Death is an unfortunately common event in the field of medicine. How do you deal with it? How do you keep from dwelling on it, letting it shape your practice, making you too calloused or too emotional? These are important questions to think about as you begin your journey in patient care.
He is younger than me! This is not happening. This could have been me. These … Read more
If you read one book this year, make it When Breath Becomes Air. Do yourself a favor – do not read another word about this book before picking it up and experiencing it for yourself with as little foreknowledge as possible. For those of you who just can’t help yourselves, read on but be warned: due to the nature of the content there will be some spoilers.
Despite being on the top of a hill, the hospital was remarkably unimposing and unimpressive: just one floor high and composed largely of corrugated iron and brick. It consisted of a handful of wards, an A and E “department” and a few small rooms to see outpatients in. It contained several courtyards. Outdoor corridors connected the different wards. The courtyards and corridors were lined by people, patients, families and extended families. Mothers breastfed, children ran around playing games, other adults dished out food or did their washing in a nearby sink in the grounds, whilst some simply sat. By contrast the hospital wards were quite empty—only a few inpatients in each of the four specialities (pediatrics, general medicine, general surgery, and obstetrics and gynaecology). Many of the rooms in the wards were empty. Faded, once-colourful, patterned curtains hang limply. Paint flaked, and biblical quotes peeled off the dirt-washed walls. In the stifling heat even the ceiling fans seemed to be taking a siesta. The hospital was basic to say the least: there were no computers, no observation machines and I had little confidence in when the bed sheets were last changed. Instead a manual blood pressure cuff lay dusty in the corner of the cupboard, adult oxygen saturation probes were clamped onto children’s feet and thermometers were used from patient to patient without cleaning. Inhaler spacers were replaced by plastic bottles with a hole cut in the bottom. Ventilators were replaced by a dedicated doctor bagging the patient throughout the whole operation. Intensive care simply did not exist.
Republished with permission from here. Although there is really never a right time to die … Read more