Rain or shine, we will be there.
A patient is holding her umbrella for my nurse as my nurse puts a swab in her nose. Each serving the other.
There are some things you can’t show on a graph. But they still matter.
I’m a scientist and physician. So I like charts. I’m also a family doctor, which means that a whole lot of what I do is hard to measure.
What is the coefficient of understanding times the threshold of care?
Death rates are in the news. I see nightly counts that are troubling and numbing.
But when a friend is added to that graph, it feels different. Adding that 1 makes the number so much bigger that it hurts.
Another of my patients went into the ICU today. I’ve known him for 25 years. He trusts me. But there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even visit him. Did my graph change? It feels like it.
I don’t know where America’s healthcare ranks. Oh, I know there’s a graph for it, but I don’t care. Because wherever it ranks, this is the only healthcare that I want. I want the healthcare that cares about me. I want to serve the people that I care about.
I want a patient that will hold my umbrella, and a nurse that will stand in the rain.