Training

I suppose it's appropriate to say a bit about my background. I was a "non-traditional" med student, having worked as a professional drummer and then a medical technologist in previous careers. I did med school at the University of Kentucky, and my residency in Appalachia. By this point I already recognized that dealing with the public tends to temper one's respect for most of humanity. Even this didn't prepare me for Appalachia.

I recall three specific cases. The first was my very first patient I saw in clinic. I was taking a thorough history and asked him his occupation. He says, "I draw". I say, "Oh, yeah"? He replies, "Yes -- my wife draws too". Then I go, "Wow, that's cool. You guys are artists"! He says, "No, no! We draw disability"! This was my introduction to a popular occupation in Appalachia, closely followed by dealing prescription drugs.

My next memory involves a fellow resident who was working ER. A family brought in Bubba, who had severe skull fractures & a broken leg. It seems he'd been helping the family move a piano and he dropped his end, fracturing his thigh bone. Writhing on the ground, the pain was so intense he cried, "Knock me out! Knock me out! I can't take the pain"! Whereupon his obliging relatives grabbed some convenient two-by-fours and cudgeled Bubba into nitey-nite land, and also a helicopter ride to University Hospital for a trip to the neurosurgeons, to fix his broken crown. One can't make this sort of stuff up.

Finally, the first time I moonlighted as a resident, a 19 year-old couple came in with their week-old baby. "Our baby's constipated", they said. So I say, "Well, when was his last BM"? "This morning", they said. I go, "OK. Was the BM soft, or hard"? "Soft", they reply. I ask, "So why do you think he's constipated?", and Mom says, "We think his butt looks swollen!"

More later. Maybe.


-- Post From My iPhone