Crying is often a healthy way to express and release emotions, and it should not be stigmatized as shameful, even in front of a medical professional. Rather, I should welcome the emotional openness of my patients.
Siloam Health stands in a unique place in the landscape of the American health system as a primary care clinic for the uninsured. Shouldn’t our healthcare system be emphasizing quality care for these, the ones who need it most?
Home visits have an immense value in the refugee population to increase patient education and compliance with treatment and allow providers to assess and overcome barriers to care that result from lack of resources in the home.
The A&E. I have enormous appreciation for the staff, nurses, residents, and attendings I met during my time in Guyana. In a short time, they have welcomed me into their emergency department, helped sharpen my clinical skills, and become a second family far from home. What’s more, there are actually some elements of Guyanese health care that I wish for after returning home, such as universal health care and access to primary care. There were many times I could send a patient from the A&E directly to a specialty clinic the same day. I prescribed medications knowing that patients could fill them for free from the hospital pharmacy. Time and again, I was shown ways in which low resource did not equate to low quality care.
Personally, working in the A&E has challenged me in surprising ways. There are not nearly enough nurses and staff available to start IVs, draw blood, hang IV fluids, administer medications, or reassess patients. Much of that responsibility is left to the physician, and it’s awkward to admit I’ve placed more IVs in 2 weeks than I have in all of residency. Lab results can take half a day to return and a CT scan is often out of the question. While it is actually refreshing to rely on my physical exam, technical skills, and clinical intuition to take care of patients, I feel the weight of each decision I make much more.
The statistics were just numbers to me until my first few weeks at Georgetown Public Hospital, where suicide attempt is a routine chief complaint and deaths from poisoning and hanging are common in our emergency department. These are just the patients that survive to get to the emergency department. In the US, I had seen plenty of suicidal patients, usually with a minimal gesture like taking 5 tabs of Tylenol in order to buy an admission to a psychiatric ward. In Guyana, suicidal patients mean it, and they are usually successful the first time.
Working on the ground in a global health field position is a special chance to observe the collisions of world views, and Georgetown, Guyana is one of the most spectacular melting pots to do so. I am fortunate to work with resident physicians, nurses and students who are supremely passionate about providing the best emergency care for everyone who comes through our doors. We have great and powerful motivations from our faiths, families, friends and life stories. But as is always the case, an army of do-gooders cannot meet the needs of a whole population. How do we move from the cottage industry of global health into a world of systemic change?