Since the pathology on my husband’s tumor was benign (hooray!), I feel okay writing a bit about the experience at the hospital. Specifically, your spouse having a surgery done at the same hospital where you work as a physician.
People can have some odd ideas about doctors. Like, that we don’t get sick, or never have to deal with the same run-around they do when they try to call an office.
I had one patient tell me “well, since you’re a doctor, you don’t have to worry about high blood pressure.” Which, since he didn’t know anything about my family history, salt intake, or blood pressure readings, was clearly not a particularly informed statement.
Another idea they have is that I have secret back channels to contact specialists. It’s true that I can sometimes contact offices to get my patients urgent appointments, but I can’t manage it all the time. And if I call the office, I have to go through the same phone trees, and listen to the same annoying music, that they do.
On the other hand, it would be disingenuous to say that there are no advantages to being a doctor when your family is sick. I thought it might be interesting to go through the advantages, and disadvantages, a doctor might have.
The Positive
They say, it’s not what you know but who you know. When your family is in the hospital, though, what you know can also be very helpful.
What you know
Where things are. As anyone who works in a large medical complex knows, these are seldom laid out intuitively. I see lost-looking people all the time. Thankfully, I didn’t have this issue at all, since I have been working here for years. And, I always knew where the nearest or best bathroom was.
Whether to worry. Let’s face it: it is never pleasant to see your loved one looking ill.
However, after taking care of hundreds (thousands?) of hospitalized patients, some sights are routine to me. Sedation? No worries, as long as I know why. General anesthesia is certainly a good explanation for someone’s grogginess. Tubes and drains? Also not super disturbing, though still not a welcome sight on my loved one.
How things work. I’ve been working in the hospital for a quite some time. Though I am not a surgeon, and seldom take care of post-operative patients, I have a pretty good idea of what needs to happen: patients need to get out of bed to a chair, they need to expand their lungs with an incentive spirometer, and their IVs should work properly. I know which snacks are available on the floors, and which have to come from the kitchen.
I made sure Mr. PiN got his IVs and snacks taken care of, and nagged him to sit in his chair. Again, I’m not saying I took better care of him than a non-medical spouse, just that I had the confidence to ask for jello when he was allowed to eat it.
Who You Know
Getting doctors to talk to you. I have to say that I already knew half the doctors who saw Mr. PiN during his work up. One I trained with, and one was my study partner in medical school. I know them pretty well, and felt comfortable asking them to call if they needed to. They were willing to give me their personal cell phone numbers, which I suspect they don’t give to everyone. (On the other hand, sometimes we have to talk to each other for work, so we probably should have exchanged numbers years ago.)
The other half who I didn’t know before? (The surgeons.) Well, we work in the same hospital, and sometimes I send them patients. I don’t know that I got more respect and attention than a non-medical patient spouse would get, but I’m pretty sure I got a more detailed discussion of the procedure and outcome. I didn’t get a cell phone number, though.
Social support. We still have limited visitors because of Covid, so I was Mr. PiN’s only visitor. The days could get a little long. However, because we were in the hospital where I work, I could see my work friends every day. One day my old office mate texted and we walked over to the coffee shop together, and gabbed for a bit before I went back to my husband’s sick room. Those few minutes thinking about something other than the invalid were most welcome.
The real, super-secret doctor advantage
Finally, we get to the real bonus of having everything done at my workplace: my office!
When Mr. PiN was taken back to the preop area, I was told I wouldn’t be able to see him for hours; I would have to wait until he was settled in his hospital room.
I was not all that interested in sitting in the surgical waiting area. The air is stale. Multiple people are sitting around, waiting to hear about their loved ones. In the meantime, there is a pandemic lurking, and we don’t want to get too close and we are all wearing masks. Did I mention I had gotten up at an ungodly hour of the night and was tired and cranky?
Instead of waiting with everyone else, I was able to go to my office and shut the door. I took off my mask, sat in a more comfortable chair, and surfed the internet (actually, I took care of some loose ends). When I felt more able to deal with the situation, I went back to the surgery waiting area.
I also was able to hide in my office a few times while ostensibly sitting with Mr. PiN, most notably when he was a tad cranky and wanted to nap.
The Negative
There were a few ways in which being a doctor made this experience worse than average.
Knowing enough to be worried
They say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
I know a lot about medicine…Internal Medicine. It has been over 20 years since I was on a surgical rotation. Some of the things those surgeons found routine in the post-op period would be emergencies in an Internal Medicine ward patient. I had to make an effort not to grill the nurses and residents about certain aspects of Mr. PiN’s recovery. I think I managed to hide my concern enough not to be that visitor.
Confusion about whether you are working or not
Sitting in my office, I had to decide if I was logging into work or not. It was a little tough to make that call some days.
More confusing for my partners was seeing me in the halls, and assuming I was at work. My across-the-hall neighbor let me know one of my clinic patients was on her service in the hospital, and wanted to discuss her care after discharge. Another partner saw me walking with Mr. PiN, didn’t recognize him, and thought I was just being very helpful. I had to explain that I was actually there as a family member, and not working.
Fighting for parking
It turns out that if you are visiting a loved one in our hospital, you are eligible for reduced parking fees. Awesome!
Not so awesome was getting grilled by the dispenser of the parking vouchers, who sees me nearly every evening as wait to be picked up from work. She asked me several times, had I been working that day. Did I do even a little work? I had to deny work 3 times before she would give me my voucher.
It reminded me of the song from the HMS Pinafore:
Chorus: What, never?
Captain: No, never!
Chorus: What never?
Captain: Hardly ever!
Gilbert and Sullivan
Regular visitors did not get the 3rd degree, just their parking vouchers. Rather quickly, too.
The Same
And then there are the ways in which being a doctor made no difference to the experience at all.
Doctor or not, if you love someone, having them undergo major surgery with significant potential risks is not easy. You worry about them while they are in the OR, you worry if they are progressing well in the post-op period, you worry about whether they are going home too soon or staying in the hospital too long. You just want them to get better, ASAP.
And when everything is over, and they are doing well, then you are just thankful. At least until the bills come…