She was new to me.
She was mentally challenged although I will admit that I don’t even know what the right PC word is anymore. Clinically I have tons of appropriate labels but speaking to all of you, I don’t know what term to use that will guarantee that I do not offend someone.
On top of that, she had developed dementia.
Her sister spent her entire life as her personal caretaker… never married, never had children. Out of her several siblings, she was the one who stepped up to the plate. She genuinely cared. She had watched countless times as the medical community wrote off her sister. She had watched the untold emotional and physical suffering and she felt the unfairness acutely.
One of the toughest things to deal with in this population is menstrual problems. Periods by themselves are bad enough when you understand them. Imagine trying to deal with your period when #1 you don’t know why you are bleeding from between your legs and #2 that bleeding is irregular and excessive.
As a physician, working up menstrual problems is especially hard when you have a grown person who is willing to slug you, who screams and cries and is so terribly, awfully afraid of what you are going to do to her. I don’t believe tying someone down, forcing myself upon them, should be necessary. That sort of thing only exacerbates and perpetuates fear but it took us 45 minutes just to draw her blood. I held her hand. Her sister held her other hand. Two other staff members worked together to do the draw. No one got hurt, most especially the patient, but it took us 45 minutes to get her calm enough to endure four sticks to find a good vein.
In fact, it had been years since anyone had even tried to draw her blood because of how much of a challenge it was. Still, it had to be done. And we did it. But for the rest of the day I was running 45 minutes late. I could not catch up to save my life.
I cannot go in to each patient afterwards and explain what happened. Patient privacy. Takes too long. Etc. etc. etc. But to all of those patients who graciously accepted my ambiguous apology, thank you. Thank you for not slamming me on patient satisfaction scores. Thank you for giving me the freedom to take care of this one person who really needed me.
You made a difference.
You helped save a life.
You are all my heroes and I am lucky to have you as patients.