Sunday, November 13, 2011
Waiting for Tonight
Now, my mother would often say, "Those doctors don't know anything. They just want your money and to give you pills." That, of course, was before I went to medical school. Afterward, when she would complain to me about a chronic problem, I would ask her if she had told her doctor about it. Her answer, "Well, that's what I have you now for." And for, I suppose, all the other patients that come into the E.D.
But, seriously, what was it about today... tonight... that suddenly made it worse? Come on... tell me... you know that I am not going to be able to fix you. Because if your primary care doctor who has all the time in the world and a heck of a lot more resources can't figure out what is wrong with you, then how do you expect me, the lowly E.D. doc who has maybe five minutes to spend with you amoungst the maelstorm of humanity, and who doesn't know anything about your background, your meds, your allergies, your homelife, your mother's maiden name or the name of the boy you kissed in the fifth grade to fix you today... tonight...?
Please tell me...