Index Title: HCRUZ’s MAR [06-03]

MAR Title: The Art of Being a Doctor

Date of Medical Observation: March to April, 2006 

NARRATION                       

                        For the past months I‘ve been in Ospital ng Maynila I have learned that being a doctor entails more than healing what is broken on the outside. What I have realized could be a pinnacle of why a doctor wants to become who he is. I have always thought that a surgeon’s quest is to operate until no more can be done surgically. But time spent in this institution has proved me misguided. 

                        A patient of mine has a son who has devoted his time wholly to the care of his father. For eight years, since the patient became sick with diabetes, and fainted on the porch of their house, the son has done everything that is within his mere capacity to provide for the care needed by his father. The heart wrenching truth is, like the irony of life, nothing in the story of their existence has been as easy as my narration. You see, the people I have mentioned were estranged from each other. A manly father who has an only son would be expecting a tyro of the same stand. Unfortunately, faith has dealt him a trump; his only son proudly took home awards for miss gay pageants. Then on, the father had forgotten that he even have a son, and never acknowledged him as one. But the day that he crumpled on the front porch of their house marked the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. 

                        The situation would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so wretched. Philip, the son, was in mile-high heels and tight short skirt, all dolled-up for work as an entertainer in a club. However, it did not matter that he looked comical running and carrying his father to the nearest hospital from their house; because that was the day he became a son to his father once again.      

                            The years that follow were arduous for the family. Health and wealth spent in dribs and drabs – until bills can no longer be met, spirit have slowly drifted away. They came to OMMC as a last resort, hopeful of the promises of free medical treatment doled out by politicians – scantily informed of the hospital’s lack of medical supplies and equipments for ancillary modus. Philip did whatever he could, while the patient did everything he could to make their days miserable – because he is miserable.  

                        I found myself not only consoling the patient, but the whole family as well. He has become more than a patient to me. The family has treated me like one of their kin. It started when the patient needed a Doppler scan for both lower extremities; knowing that they could not afford the procedure, I had secretly looked for a benefactor to aid us in making the contemplated procedure possible. He then complained of the stuffy ward and the “poor” services of the hospital personnel. I was not amused of his criticisms for we’ve done almost everything to make him as comfortable as much as we could. But we eventually spoke of his life and how I reminded him of his runaway daughter. The patient had his operation subsequently and has been doing fine. I thought everything was going great, he has recuperated and was going home. The day that they were about to leave the hospital, Philip approached me and earnestly thanked me for what he called my supposed unrelenting goodness and a “grace from God.” Then as if I was not embarrassed enough, he cried and poured out all his pent-up emotions, of how hard-up they are; of the way his father have ill-treated him by all the vocal abuses; of his father’s favorite daughter, his sister, running away from home, which had further agitated the family’s bond. I was dumbfounded, how can one console somebody who is appallingly dejected? I was thinking, man I have no formal training in counseling? What am I to say to you that can make all the pain go away? In that instance I realized that nobody can – because the pain will never go away, it may grow faint but it never abandons. I made myself heard. Philip said I have made him understood and made peace with the adversaries of his life. I’m no narcissist, but I really want to believe I did just that.       

INSIGHT (Physical, Psychosocial, Ethical) (Discovery, Stimulus, Reinforcement ) 

I have always wondered why a doctor wants to become one. Is it because of the glamour? Maybe the supremacy that goes with it? Or being able to help mankind with their knowledge in healing? It will always be an age old question. Me? I never wanted to become a doctor, and never was there in my childhood dreams of ever aspiring for the profession. I have wanted to become a pilot, to feel the thrill, to see the world and to find my greatest adventure – all went up in smokes because being a doctor is what my parents aspire for me to be. I cannot lie, I am not happy with doing what I do, but life has made my being who I am now worth while. Just like Philip and his father, there are others who will need assistance, and destiny has honored me to be the person to help. Being a doctor does not entail just mere physical healing or nursing but to understand human nature and reconcile what has been broken inside. It is an art that no textbook can edify, but the heart knows and follows. That is what being a doctor stands for.