I am a Doctor, I am a Zombie

Among the thousands of patients I have cared for, a few stand out and for different reasons. All of the reasons have one thing in common, however: emotion. I usually separate my emotion from my work, and rightfully so. It is how doctors are trained. Show empathy, provide the best care to the limits of your abilities.
Sometimes, I want to jump and scream with a patient. Like I did when I saw Kyrie's championship winning shot at a bar in O'hare. Sometimes I want to hold a patient's hand and cry with her. One day, I will be in the hospital, not as a doctor, but as a patient or a patient's relative. I do relate to that.
But today, I will stay even keel. Smile and hug, and show concern. And weep only in my heart.
I will not show anger or fear, or judgement. Even if my experience is unsavory.

I have been tested by some experiences, which I have learned from.
I mean, what do you do when a patient detests you. Twice in my few years of practice, I've had patients that told me they don't like me. One was a middle aged lady who came in with an acute heart attack. She looked me in the face and said she did not like me. Err.. Ma'am you're having a heart attack and I am here to help you. No, I'll get help from any other person, she said. Her brother later told me she had borderline personality disorder, and she decides who she likes on first contact.
The second time it happened to me, I didn't think it was a personality disorder problem. I was asked to see Broderick, a middle aged gentleman with a heart condition. I don't know what ticked Broderick off, but he just plainly told me he didn't think I was competent. I wanted to talk about why he thought so but he just wanted me out of his room. I felt sad for him.
An even more interesting interaction was one I had with an elderly Caucasian gentleman. He had acute heart failure and I had been consulted by his doctors. I walked into his room, along with a resident I was mentoring.
 "Good evening Mr. James. I am Dr. Ayinde and this is Dr xx, and we are here from cardiology to assist your doctors in taking care of you".
"Where are you from, You'r not American", He said. I told him I was Nigerian.
"Well, I'm not sure you can take care of me" was his response.
I explained to him that I could leave, but he would benefit from my expertise if I stayed, so it was his choice. Eventually, we ended up chatting for about 45 minutes, and he told me nobody had ever explained how fluid got in his lungs before. He apologized for being rude and arrogant.

Of course, these are only rare experiences in my daily practice. Far more often, I have beautiful experiences that I have held dear to my heart. Sometimes they may be trivial but they create a special bond. I remember when I shared a hug with Herbert's wife and son after I told them he needed a heart pump because his heart was failing. Actually, I did not remember the hug. His wife reminded me almost a year later, after he got a heart transplant. She said she felt strengthened by the hug and knew things were going to be fine.
I remember Casey giving me a pen after my pen ran out of ink.
Alan who wanted to be discharged early, despite his heart condition not fully improving because he had to go home and care for his disabled wife.
I think about my dear friend, John, who despite suffering from heart failure and awaiting heart surgery, still manages to make me laugh with his crazy jokes.
I remember my conversation with Dwayne about death and dying. And the secrets we shared.

The beauty of medicine is not the diseases, but the people that manifest these diseases. The jovial 80 year old man with severe heart failure. The anxious 20 year old. The sad 46 year old. The woman whose 26 great grandchildren came by her bedside to wish her well. I truly enjoy interacting with all of my patients and their families. And I want to celebrate their victories with them.
I want to go jogging with Tom since he stopped having chest pains after he got a stent in his heart arteries. I want to tell Casey that I still have the pen she gave me 4 months ago. I want to feed the wild cats with Alan. I want to have John teach me scuba diving once he improves after his heart surgery.
But I cannot. I am the Doctor in the pristine white coat. Very knowledgeable, confident, calm, stoic and empathetic. I should not be sullied by emotions. Even if, deep inside, I weep..


Hakeem Ayinde

Disclaimer: All patient names used in this article are fictitious.