Physician burnout -- and burnout in general -- is at an all-time high. From this Wall Street Journal article by Dr. Sandeep Jauher to a recent TEDx talk by Dr. Romila Mushtaq, the angst is palpable. Sadly, as noted in this piece in the New York Times by Pranay Sinha, the suicide rates of physicians and doctors-in-training increase every year. The insurance companies' complications, government involvement, and economic downturn have all added fuel to this fire of discontent. But I think the problem is even more pervasive than that. It stems from our interactions. With each other and with our patients. In the northern Natal tribes of South Africa, members greet one another with "Sawa bona," which means "I see you." The response is "Sikhona," which means "I am here." How is that different from our usual "How are you?" followed by "I'm fine"? The difference is in the validation, the acknowledgment of each individual as truly having meaning and importance. When we walk into an exam room, we may actually ask a patient how they're doing. But more likely, we'll ask about the specific problem they're having: "How's your back pain?" or "Did the medicine make your itchy rash better?" The leap from "I see you" to "How's your back pain?" is huge. It implies that the patient -- just like those in the memorable book we all read in training, The House of God -- is indeed nothing more than his or her symptoms: the "inflamed gall bladder" in Room 3 or the "chest pain" in Room 5, not Mrs. Smythe, the grandmother of four whose husband died last May. It's not surprising that it's come to this. We witness families at restaurants interacting more with their smartphones than with each other. We interrupt conversations, mealtimes, and playtimes to check our inboxes for more data to fill our days. What's the solution? Should we all start talking in the language of Natal? No. Well, not necessarily. I do, however, believe that we need to take stock of ourselves and that on which we choose to focus. We need to be more present every day for each other, for our colleagues, and for our patients. We need to come together as healers and maintain the humanity in medicine. Let's focus on, as Jill Bolte Taylor suggests, "the energy we bring into the room" every day. It's not a quick fix. But it's a start. I see you. Starla Fitch, M.D., is an oculoplastic surgeon and senior partner in practice in Atlanta. She is also the creator of lovemedicineagain.com, an online community for doctors, other health professionals, and patients who want to restore humanity to health care. Source
Am sure that it would take time for patients to get used to the greeting. Imagine greeting a patient in that way for the first time; obviously, the patient would look at you awkwardly but in the end that patient might understand you since doctors are famous for their hilorious talks..........
2....so...my forth year I started in the ICU...as a patient....from an illness i probably picked up from a patient....latter that same year...my mama died in my arms...lung ca...i diagnosed...not her pcp or radiologist...hell of a year to say the least....passed all my boards except..'humanistic domain' . I was dismissed from school...ie...my elgibilty was revoked after failing Humanistic...empathy, compassion...four times...right...no way was I going to be passed ...my school probably needed the #failed, didn't graduate statistic....wished me luck in my future endeavors...I had taken great pains to make sure I was more than ready for med school...degrees in biomed and biochem...over came huge obstacles....ripped off it the end....owe>300K....is anybody going to object on my behalf...hell no....so don't give me that we care crap....but ignore me to death....which won't likely be that long...lucky you...228-238-4830......doug.morrison4@gmail....
