How I View the Practice of Medicine

This whole bypass thing has made me look at how I view the practice of medicine. It's about time, isn't it, that I ask, "What do I really feel about medicine?" since it's such a huge component of my life and has been a major player since the age of 13.

My friend Susie, who has listened to my despair regarding my situation and has given me much-needed pep talks, has often shared her views on medicine. She is a big believer. She feels that doctors and the technology that they employ are often miracle workers. Susie gave one of her kidneys to her friend Ron, and she is convinced that I too will receive not only a kidney transplant but a pancreas as well. She is firm believer in the good that medicine does in the world. Though Susie doesn't talk of God per se, perhaps a way of thinking of Susie's view is to see doctors, especially surgeons, as God's servants on earth, bringing God's healing energy to patients.

This is a beautiful image, and one I'm sure a lot of generally healthy people share. I wish I shared it, but I don't. At best I think of medicine as a small business owner no doubt thinks of the government. The government says it's here to help, but in fact any encounter with the government just means more paperwork, more taxes, more time and energy expended on tasks one would rather not do, more of one's life zapped by things one finds distasteful, unpleasant, and inconvenient. On my worst days, I think of medicine as I think of the so-called defense industry--a monster that is zapping resources, destroying lives, and is only interested in profit at all costs.

I primarily look at medicine as the force that has put restrictions on my life, not as a force that has kept me alive.

Needless to say, this is a piss-poor attitude to take. I consider medicine the default position, what I am doing until God answers my prayers. And of course I realize that it's difficult to get the best out of something that I resent and don't trust, sometimes even despise.

Finally Getting the Whole Story

Friday was a difficult day. As is so often the case, I found out that the whole bypass thing is much more than what it was initially billed to be. This happens quite often. I am told a rosier story than is the actual course of events, I buy into the rosier picture, and then I am given the whole story.

One of the components of this pre-op day was a consult with a cardiac surgeon. I must say that he was the best listener I have ever encountered in a doctor. He didn't trivialize my feelings, and he didn't give me "shut up" messages by telling me about how other patients have it much worse or how facing difficult tasks is everyone's lot. He actually listened, with eye contact and with empathy.

I told him that my mid-section was already "mutilated" with the insulin pump and PD tubing and transfer set. I asked him to not only think of me as a patient but as a woman and do his best to keep my chest as attractive as possible. I wondered if he could approach my heart from the side. He said that is sometimes done with single or double bypass but not with triple. He said that he had been a surgeon at Columbia, Emory, and UCLA, and had pioneered non-invasive surgery especially for women, making the cut under the breasts, but that was not an option for me either. (Unfortunately, he will not be doing my bypasses, as the method for operating on me is the run-of-the-mill M.O., he is saved for more challenging, fancier operations.) In short, I'm looking at a gash about eight inches long that will show even with a modest scoop neck. Then he told me about the two cuts below my breasts, the two shunts in my arms, the shunt in my neck, and the two IVs in my wrists.

Add to this the cuts in my legs. When I asked the young physician's assistant if it were possible to only take veins above my kneee so that I could wear skirts, she laughed and considered this strange, as if to say, "Why should someone like you be concerned about being attractive?"

So I am not feeling good about any of this. I was feeling fine about it prior to Friday's pre-op appointments, and now I feel as if it's yet another way that the medical profession is restricting, inconveniencing, ostracizing, and isolating me.