I’ve had a great start at my new clinic. The preceptors and staff are all super-friendly, forgiving me my constant foibles. I e-mail my main preceptor trying to figure out the nuances of my schedule. I whine to the MOA whenever the computer crashes, because she has to report errors to the company that makes our Electronic Health Record (EHR) software. Okay, well I only tell her about 1/4 of the time, since I wasn’t sure if it was the program crashing or just the angry laptop. Also I learned that logging in under certain domains will boot others off; I definitely (accidentally) did this to my preceptor. Twice. In a row. Oops!
Technical issues aside, the patients are great. Those I’ve met in the clinic have welcomed me with big smiles and many ask if I’m settling in to the city and if I’ll be staying for long. There must be an incredible demand for doctors in this world; while walking back from rounds at the nursing home, some people on the patio of a pub stopped me to say hello. That’s right, directly beside our clinic there is a pub. Oh yes, it’s our next-door neighbour in the mini-mall, and there’s a pharmacy and then a big liquour store on the other side of us! But I digress. I chatted for a bit with these nice people and explained my nametag. One older fellow said he saw a doctor at my clinic, hadn’t been for a year or so, but would come back just to see me (insert a wink here). The old-man pretending to charm me is nothing new. I’m used to being called ‘dear’ or ‘hun’ and was once hit on by a paramedic while I was doing CPR [honestly!], so I just had a good laugh and skittered away to the clinic. Moments later, I hear “Dr. Otte, are you accepting patients?” One of the other gents sitting at the table had followed me to make an appointment. Well, technically I’m not even a GP yet, but it is a testament to the need of the community that they are asking the young, naive, doesn’t-know-much-about-anything woman to care for them. [N.B. that is what I will continue to beleive so don’t try to convince me otherwise!!*lalalala I’m not listening*]
On rounds at the nursing homes, it has become clear what a cult-of-the-personality surrounds physicians. Maybe that’s the wrong term for it, but boy, people over 60 sure show a lot of love and respect for the doc. A lot of that probably comes with the years of care that they have experienced, or maybe my preceptor really is as fantastic as he seems, but it is an incredible thing to witness. If I have a handful of patients that have unwavering faith in me one day, I’ll be equally heart-warmed and frightened to let them down.
Family medicine is good. This city is good, and it’s great to be a learner here, and especially to be that in one place for 2 years. I feel a kind of ease that’s new to me, and I really hope all of my classmates from undergrad are feeling it too, wherever they are. [Although a little birdie told me that a classmate (and new resident in Vancouver) ran a code and did 24 CCU consults on his first shift on call]
For a real giggle, here’s a very brief (1.5 minute) funny I’ve come across lately: video of Bill Maher on Healthcare (in view of the US move to revolutionize their public/private system.