My pager buzzed franticly on my right hip, notifying me that one of my residents needed me. I rushed to third floor and loudly knocked on Frank's door. As I opened it, I saw a bony, 86-year-old man leaning over a pile of clothes with tight pursed lips.
"How may I help you, Frank?"
“Where is that darn little thing...Oh yes, may I have my pills now, my hands are starting to shake again,”
“Of course." I moved closer to him and then asked, “What are you looking for, Frank?”
"My cap for my catheter bag fell off, and I cannot find it...Stop, no, you do not need to look for it."
“Why not? If we don't get that cap back on, then bacteria could get into your bladder, which could give you a nasty infection.”
“No, that doesn't matter to people like you. All you people care about is doing the bare minimum, and some of you can barely do that.”
Frank's words challenged me and opened my eyes to the disconnect between caregivers and their patients. Sometimes caregivers get so caught up in completing their required tasks, that they forget they are working with people. Consequently, their patients feel that their providers do not actually care about them and their well being. However, when health care providers work to form relationships with their patients, the result is better health and overall quality of life.
This situation with Frank propelled my research into elderly care and encouraged me to try to alter the patient care culture at one of my assisted living facilities. Through my leadership class and independent research study, I found that one of the greatest challenges to elderly care was that caregivers loose their purpose and humanity in their work. Following, I developed a program where both elderly residents and staff members could get to know each other as individuals. Even though, it did not directly reshape the culture, it did set a change in motion and a precedent that a remodeling was necessary to have quality care in our facility. As a physician I hope to also be a leader who sets the tone of patient-centered care with my team and medical community.
Physicians are the ultimate form of caregivers. When physicians humanize their patients they are successfully able to address both their physical and psychological health. I saw this first hand when I shadowed Dr. C, a doctor of family medicine. Dr. C consistently took the extra time to explain to his patients the science behind their illnesses and the various options available. He then gave the patients autonomy to choose which path they felt most comfortable pursuing. Together, the patient and doctor worked as a team to determine the best course of treatment.
Each part of the healthcare team is important. However, doctors have an over abundant amount of skills and knowledge which allows them to use critical thinking while addressing their patient's underlying health issues. Observing Dr. C critically analyze his patient while also humanizing them affirmed my passions for wanting to be a physician.
My passion for learning has lead me to always seek out opportunities to develop myself both academically and as a medical advocate. As a physician, I look forward to the opportunity to continuously expand upon my knowledge, and how to provide the best medical attention that my patients deserve.
The situation with Frank has stuck with me because it has challenged my perspective on vulnerability and my overall purpose as a health care provider. Both as a caregiver and a doctor I will work with people who are in their most vulnerable state. Therefore, it is important for me to be very attuned to how I treat and interact with other people. Through my development and the combination of multiple life experiences, I have come to conclude that being a doctor is the ultimate path for me because it is a where I can make the greatest impact on my patients and as a leader in the healthcare community.
Frank sighed and stiffly knelt down on his bed, before continuing to search for his catheter cap. I took a seat next to Frank and asked him what was really going on. It only took an extra couple minutes of talking to him to find out that he used to be a professor and a father of two children, who had placed him in this facility. After his wife died, he noticed his memory beginning to fade, and he felt he had lost control over his life. I then, asked him how he met his wife. With a twinkle in his eye, he proceeded to tell me about Susan, and how he used to love to take her out swing dancing. Following, I stood up to turn on music from his radio, and offered my hands to him. As we gently swung our hands side to side, I noticed Frank's eyes and face slowly began to glow, and I saw a small glimpse of the joyful man he once was.
*** To comply with HIPPA, resident's names have been changed to protect their privacy.