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Why Is My Doctor So Cold and Emotionless? [QuickAndDirtyTips.com]

meandoctor

 

I will never forget a particularly unsettling incident in the operating room while I was a young and impressionable medical student on my first surgery rotation:

Attending Surgeon: "Intern, what’s the story on this patient?”

Resident Intern (replies sheepishly): "This patient is a 51 year old with a left breast lump, and 17 out of 20 lymph nodes positive for cancer, returning to the operating room.”

Attending Surgeon (in a very matter-of-fact tone): “Oh, she’s F_ _ _’d.”

It felt as though the room temperature fell below zero for a moment—not because the OR is preserved like a freezer, but because the surgeon’s response seemed so cold. The intern fought hard not to appear uncomfortable in light of that deadened, crude response. But because medical school and residency have constructed a strict hierarchy, not unlike the military, there was no way that this intern was going to speak up in return—despite having a parent that also suffered from breast cancer.

 

[For more of this story, written by Sanaz Majd, go to http://www.quickanddirtytips.c...sthash.DK3UxL08.dpuf]

 

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Indeed. My sister has been an OR nurse for over a decade and has shared some difficult stories. Running keeps us both sane as we work in two different areas of healthcare (I'm in behavioral health). The expectation to 'care' and to demonstrate that sense of care is an interesting aspect of trauma-informed care, particularly when we consider Hochschild's theory of Emotional Labor. The nurses I've worked with tended to be heavy drinkers, addicted to diet coke, cigarettes and sugar and maybe it's no wonder considering the levels of stress that often accompany their job. One nurse in particular used to say that at the end of each day she needed "something good for me", and by 'good' she meant something to fill the gaping hole left from giving out all day, "give, give, give", she used to say with a laugh and a smile. The level of self-preservation practiced by doctors may not be an accepted practice by other health care professionals, despite the fact that the rest of us are encountering the same levels of impact as a result of daily close encounters with human suffering and illness. I would certainly not blame a doctor who chooses to practice detachment or even sarcasm in order to perform their job, but I might wonder if there are other re-frames available to all of us who work in human service. I would say the same for anyone who works in the service industry. Maybe you are not the one cutting the tumor out of a woman's breast, but we reveal our hurts and needs in much simpler exchanges throughout the day, don't we? Have you ever watched someone simply crossing a busy parking lot? If you pay close attention, a persons needs are written all over their faces and gaits; bumper stickers, handicapped placards, status symbols, tattoos, the name on their purse, the logo on their shirt, the colored ribbon on their child's stroller- everything tells you something about who they are and what they want or need, and if the non-verbals don't capture you, many people will simply offer an unprompted dialogue about their current affairs while the clerk bags their groceries. I'm sure he didn't want to know all that, but his position makes him a captive audience and the expectation on the other end is for 'good customer service.'

We expect others to care, but do we hold a shared definition of what that means and how our caring ought to be expressed?

If nothing else, trauma-informed care teaches us to extend the same levels of compassion to those we treat and those we work with.

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