Friday, July 07, 2006

tati

as an intern, you are the bottom of the totem pole. you're responsible for writing all the daily patient progress notes, calling all the consultants, writing all the orders, following all the lab results, and being on top of everything in general. this translates into a lot of time spent sitting at a computer, with charts, and on the phone going through a long list of things that need to be accomplished over the course of the day. it also means that if you're not careful, your time with the patients and their families can be compromised.

these last two weeks i've been working hard on the floors of our pediatrics service. i've felt pangs of regret several times over this period of time for not being in the rooms with the patients enough, not having longer interactions and forming better relationships with the kids i'm taking care of. too much of my time is being sucked away by the daily work that i'm relied upon for. i try to spend time each day with all of my patients and go through the plan with their parents, but i'm not sure i always do it as well as i'd like still.

i've been taking care of this little 23 month old girl (tati) whose family brought her from puerto rico to investigate a mysterious collection of fluid in her abdomen. it's called ascites, and there are various reasons one can have it. liver problems, heart problems, infections from parasites -- it's a long list. but no one has been able to figure out why this little girl has it. she underwent an extensive workup in puerto rico and then a pretty exhaustive investigation here. and she's been an absolute angel through it all. she just sits patiently in her mother's lap with a pacifier in her mouth, looking at you curiously as you listen to her heart, push on her belly, and tap across her abdomen. some days, since we consulted a lot of different services (gastroenterology, infectious diseases, transplant, cardiology), 7 or 8 people would come do this to her. still, she just sits or lies there patiently and allows you examine her. and she's the sweetest little girl. the family only speaks spanish, so it was also fun to use my broken spanish to communicate with them, and they genuinely appreciate the (modest) effort to explain things to them in their own language. i would've been much better at this towards the end of january when i came back from peru, but the spanish has come in handy, and i need to stay sharp.

anyway, we never figured out why she had ascites. we put her through a bunch of tests (a battery, you might say) and imaging, but we still couldn't figure out what was going on. and somehow, over the the fourth of july weekend when we sent them home for 2 days (they are staying with an uncle who lives in rochester), she managed to get rid of the fluid on her own. go figure. she comes back and it's gone for the first time since it initially appeared back in october 2005. shows you what we know.

but we did a few final tests today and then sent her and her really wonderful family home. they were all at the hospital -- older brother, older sister, uncle, aunt, granparents, and mom & dad -- almost all the time, supporting each other, taking turns walking around the ward with tati, and remaining all the while in the best of spirits. we talked about world cup soccer, discusssed where i learned my broken, somewhat archaic, spanish from, and ate ice cream. they were terrific, and displayed a remarkable patience through a long, difficult process that was clearly reflected in the precocious stoicism of their little girl.

in any case, at about 6pm today i completed their discharge paperwork and wrote the orders to discontinue the iv and send them home. as i sat in my chair at the desk at the nurses station working, the family, two by two, walked by on the way out. they all stopped and thanked me and said goodbye. i wished them luck. last was tati and her mother. as i'm sitting there, tati waddles up to me with her ever-present pacifier in her mouth, takes it out in her hand, and plants a big old kiss on my cheek. it was the sweetest thing, and i'll never forget it.

earlier in the day (less than hour before) i was performing an unpleasant (but fairly painless) procedure on a 5-year-old girl (also very sweet), who was screaming pure venom at me at the top of her lungs. i was not popular. 45 mins later, tati comes up to me and makes my week on her way out of the hospital after we solved nothing for her. but that's all it took to make all the work over the past 15 days worthwhile. and that's why i love pediatrics.