Patients and Patience

This month I have been learning about patients/patience. I think I'll start with the crazy and move to the ... even crazier. So, the giant thunderstorm first!

Last Friday I got home early from school and was casually chatting with my mom on the balcony, enjoying the extra humid and temped air. (I use the word "enjoying" very loosely here.) The sky was a bit menacing, but I didn't think much about it. As my mom and I shot the breeze, I noticed a weird pocket of clouds start billowing directly toward me. It was the strangest thing I've ever seen! They seemed like they had their own devious personality, and were moving with such purpose and commitment! I commented to my mom how weird those clouds looked, and she started talking about tornadoes in Denver. Let's pick up the conversation there:

MOM: We had a five tornadoes on Sunday here in Denver.
BEN: Weird. I didn't know they had tornadoes there.
MOM: They started with a light trickle of rain, then the hail came.
BEN: It just started sprinkling here. Oh, and now it's hailing.
MOM: That's odd. Sounds like a tornado.
BEN: And the sky is a strange yellow color just like the last tornado we had.
MOM: Well, if it gets windy, you better go inside.
BEN: Mom, I just saw a tree snap in half and fall on a car in the parking lot. And I'm soaking wet from a huge wall of water that just blew into me. I think I better go inside now.

Needless to say, we got slammed with a crazy thunderstorm/unconfirmed tornado. By the time I finally decided to go inside, the power was already out, and the tornado sirens finally went off. I pulled out my trusty AM/FM radio from my 72 hr survival kit I got from Stacy after the last tornado, and proceeded to track the storm that way. Turns out the worst damage was right at my house.

At this point, you are probably wondering were the patience part is. Well, we didn't get power back for almost 3 days. Boo. It was miserable. 95 degree weather with 90% humidity, on the top floor of the apartment, and no way to make the air move. Dave and I bought what candles Kroger had left, and snagged the last flashlight from Wal-mart and toughed it out through the weekend. I slept on a thin sheet on the floor by the window, hoping to bask in the occasional relief of an evening breeze. No luck. Just got eaten by mosquitoes. Big ones that left quarter-sized welts all over my body. Dave and I most definitely celebrated when our power came back on. Oh, and I'm not very good at shaving by candlelight.

Now for the even crazier discussion about patients.

I'm starting to get the hang of things in the clinic. I'm no longer petrified to walk into Primary Care. And I don't think I've wet myself in front of my patients in a week or two. See, the patients we attract to The Eye Center are very . . . colorful. They have lived very adventurous, interesting lives to say the least. Most of them don't really mind when you tell them that they will go blind if they don't control their blood sugar. And they sure don't care when you say that since they didn't use their glaucoma drops they have lost half of their visual field. It is just not that important to them for some reason. I'm not exactly sure why, at this point. Since our patients are very, very unhealthy in every way, they bring in an incredible grab-bag of ocular diseases. I've spent the last two years of my life looking at healthy eyes; it can be pretty scare to stare into an eye and have it look exactly the opposite of what it should look like! At first, I was so worried about the fact that I saw something wrong that I couldn't even focus on what to do about it. I'm transitioning now into being able to pull out all the information I've learned and be able to make intelligent decisions about how to treat what I find. It's becoming very cool!

Before I let you go, I have to tell you one funny story from this last week. This story is an example of what NOT to say to a patient. I was working in the Optical department of the clinic. I received a job order card stating that a patient in the waiting room needed a screw put into her glasses. I grabbed the order, and went to the lobby to escort her back to the Optical. Let's pick up that conversation there:

ME: Pat? (Names have been changed to protect the innocent.)
PAT: That's me
ME: Alright. Follow me please.
PAT: Ok
(Along the way to the Optical)
ME: So, you need a screw?
PAT: Yes
ME: Let's do it!
PAT: I'll need to call my husband first!
ME: (baffled expression) ??
ME: (mortified expression) !!
ME: (extreme laughter) Maybe we shouldn't let him know what's going on!
PAT: Maybe he wants in!
Both: Extreme laughter
(After I helped her with her glasses)
ME: Alright, thanks for coming.
PAT: See you tomorrow night ;)

Don't do that. It's not OK.