“Physician, heal thyself”
-Luke 4:23
I’m sick. My throat had the tiniest of tickles on Saturday night. By 3am Sunday morning I was experiencing chills, fever, joint aches, terrible sore throat, and your run-of-the-mill malaise (said like you’re savoring the word…it’s a great one). I spent all of Sunday morning and afternoon taking my concoction of meds, sleeping, shaking, sweating, and praying for a quick release. Today was round two, but with baby steps in the right direction.
Wait, you mean doctors get sick? Um, yeah! Even ones that exercise, eat well, and avoid most major pitfalls still succumb to the reality of being human: frail chinks in the immune system’s armor. In this case, I’m suspecting allergies or makeout poisoning (strep throat).
What’s it like for a doctor to be sick? I’ll share my experience.
1) I wake up kind of freaking out. I’m shocked that something penetrated the immune system that’s been slapping away all of the hospital creepies I deal with every day. Then I run through all of the terrible possibilities that I know of thanks to my profession. I spend time wondering if I’m overreacting–which is not so bad–but then wonder if I’m under-reacting–which would be really bad.
2) I start doing things to take care of myself. Maybe I’m embarrassed to ask for help. I really want to be taken care of: my mom would be great right now, my ex-girlfriend, my double ex-girlfriend, or anyone else I can think of who knew me well enough that I would let them see me like the mess I am right now. I’m a mess, and I shouldn’t be. I should shrug this off, but instead my despair gets an added dose of guilt (this is pathetic for a doctor). And I feel worse because the exes aren’t around because they left; maybe because I was pathetic. This is a downward spiral…so I’m back on the internet confirming my differential diagnosis and deciding on a treatment course.
3) I meet Centor criteria for strep throat (this is a clinical list of things that if filled makes it more likely that you have a bacterial source of infection–which makes you inclined to use antibiotics), plus fast onset. I start with treat the symptoms: Tylenol 1000mg plus Aleve 600mg every 6 hours. They work through different channels, so it’s good to use both (isn’t it interesting what doctors do differently?). Plus I sleep as much as I can. I also start on some augmentin.
4) I finally feel crappy enough to call Jordan because my doctor friend David made fun of me and called me a wuss. Isn’t empathy nice? No wonder doctors are such douche bags sometimes; it’s only funny if its not you that’s sick, and I’m sure he didn’t “mean it.” Jordan brings Gatorade and a Tylenol refill. Lifesaver!
5) Finally the fever breaks. I haven’t left my house all day. Still depressed and miserable. I could cry and really want a hug. It’s a lonely place in the ivory tower. I feel like I’m wasting the vacation days I took this weekend, but I can hardly move and swallowing is like being stabbed in the neck. All I can think about is getting better because I’m not getting anything done that has to be done outside of work–and this is the only time I have to do it!
6) It’s now Monday. I thought I was getting better, but I’m not. The exudates are nasty on my tonsils; even that word is gross. I give myself an IM shot of Decadron (a steroid). Being a doctor is great for having good access to medicine. I’ll give myself that. Not that I’m necessarily managing it well, but it’s also a good experiment–if it works, it’s a nice thing to know. What better way than to test it on myself! I’ve also gone through my customary pity thoughts: wishing the mom/exes were here, wondering if I’ve gotten something horrible, under-treating myself, or going to stay sick and have to be on call (Wednesday) like this (and no, there is no calling in sick, it would be a step short of sacrilege–even if I risk exposing others to what hit me; stupid logic I know). What if I never get better, or have mono? And I start cardiac anesthesia in a month. Oh man.
7) To make things worse, I feel like the “Physician, heal thyself” (A biblical “I told you so” if you read the scripture) is on its way somehow. And yes, lo-and-behold, it popped up on my facebook comments when I was looking for sympathy. Thanks for making me feel awesome. Everyone else gets sympathy, I get a why-don’t-you-just-take-of-it-yourself. Well, for one, I am. But that’s not the issue. I think it’s in times of weakness when love is a powerful source of healing. Not for just the body, but for the emotionally vulnerable mind. Hugs don’t cure fevers, but they can cure doubt, and they can give peace of mind.
I know being sick isn’t fun for anyone. These times remind me that I’m a patient, too, even if the rest of the world doesn’t think so. I certainly hope that the experience is less needy, overwhelming, and/or less full of worry (ignorance is bliss?) for others, but I know it’s some combination of all these things for each of us. I’m also thankful, because thanks to my good habits, this is the first time I’ve been sick like this in 2 or 3 years! But regardless, it’s not fun, and it isn’t any easier just because it’s part of the job.
…Off to salt-water gargleglglglglglgllglelelglelgllserglesglglg…and pray for an end to being/feeling pathetic and lonely. Oh, and why not see a doctor? Because I don’t have a primary care doctor. Yes, I know; another hippocratic hypocrite.
