A novel that might inspire you to be a GREAT doctor

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"The key to your happiness is to own your slippers, own who you are, own how you look, own your family, own the talents you have, and own the ones you don't. If you keep saying your slippers aren't yours, then you'll die searching, you'll die bitter, always feeling you were promised more. Not only our actions, but also our omissions, become our destiny." 

~ Cutting for Stone, Abraham Verghese

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Like many others, I wanted to be a doctor from the first time I watched Doogie Howser, M.D. on TV years ago. I think almost all of us went into the medical field with romantic dreams of saving lives and changing the world one surgery at a time.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the line medical school hit and all of the glamour and romanticism of our profession was thrown aside with thoughts of passing board exams, malpractice, and the myriad of other horrors that we are slapped in the face with in our quest to be the greatest doctor in the world. We are passed through the fraternal hazings of residency which essentially include being treated like crap for 3-5 years by the very people we fantasized about being one day.

What we are and what we wanted to be when we were little is so drastically different, despite the fact that we became doctors or nurses or whatever, just as we planned. Sure, some of us love our jobs and put our passion into what we do, but I'm convinced that most of us have completely forgotten to be the doctors we dreamt about.

 A few months ago I picked up the novel 'Cutting for Stone' by Abraham Verghese looking for a simple reading break. What I found was something I needed much more - a reminder of who I want to be as a doctor.

Although Cutting for Stone was a work of fiction, Verghese described the human body and the practice of medicine so beautifully that I could feel myself participating in every surgery and could see myself as covered in the same blood that flooded the floors of the operating stage while Thomas Stones or Marion worked.

 I won't attempt to summarize the book because my words won't do it justice but it reminded me of why I want to be a doctor and put the dreams back in my mind of changing the world with the life-saving service I provide whether I'm on the floor of a busy operating room or the quiet office of a private practice.

 I highly recommend Cutting for Stone to anyone who needs a quiet reminder of why we do what we do.

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"Don't leave the instrument sitting in its case, my son. Play! Leave no part of your instrument unexplored. Why settle for 'Three Blind Mice' when you can play the 'Gloria'?" 

~ Cutting for Stone, Abraham Verghese

Medical Illustrations by Marcin Oleksak

Pin It It's unfortunate to me that more medical school textbooks and training tools don't utilize newer medical illustration such as these brilliant images by Marcin Oleksak. Check out his portfolio here.

 

Medical diagnosis

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The amazing human brain

Pin It It's not too often that those of us who study the human body get to see it's magic happen from the inside out - in our own body.

 Jill Bolte Taylor is one of those lucky (or perhaps unlucky, depending on your perspective) people who experienced the very thing she was studying. She is a neuroanatomist affiliated with the Indiana University School of Medicine and the author of the book My Stroke of Insight. During her study of the way the brain processes information she experienced a stroke in the left hemisphere of her brain. This is a mind-blowing talk she gave at TED which is inspirational to me no matter how many times I watch it:

The human body is a work of art

Pin It Medical artists produce some of the most amazing, under-appreciated art I have ever seen. Those of us in the medical profession have seen thousands of images penciled by Frank Netter or Henry Vandyke Carter (the illustrator of Gray's) but rarely do we see good modern examples of illustration or fine art in the name of medical science.

For those of us who think that the human body is a work of art, this is a huge disservice. Juan Gatti is an artist from Buenos Aires who has reignited the tradition of fine medical art. While not everyone would jump at the opportunity to hang one of his paintings on their family room wall next to the picture of their family, I personally think his work is genius. If you want to see more of his stuff, check him out.

a man I barely knew

Pin It There are rare moments when I take the time to seriously reflect on the things that are important to me. Often important questions and deep thoughts cross my mind but I rarely allow myself the opportunity to be vulnerable and put them in words. I recall my younger years when I wrote in a journal with such fervent dedication that all of my most personal thoughts were recorded on paper. I have 5 years of densely written journals and then... nothing. It has been ages since I've allowed that to happen.

Tonight, however, I felt the need to reflect. The question that is floating around in my mind is "who do I want to be?" You see, tonight my wife's grandfather died. I hardly knew the man but something about him and his life captivates me.

The time I spent with Chera's grandpa Hannah was limited. I think the fact that I didn't know him well allows me to look at him objectively and make some observations that his family might have overlooked. Until tonight I knew very little about him other than what I had gathered in the short time I had the chance to talk to him. Tonight, after she found out about his passing, my wife shared with me many things I didn't know about him. Things which he should be proud to take to the next life. But those are her personal stories and I won't tell them here.

Here's what I knew on my own:

Over 30 years ago, Chera's grandpa Hannah was diagnosed with a severe form of Lupus, an autoimmune disorder. His doctors informed him that it was unlikely he would live more than 6 months. As the story goes, he told his doctor that it was God who would decide when he'd die and that he planned to live to see great-grandchildren.

Many years after being diagnosed with Lupus, he was there to meet his first grandchild - my wife Chera, who he helped raise for the first year of her life. She talks about him with such love and longing that I can only pray my own grandchildren will have for me.

Chera's grandpa Hannah has had an extremely difficult life. Because of his Lupus, much of the last 30 years he has suffered excruciating pain and undergone brutal treatments related to his condition. Since I've known him, he has been very frail and weak but that was never the impression I got of him. He reminded me a lot of Clint Eastwood - a rough-around-the-edges cowboy who was full of piss and vinegar. He is the type of man you'd imagine in one of those western paintings - maybe a sun-kissed cowboy sitting on his porch after a day of herding cattle. Despite everything his condition threw at him, he was strong. Maybe not in the way we define strength by today's standard, but the way it was drawn years ago when goodness was considered strength. In my opinion, strength is the ultimate form of beauty.

Like I said earlier, I didn't really know him well so I can't judge him by the life he led or the actions he took. What I do know is that sometimes you can just feel the goodness in people. I understand that it is easy to overlook someone's faults after they have passed on and only see them as the highlights of their life. But I didn't know his highlights or his low-lights.

All I know is that he was kind to me.

So, my thoughts have turned back to the question "who do I want to be?" I suppose the answer to that is that I want to be kind. And I want to be strong. I may never have rippling biceps or washboard abs but I can posess a strength beyond that. I want to be the the type of man that will be seen this way not only after I die, but also while I am alive. I guess that in many ways I want to be a man like Chera's grandpa Hannah... as I know him.

A man I hardly know has taught me what it is to have strength and kindness. I know that my wife and her family will sincerely miss their grandpa and I'm glad that my children were able to meet their great grandpa Hannah.

I am glad you are finally at peace. You deserve rest.