It occurred to be today, as I surreptitiously took a pill and washed it down with soda from Noon Conference, that I'm actually pretty normal. Yeah, I've had my issues- and I've started the process of telling my story via my blog, but right now, I take medication, I see my doctor every so often, and I'm actually living a relatively normal life.
Of course, I have the aggravation that goes along with having a chronic illness- I have to make sure I've always got health insurance. Sometimes my health insurance doesn't cover the full cost of my medications (as in right now) and I have to beg the drug companies to supply me with free meds. Also, I have to make sure when I travel that I bring my medications with me, enough not only for the duration of my trip, but also a little bit extra should something unexpected occur. I was on vacation earlier this year and had the opportunity to stay longer than initially planned. Sadly, I didn't have enough medication. I could have had my doctor call in a few days of medication, but I would have had to pay out of pocket. So, I went home as initially planned. Had I actually had extra medication, I am sure my sunburn would have been much worse than it was. So maybe I was lucky. But, anyway, it's just one of those issues anyone with a chronic illness can probably relate to.
In a way this helps me with patient care. I'll ask patients if they can afford their meds. When they cannot, I actually can point them in the direction of helpful resources.
Another advantage is that I am very knowledgable abut the meds that I take, and this can sometimes give me the appearance of having read a lot. On rounds, when I pipe up, "Well, perhaps Wellbutrin isn't the best because it lowers the seizure threshold..." it might appear that I spent the previous day poring over UpToDate.
Showing posts with label medication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medication. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The Descent Continues
My medication change, my talk with the Site Director, my realization that if I just kept getting up in the morning, going to the hospital, coming home, taking Ambien, going to sleep, and getting up again, I could go on indefinitely. And that's what I did- I slogged back and forth between the student housing and the hospital. I ate, I slept, I did all the things and ordinary human being is supposed to do during his or her time on earth. And I fell into an equilibrium.
Realizing that things were better, but not great, I again called Dean Stewart to ask about taking time off. “Now that you’re psychiatrically stabilized, I don’t see that there’s any benefit to you taking time off…” I wanted her to understand that while I felt my feet were becoming more firmly planted beneath me, that things weren’t right. I was functioning in the hospital, puttering about, writing notes, presenting on topics; and while I wasn’t excelling, I was now certainly up to standards. She advocated self care, telling me that perhaps I should take a day off on the weekends as opposed to voluntarily going in to the hospital to see my patients.
I eventually finished my 5 weeks of internal medicine at Glendale and returned to my home hospital at [] medical school for the final five weeks of the rotation. When I arrived I’d been branded as a “student in trouble,” a distinction which awarded me “extra help” in the form of constant suggestions during my presentations. Were I not to have been branded, I believe, a lot of those little mistakes would have gone unnoticed, or would have appeared in my evaluation as qualifications to my otherwise stellar performance. But instead, my preceptor, desiring to “help” me decided to do so by bringing our preceptor sessions to a screeching halt when he sensed that I did not understand something. The other 3 people in the sessions politely waited as my presentations were drawn out and picked apart. Did I understand the difference between infection, and vasculitis? Yes, I stammered, turning red; the preceptor was doubtful that my response reflected true understanding and launched into a long explanation.
Realizing that things were better, but not great, I again called Dean Stewart to ask about taking time off. “Now that you’re psychiatrically stabilized, I don’t see that there’s any benefit to you taking time off…” I wanted her to understand that while I felt my feet were becoming more firmly planted beneath me, that things weren’t right. I was functioning in the hospital, puttering about, writing notes, presenting on topics; and while I wasn’t excelling, I was now certainly up to standards. She advocated self care, telling me that perhaps I should take a day off on the weekends as opposed to voluntarily going in to the hospital to see my patients.
I eventually finished my 5 weeks of internal medicine at Glendale and returned to my home hospital at [] medical school for the final five weeks of the rotation. When I arrived I’d been branded as a “student in trouble,” a distinction which awarded me “extra help” in the form of constant suggestions during my presentations. Were I not to have been branded, I believe, a lot of those little mistakes would have gone unnoticed, or would have appeared in my evaluation as qualifications to my otherwise stellar performance. But instead, my preceptor, desiring to “help” me decided to do so by bringing our preceptor sessions to a screeching halt when he sensed that I did not understand something. The other 3 people in the sessions politely waited as my presentations were drawn out and picked apart. Did I understand the difference between infection, and vasculitis? Yes, I stammered, turning red; the preceptor was doubtful that my response reflected true understanding and launched into a long explanation.
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