October 20, 2009
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Rough Run
Dale Carnegie taught a course on “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.” Must of this information is contained in his very small Golden Book. I currently own the golden book which has many uplifting insights on how to live your life in a positive and optimistic way.
I do consider myself an optimist, despite many other peoples recommendations.
One of the nuggets of wisdom on how to reduce worrying is to try to keep everything in perspective. Try to back up and take in the big picture and overcome worry. He states: “What’s the worst that can happen.” Out of all of the very excellent advice in this book, I think this one small part was not meant for ER doctors.
In the last 3 days, I have had to pronounce 5 people dead. Nothing was done wrong. People die. It is still sad.
5 dead in 3 days… That sucks. Worse then that. That crazy-kung-fu-mega blows!
Nothing makes that easier. It is always hard. Talking with the families and breaking terrible news always crushes me. Doing it several times over and over just absolutely drains me. In the ER I have to function extremely fast and react instantly to changing dynamics. Emotions must be put on the back burner since I am caring for many patients at the same time; that being said, after everything is done for the day, sometimes it all catches up with me. I feel terrible, even though I know I did everything I could and no one could have saved these patients.
So, I sit and contemplate and hope the next day is better. It is also tough to bounce back after that and be happy and energetic to see the cute 4 year old with the sniffles.
Sometimes it feels like I’m just putting a band-aid on everything and just trying to buy time.
OK, enough whining, time to go back to work.
Comments (6)
There is nothing worse, I feel. It is a sucker punch to the gut, hard, every time. No matter how you suck it up and go on with your job, the grief will be waiting. I tried to eat it away, shop it away, numb it away, but it always came, like a burglar determined to get into your house. Then, I would cry. Cry for the family, cry because there was no family. After, I would feel lucky, an uneasy lucky, but still. It makes you appreciate your family’s health and well being. ‘Course I am weird, and would think dramatically some times, like if I were driving home and the sun was coming up, I would think of how that person never got to see it, but I did.
that’s terrible. i can’t imagine a worse job than being the bearer of bad news. thank you for the golden book. it may be just what i need.
I have clients, not patients. No one lives or dies on my watch. I’m sure seeing patients die can get the most optimistic down at times.
I couldn’t do what you do. I don’t envy you.
But I am thankful for men like you who can do it.
@storyslut - It does keep ones mortality in perspective
@royal_diadem - I really like the golden book. It is gold.
@Bricker59 - Thx. Someone has got to do it. Its a very satisfying job much of the time, but the pressure/stress can be daunting.
Well, whiny-poo … at least you don’t have to convince patients and their relatives as often as I do to let go and allow them to die … especially those with multiple metastases who are in the hospital 10x in two weeks or those with endstage liver disease who continue drinking when they’re out of hepatic coma.