Sometimes Medicine Isn’t Fair … and It Hurts

𝗛𝗶𝗺: "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳?"

𝗠𝗲: (𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 ... 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦)

𝙋𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩-𝙤𝙛-𝙑𝙞𝙚𝙬:
↳Be me.  2014. Chief Resident. Monday morning.

It’s been a decade since I met that patient.
↳Nice guy.  Late 30’s.  Same age as me.

• Nausea
• Vomiting
• Belly pain
• Weight loss
• Extensive workup

𝙋𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧

I was a young anesthesia resident.
↳We met in pre-operative holding.

I met his wife and 2-year-old daughter.  𝗦𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆.

We bring him to the operating room.  He goes under.

I place a bazillion lines.  I'm ready for a blood-bath.

Surgeon opens him xiphoid to pubis.  𝟱 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀.
↳Surgeon looks me in the eye.  "𝘞𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘶𝘱.”

I’m confused.  He hasn’t started resecting.

“𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦, 𝘩𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.”
↳Metastasis everywhere.  Inoperable.

I wake the patient and take him to recovery.
↳He keeps asking how it went.

I am barely holding back my tears.
↳“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵?” he finally asks.

I tell him.  𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝟵𝟬 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱.

Suddenly, he understands.  He starts to cry.
↳I try to remain strong, but inside, I am dying.

It’s been 10 years since I met that nice man.
↳He’s been dead for 10 years.
↳His daughter is 12 years old.

I sometimes think of her and wonder what middle school she is attending.

I sometimes wish there was more we could’ve done for her father.

But I know we couldn’t, and it saddens me.

Medicine is weird like that.

Often, we get caught up in the work itself.

Every now and then, it’s important to stop and consider the human element.

... Sorry for the feels

𝗣.𝗦. - 𝗗𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂?