Tag: Medicine

5 Things I Learned in Business School I Wish I’d Learned in Medical School

These days, many people enter medicine as a second career.  I am no different.  I was an undergraduate business major and worked in the corporate world of internet marketing for 6 years prior to medical school.  Perhaps a science major would have been more practical when I was spending 7 hours struggling to understand some fundamentals of molecular biology; however, my business background did occasionally give me a leg up. Going back to school at 30-something, surrounded by recent college grads, I realized a few lessons I picked up along the way weren’t necessarily obvious to others.

1. Everyone has a job, and they all matter

Despite modern movements away from it, medicine is an extremely hierarchical world.  Medical students pine for that long white coat.  Doctors bark orders at nurses without introducing themselves or asking nicely.  Phlebotomists, lab techs, housekeepers and others largely go unnoticed.

medical hierarchy
Copyright: Michelle Au | theunderweardrawer.blogspot.ca

One beautiful reality of capitalism is that jobs don’t exist unless they are vital… IMPORTANT.  In medicine, we need janitors, doctors, accountants, secretaries.  Everyone with a title has responsibilities and is therefore necessary for the organization to function.  Companies with excess overhead from superfluous staff don’t stay in business very long (VA Hospitals aside). So when the surgical consultant steals a computer terminal from the ED Tech so she can finish her note, this disrupts work flow, and sends a message that somehow the doctor’s work is more important than the ED Tech’s.  It’s just not true.  Be mindful that everyone on the team has a job to do and people will want to be on your team.

2. “For-profit = evil” is not always the case

Yes, pharmaceutical companies are responsible for their reputations as greedy, evil, for-profit companies.  Just ask Martin Shkreli.  And while it would be great to provide free medications to any and all who truly have need, research and development (R&D) of new medications is risky and costs money.  A lot of money.

 

On average, a new drug takes anywhere from 11-14 years to make it to market, and that’s IF the drug makes it that far.  Of any new drug developed in a lab, there is an 8% chance that drug will actually make it to market, meaning it’s prescribed by doctors for actual patients.§ The money spent on R&D for 92% of unsuccessful drugs is a true cost, and those bills still need to be paid.  Smart R&D focuses on modular development, so that one lesson learned developing a drug that failed can be applied to new research that will hopefully help a different drug get to market.

Yes there is excess and greed.  Yes Big Pharma develops drugs based on profitability, not strictly based on need.  People with “orphaned diseases” have to create non-profits and raise funds for R&D since the pharmaceutical companies won’t do it.  It’s not ideal.  Attracting the brightest minds to develop major pharmaceutical innovation requires paying people well, and I’ve yet to hear anyone tout how well-paid they are at their non-profit organization.  In the end, it’s not as simple as saying “just lower the prices or make it free.”

3. Product perception is reality

Marketing is everything.  You can have the best product in the world, but if no one knows it exists, or if consumers don’t understand what it can do for them, they won’t buy it.  Similarly, you can get all the science right in medicine, but if results, diagnoses and plans aren’t communicated, getting it right doesn’t matter.

If anything this is even more applicable in medicine than business.  While people have some innate understanding of what makes a good vacuum cleaner, they probably need more help understanding their liver failure and what treatment they need. I never assume patients understand their disease.  Taking 5 minutes to explain the relation between the liver and ascites goes a long, long way.

4. Dress & Look the Part

Being a medical professional requires knowledge, honesty and altruism.  Most people get that part right.  But professionalism in medicine also means being on time, dressing professionally, and remembering that people are always watching.  So for the EMT: put down the cigarette, tuck in your shirt and wear your gloves when needed.  For the medical student: be the first one arriving to rounds, wash your white coat (not just once a semester either), lose the stubble and open toed shoes and ditch the piercings for the day.  Doctors: wash your hands, put down your iPhone and give patients your undivided attention. All the knowledge in the world can be quickly overshadowed by a distracting or detracting exterior.

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“The Doctor” by Luke Fildes

5. Listen to Customer Feedback

This is not “The customer is always right.” Medicine is different.  Just because a patient thinks he needs antibiotics for his cold doesn’t mean he should get them.  But your customers do know their bodies best and how they are feeling at the time.  If you are handing a patient discharge paperwork and they “still don’t feel right,” stop and listen.  In this case, the customer feedback is critical, and the price to pay may be high – both for the patient and for your wallet.  Any seasoned Paramedic will tell you, “When the patient says they are going to die, I believe them.”  We’ve all been there.  And if you haven’t yet, it’s just a matter of time.


So that’s it, 5 small things.  What lessons have you borrowed from an earlier career and applied to medicine?

~Steph

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§ http://www.fdareview.org/03_drug_development.php

If pages came as emojis

Right now there’s a whole new crop of medical school students graduating in a month who will start their careers as doctors on July 1. There are two things every medical student looks forward to receiving as an Intern – a long white coat and a pager. But any Resident will tell you: after your first night on call, you want to throw that pager against the wall and then stomp it into little pieces.

But what if pages, instead of boring B&W text, arrived as an emoji puzzle to decipher? That just might make getting 84 pages in a 12 hour Trauma shift slightly more tolerable.  See if you can figure out these common pages.


The “Frequent Fliers” of Pages

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Answers to “Frequent Fliers” Pages

  1. Mrs. Jones has a headache, please order tylenol
  2. Mr. Smith has post-op pain, please increase his pain meds
  3. Code Blue, Mr. Jones
  4. Please renew Mr. Smith’s order for restraints
  5. Mrs. Jones needs a diet order
  6. Baby Davis is febrile and has no PRNs
  7. Mr. White needs zofran for nausea
  8. Another ED admit
  9. The transfer from the OSH is on the floor
  10. Please call Pharmacy, you messed up your order again
  11. Who is going home today? -Bed Flow
  12. Mr. Smith needs a laxative
  13. Mr. Jones needs CIWA scoring

And, just for fun, some not some common but ridiculous (and true) pages:

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FYI: 3AM page for a “fever” of 99.0F

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Mr. X had a nightmare. He’s awake now.


Add your own favorite pager stories (and emoji puzzles) in the comments!

~Steph

 

Ups and Downs of My Intern Year in Emergency Medicine

Everyone warns you that Intern year is hard. It’s a year of little sleep; a rollercoaster of emotions both good and bad. Frustration and guilt in wanting to know everything NOW, because everything you don’t know might be what matters for this patient, this time. And trememndous successes. Some of the things I did this year, I really can’t believe I was able to do. And survive. Mostly, I’ve learned a lot about myself, and have been reminded yet again, that I work with an amazing group of people.


UP – Running a trauma when I thought I could never do it

I have a distinct memory of standing in the Trauma Bay at Norfolk General Hospital, watching the Trauma Team work its perfectly organized chaotic magic. I paid particular attention to the young female physician leading the whole thing – inserting an airway, calling out physical exam findings, doing an eFAST ultrasound to look for bleeding. I remember hoping, wishing I could ever have her confidence and calm demeanor. That thought was followed quickly by being thankful I wasn’t yet in that spotlight myself. I could never do that, right? In September I ran my first Delta Trauma at a Level I Trauma Center, and I survived to do it again.

VCU Medical Center Resuscitation Bay, Richmond, VA
VCU Medical Center Resuscitation Bay, Richmond, VA

DOWN – Those 2-week stretches not seeing my husband

I had no idea how much I need my husband to help me feel like a normal, healthy, centered human being. Amir and I had about four 2-week stretches this year where he was on nights and I was on days, or vice versa. One day we were so desperate for a date we coordinated a 20 minute coffee meet-up at the au bon pain in the hospital. Let’s not talk about what the house or laundry pile looked like during those stretches.  This is the video we play each other if we ever need a pick-me-up:


UP – Procedures, procedures, procedures

Open Thoracotomy

Paracentesis

Lumbar Puncture

intubations, central lines, suturing, joint reductions, even a c-section… you get the idea. I get to work with my hands a lot.


DOWN – Crying in the ICU

So I’m a crier. Always have been. I have distinct memories of my dad trying to help me with math homework as a kid, me getting frustrated and crying (my stress response), and my dad getting frustrated because I was crying. “What’s crying going to solve?” he used to ask me, which of course, made me cry more.

To be honest, I was expecting to cry multiple times the first few months of residency. tumblr_inline_mhsu6v3NBF1qz4rgpI actually made it to late February before it happened. Combine working 12-14 hours a day, 11 days in a row, with little sleep, food, potty break or non-medical human interaction (one of those 2-week stretches) – and now add to that a dozen of the sickest patients in the hospital. I broke down – red face, tears, snot, the whole nine yards. The nice thing about Intern year though is that everyone around you has been there, so I had about 4 senior residents plus 3 PAs sharing their crying stories right along with me to help pick me up. And that’s what you learn to do – pick yourself up, learn and keep going.


UP – Finally learning my way around the hospital (which is actually 4 hospitals)

Anyone who works in an old hospital knows how the building just gets added onto over the years, creating a behemoth maze of windowless hallways and floors that don’t match up. “Take the elevator to the 5th floor of North Hospital, turn left and you’ll be on the 1st floor of Main Hospital.” As if there weren’t enough to learn as an Intern.


DOWN – Cancer. I diagnose a lot of cancer.

I didn’t go into Oncology for a reason. It takes the smartest, strongest, most energized people to be cancer doctors. As an Emergency Physician, I expected to treat people with cancer, but I hadn’t thought of cancer as something I would diagnose. I guess I assumed that people would present to their PCP with concerning symptoms, get an outpatient workup and diagnosis by a specialist. But people do come to the ED for hematuria (blood in the urine), anorexia (lack of appetitie), back pain and weakness. And sometimes at the end of the workup, it’s cancer.


UP – Baby Mint Mochachino for a dying patient

Baby Mint Mochachino made with honor
Baby Mint Mochachino made with honor

I’ve seen a lot of amazing, caring people do a lot of touching things in the medical setting, but one moment stands out from this year. I had a patient who had chosen to pursue hospice care. He couldn’t stop telling me how beautiful his wife was and how he looked forward to seeing her soon. He had stopped eating and drinking days ago, so when he asked me for a “real coffee,” I was intrigued. He’d requested a cup of coffee from the medical student who poured him a cup of the hospital grade mud available to all employees. His dying wish was to have a real cup of coffee. How reasonable. I went to the ABP counter, told the story to the barista, and she whipped up the only coffee worthy of such a role – a baby mint mochachino, which she made with honor and pride in her work, even adjusting the temperature down to avoid any burned tongues.


So that’s it – Intern year is coming to a close, and July 1 I’ll be a “Senior Resident,” fraught with its own challenges and lessons to be learned.