I I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. Just like “supporting the community” or “doing the right thing”, the idea of ”helping people” can be very vague and almost meaningless. So even though I started medicine with good intentions, even without the details of who I wanted to help and how I was going to do it, I quickly learned how difficult it really is to help someone.
The truth is, the idea that a sick person comes to see a doctor, is diagnosed and treated, and then leaves feeling cured and satisfied is somewhat strange. For example, we can help patients suffering from dementia take their medications on time, but we can treat the underlying brain disease. There is very little you can do. If a diabetic’s blood sugar level becomes too high, it can lower it, but it cannot actually cure diabetes itself. , even the best treatment cannot stop the actual problem from progressing.
So, early in my career, frustrated at not being able to help my patients to the degree I wanted, I started playing a game called “Medical Degrees and Puppies.”
Every time I saw a patient, I asked myself: Is this patient’s problem better dealt with by myself, who has 10 years of rigorous medical training and is certified in paramedics, or by a yellow Labrador wagging its tail?
I have written a spreadsheet. A “medical degree” almost wins, but that was hardly reassuring. It was somewhat unnerving that it was quite a close match. Plus, closing the occasional shift and noticing that “Medical Degree” lost to “Cute Puppy” is a deeper statement of modern American medicine than any article I’ve ever read on a newspaper’s op-ed page. bottom.
The game is effectively this: Many of our patients are already well aware of the limitations of modern medicine. Of course they appreciate our treatment, but in the end what they really want is just to feel better. They want comfort and security. They want to be taken care of.
Dogs are good at this. They lie on our laps and express affection. They care deeply about how we feel. They allow us to tell our stories and are never in a hurry to leave our side. So it doesn’t offer a breakthrough and certainly doesn’t dose pharmaceuticals, but it still offers great comfort.
Of course, what dogs readily offer is exactly what modern American doctors don’t. There are fewer opportunities to sit by and explain how to use it. Each new management initiative means more tasks to complete and less time to complete. The cutbacks and bureaucratic demands of corporate-controlled health care force us to sprint each day to accomplish the bare minimum of keeping our patients healthy, often simply slowing down. Drop it and you won’t be able to perform the important task of listening to your patient. As a result, we find ourselves in the odd position of having saved a patient’s life. I understand
And as I found myself on the losing side of the end-of-shift pup tally, I came to understand that if I could successfully execute on my original intention of “helping people,” it probably wouldn’t. . Just apply the skills you learned in medical school. Providing the right medical care is not enough.
we need to do more. We must take back control of our healthcare system from the corporate control that caused so many runaway problems. Safe staffing mandates should be in place so that hospitals can have more doctors and nurses and slowly return to patient bedsides. We need and end for-profit healthcare that treats patients like bureaucratic boxes that need to be checked off. If we’re really going to find ways to “help people,” I’m going to make our healthcare system more like my dog than a sterile bureaucracy.
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