There's a wonderful book -- The Soul of a Doctor -- which came out last year, edited by Susan Pories et. al. -- You can get it on Amazon for $10.75.
A third year med student from University of Massachusetts sent us an essay today which is as good as any in the book. We chopped it a bit because the C2S Blog needs to be short; but the full piece will appear in the next C2S journal. Stay tuned.
El Vieho in Exam Room Three
by Luis Abrishamian
UMass Medical School Class of 2008
Today, I had one of those moments. I muddled my way through my first two years of medical school, questioning everything except perhaps who I was. Today, I glimpsed who I will be.
While admitting a 98 year old nearly blind, nearly deaf, and very sick Ecuadorian man I was caught up in hearing about his life, and transfixed by his genuine smile. I caught myself laughing inside, thinking about how many young (and older?!) women’s hearts had been broken amidst that very grin, that smile that could do anything but hide a palpable playfulness.
As I listened to El Vieho’s answers to my pseudo-medical interrogation, I felt strangely comfortable being so ‘far’ from the medical model, from my “History and Physical” mandate. It was not so foreign or off-topic to hear about his work in the gold mines or about his sons. I lost track of everything, including myself. The short pauses in conversation felt natural, A mutual heartfelt respect was organically borne from somewhere in Exam Room 3.
I am not sure how much his vision was impaired for he looked in my direction as we spoke and smiled when I acknowledged his stories or joked with him. The point is that he knew I was there. He knew that I cared, and for a moment he had somebody who spoke his language. Perhaps he was lost for a brief moment like I was, losing track of everything. No matter the medical outcome, my 98 year old patient with foggy vision and I saw eye to eye. We shared that fleeting connection between two humans in a magnificent, terrifying, and mysterious existence.
For the first time in my medical career it felt wonderful to share a gentle reminder of why I am. Just, why I am.
[ Editor's Note: The picture of El Vieho in the next posting was taken by Dr. Rob Norman in Guatemala last November. It is of a 102 yo Mayan man and it reminds me of Luis Abrishamian's Vieho.]
