Me, Myself, and I

It's way too early to be sitting in the Detroit airport, waiting to fly back home. The last week was spent at the 26th Annual Michigan Pediatric Board Review Course, trying to cram everything the ABP thinks I should know into my mostly-already-full brain. It was lovely to see the 19 other Mercy grads that were able to make the trip up; I miss those kids. And yet...

It struck me that although we spent the entire day essentially quiet, face-forward, listening to presentations, the mere fact of being surrounded by so many people exhausted me. You would think by the time they released us, I would be ready to talk, laugh, catch up. But after three days, I was about to explode. All I wanted to do was go to my room, lie on the bed, and just be.

Alone.

I missed my me time. Introvert to the core, I suppose. The more people that are incredulous when I tell them as much, the more I doubt whether I'm truly introverted instead of just shy. But this confirmed it for me. Only an introvert would want to go sit in a hotel room by herself after 10 hours of sitting quietly. And you know what? I'm okay with that. It was reaffirming to recognize what I needed and allow myself to do that without feeling guilty. I was still able to get in plenty of social time without burning myself out.

So now, 53 hours of CME later, I'm ready to get back home, back to my routine, back to sitting and eating breakfast by myself (or with the wombmate, but since we both just read the paper, it doesn't really count). Hooray.

And tomorrow it's back to work

Pretty sure I did nothing today that could be construed in any way as productive. Sleeping in, breakfast and the paper, post-breakfast nap, family time, delicious lunch, celebrating Dad's birthday, and parking on the couch for about four hours watching football. I didn't even shower. (TMI?)

It's hard to do much when I was so tired from all that bike-riding and beer-drinking and spectating yesterday at the Tour de Fat. Coloradans love their outdoors and craft brews and super hero costumes, and of course anything that combines all three. One of Michelle's friends asked "What's the point of all this?" Clearly, not a native.

This is what I've missed the last three years--the elusive weekend. I hope I never lose my appreciation for it.

Psych, MD...not!

So, here's the deal. I went through a LOT of schooling and training to be a doctor. I'm not bragging; I'm stating a fact. I have learned a lot, because, let's face it, there is a lot to learn. And there is plenty more still I haven't learned. One of these things I haven't yet mastered (and I am going out on a limb to say I never will) is how to read minds. I know it may seem like it when I can spot nursemaid's elbow across the room, or guess rashes from the age of the child (a fun game we liked to play in clinic). Some things are just more common than others. But the truth is, if you don't tell me certain things when you bring your kid in to see me, I am not going to be able to provide good care.

The following are true stories (or compilations of multiple similar stories), with very little changed to protect patient privacy.

Me: Any medical problems?
Dad: Nope.
Me: Any medicines she takes on a daily basis?
Dad: Oh, the Synthroid for hypothyroidism.
Me: Any hospitalizations?
Dad: That one time for asthma.

Oh, I guess those don't count.

Me: Does she get headaches?
Mom: No
(An hour and a half later after treating with ibuprofen and fluids)
Mom: What is going on? This is just like what happened before?
Me: Oh, has this happened before?
Mom: Yeah, we went to the doctor. Here's what they said. (Hands me discharge instructions from Neurology Clinic saying the patient has migraines.)
Me: So she has migraines?
Mom: What's that?

Hmmm....

Me: Medical problems that run in the family?
Parent: Nope.
Me: Anybody with asthma?
Parent: Oh yeah, I had that as a kid.
Me: Eczema? Allergies?
Parent: Oh yeah, all the kids have those.
Me: Any of the kids have asthma?
Parent: Her two sisters do.

Maybe I should have just skipped the first question.

Me: Anybody else been sick?
Mom: Nope
(10 minutes later after I finish my exam and diagnose Hand, Foot, and Mouth)
Mom: Oh, about a week ago I had these blisters in my mouth that were awful, and I had these spots on my hands. I thought it was an egg allergy.

I really wish I was making this up.

People get mad when they have to tell the same story over and over again--to the triage nurse, the ED nurse, me, the admitting team, the consultants, etc. But the truth is the story keeps changing. And if someone asks a question in the right way, they get the right answer.

I get it, it's a stressful situation and sometimes people forget. But sometimes people just aren't taking responsibility for their own or their child's health. It's dangerous to assume that we know more than you about you or your child. Knowing the history makes a huge difference and can sometimes be the deciding factor in whether you get an ineffective or even harmful treatment.

So please, know your own medical history, your family's medical history, and especially your children's medical history.

That way I don't have to guess.

Even though I can sometimes be a pretty good guesser.