What It's All About

Last week's frustration was mollified by the high emotions of the past few days. This picture of Pops and me outside the Old Well was taken immediately following our White Coat Ceremony. In the early 90s, medical schools started conducting these events to give the students a "modified" version of the white coat (not a "long coat" so we can be designated as the scrubs, lowest on the totem pole), to be worn during any clinical experience. For us, this comes just before our first "Community Week," where we spend 5 days shadowing a physician in some other part of North Carolina. On October 12th, I will be heading to Boone to shadow a pediatrician at his practice. Throughout our first two years, I will go back to Boone 4 more times, building on each with the clinical skills I learn in Introduction to Clinical Medicine (ICM). In this first week, I will mainly be a shadow, but will be able to conduct some patient interviews. By the second week I will be performing full physical exams.

The actual ceremony took place on a rainy Saturday morning. We all dressed up in our Sunday best and processed into the great Memorial Hall into the beaming smiles and gleaming (though sometimes watery) eyes of parents, loved ones, and faculty. They gave us a speech about giving money to the school (typical), not cheating (just plain odd), and about being caring doctors (trite), but it all seemed to mesh into nervous enthusiasm from the 160 of us. We were "coated," recited a modified version of the Hippocratic Oath, and processed out to the Tar Heel Fight Song for pictures. The Carolina grads walked briskly over the Old Well to get in line for some classic shots. Lauriane (Mercer '06) had to ask why we were going to take pictures next to "that column thing." They'll learn soon enough, but it gave Pops and me a laugh, taking us back to Searching for Bobby Fischer. Old school.

On Wednesday I went to see my first patient. In our Medicine and Society class, we have to meet with a pre-selected patient from UNC-Hospitals twice to learn first-hand about disease; it also gives them a chance to tell us how we should be good doctors, from the point of view of the person who is actually getting the treatment. Most medical students have never been ill (a point I argued two blogs ago), and this experience allows us to "get real" about disease. I can already tell you that I will not be seeing Mrs. Jones (a pseudonym) just one more time. I intend to be involved in her care, hopefully for years to come. She is an inspiration to anyone and everyone; and her outlook on life, disease, and death is unparalleled. Although I will tell you a little bit about her, for patient confidentiality I will have to change names and a few of the closer details.

Mrs. Jones and her husband are in their 80s. She's had a number of cancers, been through a dozen chemotherapy treatments, been poked and prodded by too many doctors here at UNC and Duke... but you could never tell. She is joyful, thankful, and bubbly. She is a full time volunteer, wife, great-grandmother, and child of Christ. She has lost her hair a number of times, but never her dignity. She is real about death and disease; she knows her time will come soon. She even joked that whoever "goes first" (her or her husband), the spouse will buy two dogs to keep them rolling. Doctors have made mistakes in her care, but she has never been angry. "Everyone is human; everyone makes mistakes." Her best advice was to listen, really listen to patients, because they know their bodies better than you do. We talked for over three hours, and I can't wait to go back. Being with her and her husband reminded me of Grammy, and how much I miss her perspective, wisdom, and guidance. It also was a serious reminder of why I want to be a doctor, and how I should go about it.

Many emotions and ideals this week: pride, joy, love, realism, sadness, inspiration. All good reminders about what it's all about.