Pneumonochrome

Everyone seems to know that doctors take the Oath of Hippocrates, or Hippocratic Oath, before entering their practices. Well, I took it today. Kind of. The oath I took today read as follows:

I solemnly pledge to consecrate my life to the service of humanity. I will practice medicine with conscience and dignity. The health and life of my patent will be my first consideration.

I will hold in confidence all that my patient confides in me. I will maintain the honor and the noble traditions of the medical profession. I will give respect and gratitude to my deserving teachers.

My colleagues will be as my family. I will not permit personal considerations to interfere with my duty to my patients. I will maintain the utmost respect for human life.

Even under threat I will not use my knowledge contrary to the laws of humanity. These promises I make freely and upon my honor.

Now, another thing most people seem to know (including me, prior to today) is that the Hippocratic Oath contains a phrase similar to “First, do no harm,” or, “to never practice deadly medicine.” Reading the above, you’ll not find such a phrase. The first sentence of the last paragraph is as close as it comes.

Noticing this drove me to do some research, and as it turns out, Hippocrates probably wasn’t the original author of the oath we attribute to him. Nor does the phrase, “First, do no harm” appear in the original Oath as we know it today. There is a phrase similar, though:

I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect.

A common updated revision of the Oath contains the following:

Above all, I must not play at God.

It seems that the spirit of the Oath, as intended by whomever the original author was, indicates that a doctor should never take a life. Ever. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about the Hippocratic Oath, so I was a bit sad when the oath we took today in our White Coat Ceremony included nothing of the sort. I fully believe that a doctor has no business doing anything that would end life. His job is to prolong and improve it to the best of his ability. It makes me sad that society has changed enough today that such a prohibition on taking life is simply not feasible.

Though I wonder at the differences between the oath I took today and the more accepted versions of the Hippocratic Oath, I still appreciate the sentiments expressed in the oath I took, and I can plan a practice around those principles without regret, specifically that I will:

• Practice Medicine in the service of others
• Acknowledge my responsibilities to my patients, and maintain honor in my practice.
• Keep a patient’s confidence.
• Make time-tested medical methods a part of my practice
• Be grateful for those who helped shape me into the doctor I will one day be
• Not let personal concerns prevent me from fulfilling my duty as a physician
• Respect human life
• Use my knowledge and skills to improve, never to degrade, the lives of others.

In my opinion, those principles form a solid foundation for a patient-centered practice, which is exactly the kind of care I feel is at the root of medicine: I’ll be a doctor not to help myself, but to help others.

It’s been a bit unreal, this week, going through the orientation, swimming through all the information (mostly unimportant) I was given during orientation, and now after having received my white coat and gone through that ceremony, I feel as if I’m really, finally, a Physician in training.

So, I was planning to continue working as long as I could, through the end of my second year if possible, while I  attended Medical School.  One of the things orientation convinced me of, however, was that “as long as I could,” will be… maybe 3 weeks.  There’s just too much to do to make sure I do well in medical school, and stay involved enough that I’ll be able to get the residency I want in 4 years.  If I tried to work, too, I’d never see my family at all, and I’d prefer not to abandon them until residency forces me to.

So now I’m facing the prospect of knowing, for the first time in 10 years, that I’m going to be unemployed, and living on a fixed income for a while.  It’s a little stressful looking at the money my loans provide and comparing it with the cost of attendance (health insurance, tuition, books, rent, food, gas, etc…), and not knowing how I’m going to make the latter number be smaller than the former.

It’s hard for me, having been so independent financially for so long, to know that I’m going to be confined to a very small income, and that there’s no chance of increasing it.  I’m supposed to provide for my family, and provide well enough that they have at least a somewhat comfortable life.  I don’t know how to do that in my new circumstances, though.  I have no idea.

It’s terrifying me today, and I’m hoping that terror won’t show when I stand in front of a lot of people, receive my first white coat, and recite the Oath of Hippocrites today.  I hope I don’t suddenly lose it, under the weight of it all, and puke all over whoever is standing in front of me.  I guess it’s a good thing they forgot to schedule us time for lunch, because my stomach is currently almost empty from breakfast, and it’s starting to wrestle with my intestines.  I’m hoping they don’t get carried away and force my esophagus and pharynx into the mix, because they don’t like wrestling.  It always turns out bad for them, and they are getting a bit nervous.

It’s official. I’m now actually a medical student. We had most of our orientation, which is a thorough exercise in inefficiency.  I can only assume that’s to help us start developing a tolerance for the way business is done with HMOs right out of the gate.  They do orientation for three days when if I’d sat down and planned it, it would have taken less than one.  Not sure why they feel the need to stretch it out.  The good part about it, though, is that they feed us at least one meal every day.  Perhaps preparation for the drug reps?  I don’t know.

Anyhow, orientation’s almost done, tuition is paid, books will be purchased tomorrow, and I’ll get my white coat on Friday when I promise to be a good doctor in front of all my classmates and our collective families, along with a few faculty members and big donors.

Tomorrow will be the Anatomy Lab Orientation.  That’s where they teach us how to behave in a room full of donated bodies so as to show respect for the donation and not cause any accidents resulting in the maiming of our class mates.  I’d be more apprehensive, I think, if I hadn’t spent a year doing human dissection already, now it’s just more of a, “Cool, finally something that has something to do with my education,” kind of thing.

Today was also my birthday.  It was fun.  I got Serenity, some other DVDs and some clothes.  Also some yummy cake and ice cream.  Which reminds me:  My son is HILARIOUS with ice cream.  He likes to eat with his hands, and he loves ice cream.  This works quite well for him until the ice cream makes his hand so cold it’s painful.  Then he cries, sticks the hand in his mouth to get what ice cream he can off of it and enjoy the warmer environment in there, and reaches out and grabs the ice cream again, immediately crying out in pain and starting the process over again.  That was endless amusement I tell you.  Almost like watching him trying to eat a dill pickle.  He hates them, but every time he sees me eating one, he feels the need to try to take a bite out of it, resulting in the funniest faces, and he’ll do this repeatedly until I’ve finished my pickle.

I wonder if I was like that when I was that little.  Probably, my mom always tells me he acts just like me.  I tell her it’s her fault, that I’m quite sure she invoked the “mother’s curse” on me at least once.  She says, “No, I’d never wish you on anyone, even you.”