My First Day Of Internship With The Neurology Department

After observing my mother in at the emergency room where she works, I finally understand the difficulty of being a doctor. Doctors constantly having to take care of anyone who walks through the door on a stretcher. Doctors have to try their best to feel empathetic towards everyone, putting themselves in other people’s shoes and trying to understand their situation. Whether they are good or bad, it doesn’t matter, the main goal is to stabilize the patients and make sure they receive the help they need. For example, last night walked in a psychopath who had killed 3 people, who also stabbed himself in attempt at suicide. By some miraculous move by God he didn’t die, only required immediate medical attention. As I watched my mother operate

He relates this experience to the fact that medicine is “anonymous, thankless, faceless, and uncertain” but also “necessary”. I think it is interesting how he feels that it is “necessary” that most of the practice of medicine is faceless. In my opinion, this may be a result of the field of medicine he is in. For some fields of medicine like emergency medicine, most doctors see the patient at the onset of the emergency and then rarely again. However, other doctors like Pediatricians or Family Medicine Physicians see their patients on a regular basis and in that case their practice of medicine, in my opinion, can’t be faceless or not caring about establishing empathy with

After a week working in the hospital, I went on home visits with nurses, doctors, nutritionists, psychologists and a monk. The first patient lives in a shabby wooden house. A great contrast could be seen between the room that the patient lives in and the rest of the house. “The patient is diagnosed with prostate cancer with bone metastasis. The room is specially built for him by the hospital and his family. He won’t live long.” A nurse told me. On another visit, I met a man with esophagus cancer.

This role does not only allow me to shadow doctors while they engage with patients, providing an opportunity to gain invaluable information and advises. This role requires most of my attention towards patients’ needs, which helps to establish a professional relationship and understand what they expect a doctor to be: caring and sensitive but decisive. As English is not my first language, my bilingual skills give me a chance to help some patients through being a translator. It is not the dream job anyone imagines, hours of sleepless shifts, tremendous responsibility with no room for errors as dealing with fragile lives and not products. This only further strengthens my decision to pursue medicine. What I most admire is how empathetic a doctor can be yet unaffected during a critical situation. It is more than just a skill; it is a talent.

For as long as I could remember, I have seen my father rushing to the hospital in a white coat, answering pagers in the middle of important family conversations and attending night calls even in the most terrible weather. I had always wondered; what could be so important that it belittles every other responsibility in his life. It was only after many years of anguish and protests that it finally made sense to me. This defining moment of realization occurred when I first met a patient in his office. I saw how the gratitude in the patient’s eyes can provide a sense of fulfillment that triumphs all other feelings in the universe. It was human life that was most important. Being a doctor does not make you a mere healer but also gives you the responsibility of a caregiver. I had never felt more proud of my father and that was the day I felt the urge to relive this feeling many times over. It was there in that moment that I decided to pursue a career in medicine.

I stood with a look of wonderment as I watched the beehive of physicians, radiologists, nurses, and paramedics collaboratively save a man’s life. The scene initially appeared chaotic with scrubs flying around and doctors swarming all over, but in actuality the team was extremely single-minded—as if driven by instinct. I was amazed by the speed and conviction with which the attending doctor made his decisions; his training and experience was evident with every move. Seeing the tearful wife thank the doctor highlighted the impact of his work—his actions had saved a husband and a father. I left admiring both the competency of emergency physicians and their ability to touch lives in such a dramatic way. While my enjoyment of high school biology sparked my original inclination towards medicine, my first hand experiences in the hospital deepened my motivation and left me steadfast in my decision to become a doctor.

Mr. Zhao taught about the human body with such zeal and overwhelming passion, it encompassed me from day one. Though I had already planned on a being a pediatrician because I loved to care for kids, Mr. Zhao made actual medicine in relation to the human body another aspect of a health career to explore and love. You’re probably thinking, “Well yeah, you can’t just like people in the healthcare industry”, yet patient care, compassion, and sympathy play a definitive role in such a field. I’ve witnessed these elements of healthcare first-hand volunteering at Texas Children’s Hospital. I volunteered during the summer and do so now during the school year.

A patient is a human being. Illness disturbs biological, social, psychological elements that make the patient human. It is not enough to centre and diagnoses and decisions on scientific data and empirical fact; medicine is about much more. The focus of this paper is to make the argument that the practice of medicine is a discipline that requires human empathy as well as scientific data and empirical fact to establish diagnoses with emphasis on five components of the physician-patient relationship: patient’s experience of illness, physician-patient communication, and proficiency of end of life care, medical ethics and spiritual growth. This position will be supported through the film “Wit (Nichols & Brokaw, 2002)” through the character Vivian Bearing 's revelation that illustrates a patient’s struggle with death and in the process exposes the distinction between medicine and science.

A doctor’s mind and heart are very much involved in the patient’s road to recovery. Evidence in support of this statement is shown in William Carlos William poem “ The Red Wheelbarrow, and his essay “The Practice.” Also, in Jack Coulehan poems “The Man with Stars Inside Him, The Six Hundred Pound Man,” and the article “What’s a good doctor and how do you make one?” Individually, each reading and poem has expressed doctor’s emotions with their patients, and what characteristics have guided them into becoming a good doctor. The readings are a representation of how doctors are in fact remorseful when it comes to their patients. While reading these articles, I realize that doctors have been restricted to how much emotion they are allowed to show. All doctors have their weaknesses and their strengths, and they should be vocal about them especially when it comes to treating their patients.

It was dark and there were so many noises around me as I slowly woke up and recalled I was in a hospital with abdominal pain. I then heard a familiar voice say “Sweetie, wake up! Wake up!” I opened my eyes to a blurry image of my mother. “Shhh… don't make any noises. We're leaving now. Just act like you are fine. We'll try to sneak out before anyone notices”, my mother said. She explained later that she could not afford to pay hospital bills, so we had to leave before any physician checked over. Living in Vietnam, I was filled with resentment towards their healthcare system, as people were rejected treatment and left to perish in the streets. As a child, I therefore never considered medicine as a career. My spark for medicine was unforeseen until I went on a high school field trip at INOVA Fairfax Hospital in Virginia. Hovering over the glass ceiling of the operating theater, I watched doctors performing coronary bypass surgery while witnessing the heart beat stronger and stronger. At this magical moment, I was overwhelmed by the power of medicine to save people’s lives.

It is a warm summer evening at Grady Hospital. It is my first day as an emergency room volunteer. I’m nervous and eager, hoping to see something exciting. However, it is surreally quiet. Suddenly, there is word of an ambulance en route. Minutes later the paramedics burst into the trauma slot pushing a man on a stretcher. His head and face are covered with gauze that is soaked through with dark blood. It is a flurry of well-orchestrated movement as the attendings and residents start to resuscitate him. They pull back the bandages to reveal a deep gash that is bleeding profusely. With much effort his vital signs are stabilized and he begins to regain consciousness. Later, after the excitement had passed, I learned what brought him here. He is diabetic and couldn’t afford to properly manage his condition. He had fainted due to hypoglycemia and hit his head. He had almost lost his life because of the unfortunate financial realities of modern healthcare. In that moment, I came to appreciate the very real cost of disease and the incredible role physicians have in ameliorating it. This formative experience was the beginning of my path to medicine.

After beginning medical school, I quickly realized that for every one question we could answer there were about a dozen that could not be answered. I delved even deeper into my studies, determined to learn all I could to help my patients to the best of my ability. Suddenly, two of my close family members died, and with this my determination to find answers increased again. Something else awoke within me during the morning of these loved ones, as well. I truly understood what families were going through while watching their loved ones suffering, and my empathy, compassion, and bedside manner became even stronger.

My supervisor, one of the head nurses, hurriedly pulled me to the corner of the bleach white hospital room and directed me to put on gloves, an eye mask, and a face mask. I felt as if I was preparing for war as I put on all of the required gear. The sound of expensive shoes click-clacked down the hallway indicating the arrival of two doctors who rushed into the room and shouted out orders to the staff while pulling the doors to the room shut along with the curtains. Two doctors, eight nurses, an intern, and a dying patient squeezed into the already claustrophobic ten by fifteen-foot room. The machine monitoring the patient’s vital signs continued to beep incessantly as my heart rate accelerated. Throughout my internship, I had never seen a patient in critical condition until that moment. I remembered my teacher’s advice if we were ever in a situation such as this: take a few deep breaths and sit down if you feel like you’re going to pass out. In that

A twist on the "patient's perspective" approach is to describe a time when medicine failed to save or heal someone close to you. The purpose of this tactic would not of course be to rail against the medical profession, but rather to show how a disappointing loss inspired you to join the struggle against disease and sickness.

Today was the first day of internship. I attended a new hire training secession about 8 hours and heard about the history of Novogradac & Company LLP, met the partners of the firm, completed all new hire paperwork and turned in to HR. In addition, I learned about ProSystem Engagement which company has been using for audit and tax preparation software. At the end of the day, all intern received a tour of office and met their own team members.