For humanism also appeals to man as man. It seeks to liberate the universal qualities of human nature from narrow limitations of blood and soil and class and to create a common language and a common culture in which men can realize their common humanity.
“Andrew is vomiting!” yells the mother of one of our SICU patients. Before I ran to get the attention of the senior resident, I paused a millisecond because something was so different with that statement. It wasn’t the voice of Andrew’s mother, as I’ve heard it in daily conversations for the past two months. It wasn’t the fact that was he was vomiting for he’s had fluctuant health. Throughout the day I gave it some thought and finally came to the conclusion that it was the fact she referred to her son by his first name. For 8 weeks, my surgery team has either referred to the patient by his bed number, the procedure that was performed on him or informally by his last name, military style. This small instance of humanism warranted reflection.
Since the beginning of my medical school career, we've been lectured on the principles of humanism in medicine, its importance in the patient's care and just in case we forgot, they gave us a nice pin during our white coat ceremonies that served as friendly reminder. However, something happens in transition in which we lose that touch. I caught myself slipping while I was on surgery. The redundancy of our days in addition to long, dragging hours mixed in with the interesting personalities of the patients, I found myself becoming a grumpy robot. I'm typically a cheerful person but by the end of the rotation I was a cynical, grim, jaded student questioning my career choice. I guess that's the natural process for anyone that pursues something they love, sometimes you just fall out of love until you're reminded why you fell in love in the first place.
There's a blog post circulating on the Facebook walls of medical students and residents that highlights the nonglorious aspects of what it really is to be a physician in the United States, beyond the six figure salary. Oftentimes physicians are scrutinized for their lack of empathy and it's evident to the patients. I don't think it's fair that we blame our long work hours for our missteps. Just like it's not fair to yell at your child if you had a crappy day at work. I think the same applies in medicine. Our patients are more than just a disease, a surgical procedure, a collection of pill bottles. They're humans with feelings and emotions just like the people taking care of them. Before stepping in the door seeking your service, they were mere strangers. In just a matter of minutes, you know their entire personal history. And to think that despite this privilege, medical professionals forget that healing patients is a delicate process.
Andrew's mother reminded me that for us that septic patient is still her son. Her cries of hurt, anxiety, and hope reminded me why I fell in love with medicine.
Lesson Learned: As generic and obvious as it may seem, everyone should be treated with fairness and respect. Whether on the train, your local McDonald's, gasoline station or your doctor's office, be courteous and polite because your simple, kind gestures can go a long way.
