I Don't Want To Be A Hero

Any Johnny Hates Jazz fans out there? :)

I'm going to be frank - there're times when I really, really, REALLY hate practising medicine.

And I wish, to the core of my very being, that I could hurl verbal curve balls at a patient or his/her relative/s without any fear of repercussions.

Like Dr. Gregory House ( right, love the slogan by the way :)).

Although there're no formal statistics available, I sometimes wonder if the "rule of three's" applies to the medical profession - where 1/3 almost invariably love what they do ( don't ever want to retire ), 1/3 tolerate it because they still want to make a difference and there's no viable alternative ( can't wait to retire ), and 1/3 are in it purely for the money ( aim to retire before the age of 40 ).


Me? I used to think I'd never want to retire, but now, I can't wait to do so.


And I'm only in my 30s.



While my parents would have me believe that the decision to join medicine was entirely mine, I do recall a conversation where, if I wasn't accepted at the local university, I expressed my wish to switch to journalism.

Not that they would've let me have my way at any cost. But it does leave me wondering about what could've - or perhaps should've - been.

And I do find it troubling when I live a little too vicariously through Dr. House.

In the not too distant past, a line from the pilot episode of House caught my attention.

Medical resident Dr. Eric Foreman asked, "Isn't treating patients why we became doctors?", to which House retorted, "No, treating illnesses is why we became doctors. Treating patients is what makes most doctors miserable."

People like to wax lyrical about the "art" of medicine and its "holistic" nature, but isn't that sort of missing the point? If you got sick, wouldn't you want a doctor who'd help you get well as quickly as possible with the least amount of fuss?

Or as Dr. House once asked, "What would you prefer - a doctor who holds your hand while you die or one who ignores you while you get better?"

The reality is, people want their hands held. And while I don't fault this intrinsic human need, especially in the setting of an acute or chronic illness, I do find it hard to accept when an incompetent doctor with good bedside manners makes a serious mistake and gets off scot-free, while a careful and accomplished one who doesn't smile or chat much gets slapped with a complaint for being "rude".

To quote the most extreme example I know, the relative of a patient who died at the hands of convicted serial killer Dr. Harold Shipman told a reporter that, despite Shipman's hideous track record, she still considered him a "wonderful doctor".

There are, of course, no easy answers to the predicament I face. Switching careers at this juncture isn't a viable option, and I don't expect workplace conditions to change anytime soon.

I think I share House's behavioural traits to a certain degree, though I keep things toned down to stay off the administration's radar. Doesn't get me any service awards or letters of commendation, but at least I haven't compromised a patient's welfare - or my own code of ethics.

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