that, but this poor doctor shouldn’t try and pretend that all doctors help all the time. As I said, you don’t have to apologise at all. The doctor is living in a make believe world - or maybe, I should move where she practices, she is really a rare species.

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