Caring For The Patient By Dr. Willie Ong (The Philippine STAR) I met Alma at a charity ward during my cardiology training at the Philippine General Hospital. It’s easy to remember her since she had a heart-rending story to tell. In 1990, bolo-wielding terrorists massacred 23 people in Zamboanga, including Alma’s husband. As if such a tragedy wasn’t enough, she later developed difficulty of breathing and was rushed to a nearby hospital. Her doctors discovered she had a heart problem that needed expensive surgery in Manila. And that is how my life got intertwined with Alma’s. Alma somehow endured her complicated surgery, not complaining a bit even when doctors stuck three thumb-sized tubes into her chest. One day, I got an urgent message to see the patient at Charity Bed 4, Alma’s bed. She had developed a fast heartbeat which almost killed her, but luckily, it was controlled by medicines. I visited her often. And there, in the midst of pain and suffering, she related to me her tragic story. She was all alone in the world. As the days passed, we found ourselves talking less about her illness and more about her pains. Somehow, Alma’s low point was also a struggling time for me. Things were getting too routine and too taxing in that hospital of misery. There were times I would question what I was doing there in the first place. Months later, I had to say goodbye to Alma and do some training abroad. When I broke the news, Alma became quiet. It was just another debacle in her miserable life. Then, with her voice cracking, she uttered the words I can never forget. “Doc, when I get well, please promise me one thing. I want you to be my doctor for life. I don’t care if I have to borrow money to pay you.” I was stunned. I tried to divert the issue, but I couldn’t. So I held her hand, looked at her, and said: “Don’t worry, I promise to take good care of you as long as I live.” She was teary-eyed as I left. I didn’t look back. Suddenly, the sweltering afternoon sun seemed less oppressive. Alma helped me understand what exactly is the so-called “patient-doctor relationship.” It has nothing to do with exchanging fees or counting favors. It’s about imperfect people trying to extend some compassion from one heart to another. For me, it’s about people believing in you when you aren’t even sure of yourself. And whenever I am feeling low, Alma’s face resurfaces to my mind’s eye. I can still hear her say: “I want you to be my doctor for life.” Because of Alma, I have tried to give each patient as much time as I can, listening not only to their complaints but also to their dreams. Unless we doctors learn to put ourselves in our patients’ shoes, we can never become the best doctors we were meant to be. And I have finally understood the words of the great Francis Peabody when he described the sacred patient-doctor relationship: “For the secret of the care of the patient is in caring for the patient.”
Posted on: Wed, 11 Sep 2013 10:09:26 +0000