August 8th, 2010 by DrWes in Better Health Network, News, True Stories
No Comments »
This occurred after a liver, heart, lung, and kidney transplant:
Allison John, 32, made medical history in 2006 after she received her fourth organ transplant — a kidney from her father, 61-year-old David John, to add to her previous heart, lung and liver transplants.
A life plagued by illness and frequent hospital visits has not deterred John from her dream of becoming a doctor, however. After 14 years of interrupted study, she finally received her medical degree from Cardiff University last month, according to the U.K. press.
Wow.
-WesMusings of a cardiologist and cardiac electrophysiologist.
*This blog post was originally published at Dr. Wes*
April 21st, 2010 by KevinMD in Better Health Network, Health Policy, Opinion
No Comments »
It’s well documented on this blog that the primary care shortage will only worsen once most of America has access to affordable health insurance.
As I wrote in a recent op-ed, not only will there a shortage of primary care physicians, but nurse practitioners and physician assistants won’t alleviate the problem either, mostly because they are also enticed by the lucrative allure of specialty practice. Enter the three-year primary care physician. Apparently, the fourth year of medical school was deemed expendable. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at KevinMD.com*
October 3rd, 2009 by Bongi in Better Health Network, True Stories
No Comments »
Some things make me feel so powerless (yes, even i can be powerless in the face of incompetence).
I have previously mentioned a thing or two about my opinion of where medical training is going in this country. Basically the powers that be are not-so-gradually degrading the degree. To them somehow it seems like a good idea. Ideas I suppose can easily seem good when you are safely hidden away in your nice air conditioned office far from the reality of the consequences of essentially negligent doctors released into the community. Well I get to see the consequences up close.
He was referred from an outlying hospital on a Friday. The peripheral hospitals so like to empty their wards for the weekend. After all there is some good fishing in these parts. Thank goodness for good fishing. Otherwise many more would die unnecessarily. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at other things amanzi*
September 20th, 2009 by Bongi in Better Health Network, True Stories
No Comments »
Recently a plastic surgeon I know was called out to fix a lacerated ear. It is the domain of plastic surgeons pretty much all over the world. But in my neck of the woods it may be tricky to extricate a plastic surgeon from his warm bed on a cold night. Let me also say that back in those days all registrars of all disciplines earned the same overtime each month. Even opthalmologists and dermatologists and pathologists earned exactly the same overtime as surgeons. They weren’t complaining. We, however, were.
As calls went it was fairly standard for us general surgeons. I had found a moment to empty my bladder which was a nice change, but other than that one reprise there had not been a moment to even realise that I hadn’t eaten all day. At least there hadn’t been any lethal disasters…yet.
Somewhere in the madness the house doctor asked me to evaluate a patient with a lacerated ear. He had had half his ear detached in a bar brawl. It was hanging precariously from what still connected it to the body. Now at this time in that hospital there was a policy that once a patient had been referred by a casualty officer they would not take the patient back. If the referral was erroneous then we would be required to refer further as appropriate. So when I heard my house doctor had accepted the patient I was not impressed.
“You suture his ear.” I told him. Poor guy, he hadn’t studied at our university and therefore wasn’t used to our sink or swim approach to medical training. He freaked. My level of being impressed dropped even more. I’d have to phone the plastic surgeon myself.
The plastic surgeon was not keen. By that I mean he basically said he was not coming out. By the tone of his voice I assumed he was getting a back rub from his significant other under the warm duvet on his bed. Who could blame him. If you’re not in the trenches why would you want to go into them, even for a short while to suture an ear.
“Anyone can suture an ear. you’re there now. I’d have to come in to the hospital. You just do it.” I considered telling him that I’m at the hospital because I have so much bloody work to do and that he is drawing the same overtime that I am and that it is his bloody job and not mine. But I knew that at that stage, even if I walked on water and then turned it into wine he was not going to come out. I hung the phone up. my house doctor looked at me questioningly. He had already told me he couldn’t do it. But he was not from our neck of the woods. I needed a student. One walked past, unsuspectingly.
“You! have you ever sutured an ear back on?”
“No.”
“When I ask this same question tomorrow, you will answer yes. Come with me.”
He did quite well.
*This blog post was originally published at other things amanzi*
