I love medicine

It's 4:26 AM and I've been at the bedside of a criticially ill patient for the past 90 minutes. I spent much of that time speaking with a gentleman and his granddaughter about withdrawing medical care for his wife. 91 minutes ago I didn't know these people from Adam and 45 minutes ago I was doing my best to inform a grief stricken man the best I could the condition of his beloved companion so that he could make an informed decision regarding her care. There were no cardiologists, there were no pulmonologists, there wasn't even a familiar family physician it was just the family, the chaplain, and me. The end of the story is that the family decided to withdraw care and spend the last moments of this woman's life without all the tubes and medicines.

What about that scenario makes me love medicine? That man trusted me to give him the information that he used to make a life and death decision. That family was forced to allow me, a total stranger, into one of the most important moments of their lives and it was natural to do so. With all the responsibility that I have felt thrust on my shoulders over the past month I think I have forgotten, at times, what this whole healthcare system is about. Most of the treatments done each day aren't going to be life and death decisions, but some are and the trust that patients place in their doctors is astounding. I love the feeling of being trusted and though there will certainly come a day when I make a mistake and get down on myself for doing so the trust from my patients will still be there.

It is now 10:47, I was called back to the room shortly before 6 to do a death pronouncement. As always it was a solemn occasion. As I entered the room the husband took my hand and with tears in his eyes he whispered a heartfelt thank you to me. I am humbled to be in a profession that places me in such an important (though oftentimes very brief) portion of other people's lives.