The American medical establishment has systematically clogged his arteries with paperwork, lined his lungs with rules, and filled his intestines with, that’s right you guessed it, shit. There he lay, in a comatose state, awaiting to be pronounced. Only one thing is sustaining his overworked body.
Idealism.
Four months into my intern year and I’m just realizing how crucial maintaining my idealism — as unrealistic as it may be — is to not only my well-being, but also to medicine. A century-old phenomenon, the disillusionment of the American doctor is a well-known tragedy. In 1927, Francis W. Peabody wrote that “one of the essential qualities of the clinician is interest in humanity, for the secret of the care of the patient is caring for the patient.” What would Dr. Peabody say today regarding me working 12 to 14 hours per day and only spending 1 to 2 of those hours (if lucky) with my patients?
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