My blog represents my personal experiences and perspectives. This includes many anecdotes from my life and from my medical practice. I have been scrupulous to anonymize all medical anecdotes and to avoid ever belittling or making fun of patients. (I often make fun of and criticize myself, my colleagues, and the institutions where I have worked.)
Today on the trip from Auburn (Maine) to Montpelier (Vermont) my wife spotted the Snowy Owl she had heard was hanging out near the Elk Farm just north of Snow Falls.
Ask any primary care clinician for a list of pet peeves and one of the top three will be: “Doing my consultant’s work.”
Just to be clear, the overwhelming majority of specialist consultants DON’T do this. But some do it occasionally and a few do it as a matter of routine. Every time it happens, it rankles.
A few examples:
I met Wes when were both counsellors at the same summer camp in Rhinebeck, NY. I had just graduated from high school and he was a graduate student, a gifted musician, and willing to help me find my way through a troublesome summer.
Obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) is both familiar and common. This week in the office, I came across a manifestation that I think warrants reporting. I call it the Spam Sign.
I am constantly amazed at how many smart people in medicine and in medical leadership or policy positions fail to grasp the difference between association and causation, and end up focused on a surrogate rather than the issue.
"We live in a society absolutely dependent on science and technology and yet have cleverly arranged things so that almost no one understands science and technology. That's a clear prescription for disaster." (Carl Sagan)
I have a message for my colleagues and co-workers: don’t let them Pick(er) on us.
The distinction between marketing and patient education can be very subtle. Or not.
In medical school, I was taught to TAKE a medical history in such as way that I didn’t MAKE a medical history.
At the time this seemed burdensome and inefficient, another of many unmeetable requirements whose justification was either ‘that’s how I was trained’ or ‘you’ll understand when you have more experience in medicine.’ Well, now I understand. And I no longer chafe (much) at the patience and work involved in letting the patient tell their story, in their own words, and largely at their own pace.
It was the summer before my last year of medical school and I was traveling around the US for family practice residency interviews. My wife and I were staying with some of her college friends while I looked at a program in Denver.