Thursday, September 19, 2013

Same song, different verse


Why do people go to the doctor?  They might be sick . . . they might have something broken that needs to be fixed . . . or . . . they might just want a check up to make sure that everything is okay (the latter, not very common here).  You hope that when you go see a physician for these various reasons, you will be taken care of, and obvious things will not get missed.  In residency, I remember multiple occasions on the oncology service (either a new patient in clinic or in patient consult), where patients who visited their Gynecologist regularly, had a new diagnosis of cervical cancer.   I recall two patients in particular who were diagnosed with more advanced stage cervical cancer, and had just seen their gyn within the past year (and told they were fine).  For those of you who are not familiar with cervical cancer, it is a VERY slow growing disease, taking years to develop.  These women who came with a big bulky tumor on their cervix . . . I assure you was present and ignored at their last gyn exam. 

These types of situations always got to me.  Feelings of frustration that something like this could happen in our country; sympathy for the patient who had been failed by the system; anger at the practitioner who overlooked such a glaring abnormality in the exam.  Somewhat similar feelings (albeit emotions that are focused on different causes) to everything I have been experiencing here.

Yesterday, one of the doctors asked me if I could help him with one of his patients. 
‘I have a 45 year old patient who has been treated for vaginal infection multiple times over the past 6 months.’
I glanced through her chart . . . it seemed that she had been seen by every practitioner in the clinic at least once, and was treated with the same antibiotic cocktail (Metronidazole, doxycycline, cipro) every time. 
            ‘Has anyone examined her prior to treating her?’
            ‘Oh, no.’
‘Well, it sounds like she needs to have a pelvic exam . . . do you want me to do
the exam?’
            ‘Yes, please.’
I looked past his shoulder to see a very frail woman, hunched over in pain, barely able to walk.
‘She looks really sick.  There is something more going on than a vaginal infection.’
‘Yes, she has a lot of pain.’
I invited the woman into the room, as Carine interpreted.  Recent weight loss, awful back pain, leaking of fluid from the vagina.  She took her underwear off, which were obviously soaked in urine.  The whole room smelled like death.  We helped her up on the table, and I started the exam.  Carine asked me if I wanted a mask . , , I declined.  As soon as I inserted the speculum, large amounts of urine mixed with necrotic tissue pooled into the visual field.  I removed the speculum.  My bimanual exam revealed a large fixated mass, filling the entire pelvis, most likely extending into her sacrum, obviously invading her bladder.  Stage IV.  The worst I’ve ever seen.

This poor woman walked 10 hours that morning just to get to the clinic.  She was alone.  She had been seen at 6 different hospitals for this same problem (including a PIH hospital), and I was the first person who performed a f***ing exam.  [I realize that my anger at this example of piss poor patient care isn’t going to make a difference, but you reach a point where you can’t just say . . .  ‘it is what it is.’  No one would treat someone for hypertension without obtaining a blood pressure, why is this any different.  Is it so much to ask for people to do their job . . . EXAMINE THE PATIENT . . . or refer her to someone who will.]

As we do not have any po narcotics here, we made the decision to admit her over night for pain control.  Last night, one of the doctors came to my room to ask me why I had her admitted, and why I wasn’t going to operate on her.  I explained that things were not so simplistic as ‘take out the tumor,’ it was invading too many important structures.  After what felt like a long argument, he finally succumbed to the facts provided by the specialist.  I about lost it when he told me that I needed to put her on antibiotics for the smell.  [I also think the concept of palliation is foreign to some people.  We are still trying to get some type of pain medication for the woman to go home with (while she is here, she is getting morphine), and people have been arguing that we need to send her home.  How would you feel if you had a big tumor invading your bladder, and taking over your pelvis? . . . have some damn compassion!]

Last night, Carine disappeared downstairs for a little bit.  She was bathing the patient, cleaning her clothes, and feeding her.  I almost cried.  In the midst of such a shitty situation, knowing that there are such amazing people, with so much compassion helps you see how much good is capable of existing in humanity.

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