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Post by htmb on Jul 16, 2013 13:30:47 GMT
I had a routine diagnostic test this morning at our medical center's new facility and, while I think I am pretty hard to impress, I left there on a very positive note. Every single staff person in the department I visited was personable, courteous, and went out if their way to make sure I had what I needed. They even pronounced my name correctly, which is no easy feat in the U.S., apparently.
What really got me excited was the technician who actually performed the test on a brand new machine. Without me asking questions she volunteered to explain how it worked and - this is the part that's so amazing - she showed me the screen images and explained the differences between the older version of the test and the results this new "state-of-the-art" equipment produces. I have never had a technician be so forthcoming in all the years I've had medical imaging exams going back to when I was pregnant with twins. The attitude has always seemed to be "wait until the doctor can interpret the results," and "no, you can't see the screen."
While I do not enjoy going in for any type of medical procedure, it certainly was a comfortable and positive experience. Someone must have rewritten the "how to treat the patient properly" manual.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2013 13:40:19 GMT
One thing that is clear is that they had a lot more time than medical staff often do, at least from my own experience. I generally feel that I am on the conveyor belt of a production line, except when I go to see my GP who talks on and on about his coin collection and the fact his impression that the Bangladeshis are driving his patients out of the neighbourhood.
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Post by htmb on Jul 16, 2013 13:50:57 GMT
While it was early in the morning, my appointment was at a facility that is part of one of the largest medical centers in the southeastern United States. I was one of many patients already present for appointments in my department. This was no cushy private practice, I can assure you.
I have a different appointment in another department the end of next month. We'll see how it compares.
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Post by htmb on Jul 16, 2013 14:11:50 GMT
I do understand that "conveyor belt" feeling, but I've always equated it to a herd of cattle being led to slaughter.
After many years with the same internal medicine physician, mine has moved on to another university to become dean of their medical school. I have an appointment with my new doctor in a few weeks, so we will see how that goes. This time I will have to go to the main facility on the university campus. It's a huge place - a city within a city - and can feel like you are traveling to a whole other planet.
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Post by htmb on Jul 16, 2013 20:29:46 GMT
My "luck" has seemed to continue through the day. I called to make an appointment to see my dentist, something I really didn't want to do, and instead of fitting me in a few weeks down they said to come right away since they'd had a cancellation. I had been avoiding this appointment because it was going to be an unpleasant and expensive experience, but my dentist is retiring so I hadn't wanted to put it off for too long. My dentist is very kind and gentle, so other than a numb mouth and an empty wallet, I fared well. I did manage to sneak a cell phone photo of a few of his torture devices when he was out of the room.
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Post by patricklondon on Jul 17, 2013 15:20:09 GMT
I haven't had one go into quite that level of detail, but all the medical people I've dealt with over the last few years have gone out of their way to be explanatory about what they were doing and why: my GP bringing out the textbook to talk me through risk statistics for the levels in my test results (maybe it was a way to cover refreshing his own memory!), and a hospital doctor printing out the results of an endoscopy (complete with pretty pictures of my innards) to explain what it all meant.
Funny, almost exactly the same thing happened at my dentist's (only it was an early ap;pointment the following day) - and she insisted on showing me the X-rays to prove I needed a filling (boo).
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Post by htmb on Jul 17, 2013 21:57:26 GMT
Always nice to get that kind of treatment, but minus the news of a cavity, Patrick.
The dentist I saw up until the age of 18 was an overstressed man who constantly shouted at me to open my mouth wider (I have a small mouth). He also never used anesthesia when filling a cavity. Even though the two dentists I've had as an adult have been really nice, gentle men with great skill, once they get to work on something major such as yesterday, I can still hear that stressed-out Italian's voice in my head.
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Post by mossie on Jul 18, 2013 7:44:00 GMT
Dentists have improved over the years. One of my early experiences was on leaving school. We had to have a session with the school dentist. This daft woman decided that I had to have two extractions. She had a woman assistant, while one held my head the other played tug of war with the pliers clamped to my teeth. They bled profusely and I was sent home with the holes plugged with cotton wool. During the night one came out and my pillow was soaked in blood, my mother was not amused. When I was in the RAF we had to have a dental inspection every 6 months, to fly with a cavity under a filling can be agonising. In Egypt we had a real butcher who would insist on at least one filling each visit
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Post by htmb on Jul 19, 2013 3:03:54 GMT
Ugh! Lots of misery there, Mossie!
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Post by mossie on Jul 19, 2013 7:48:16 GMT
There is more Just before I got married I was temporarily on one of the largest RAF bases and decided to go to the dentist so my mouth was clean ;D He was a very senior dentist. He took one look round my mouth and then said something like,"was he drunk when he did this?". Then after much poking and prodding, announced that 13 fillings would have to be replaced. OUCH. This was the good old days with proper carpenters type drills ;D
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Post by htmb on Jul 19, 2013 11:02:55 GMT
He replaced 13 fillings? How awful, Mossie. Must have taken forever to do. When I was a very small child my pediatrician was a chain smoker who always smoked through every examination. I can remember him looking into my ears and mouth, with me wondering if the evergrowing ash on the end of his cigarette was going to fall onto me.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2013 13:26:15 GMT
Influenced by my mother, who had dental phobia after a traumatic experience when she was 8 years old (and who now has not all that many teeth left in her mouth), I avoided the dentist as much as possible and did not go to see one for 26 years. I finally gave in because, well, I had a toothache. However, rather than going to a normal dentist, I went to the dental school of the University of Paris. They only let 6th year (& above) students touch you, and everything they do is supervised by the professors who come to check the work at the end of the session. This was the best part for me, because at a normal dentist, you have no idea if the person just barely scraped through dental school or was at the top of the class.
There are some inconveniences as well -- the students work slowly and have not always learned to be as gentle as you would like. And if they do something wrong, the professors tells them to do it all over again... next week. But you have the same student from start to finish, so at least you build a Relationship and the person knows what you can and cannot stand.
Actually, there were a bit disappointed with me at the dental school. I had told them on the phone that it was my first visit in 26 years. On your first visit, they just clean your teeth and make an inventory of what needs to be done. Well, they called over a group of students to see me, because they were under the impression that my 26 years of "neglect" would reveal a rotten mine of black stumps -- an eldorado, as far as they were concerned. They were horrified to see that not only did I basically not have any cavities, but that apparently I suffer from a deficiency of tartar and plaque. The students all walked away in disgust, even when one of them pointed out hopefully "Look! They're still there!" The professor said wearily, "if they don't bother him, we don't touch them." I realized later that they were talking about the (apparent) phenomenon that I have my wisdom teeth.
Anyway, there was the matter of the toothache, and there was a cavity there, which had defiantly progressed and which would require a root canal and a crown. This would begin at my next session. I was set up for an appointment every Friday at 4:30 p.m. for as many weeks as it would take.
Jesus Mary Mother of God, I don't know if my student did the worst root canals in the world or if everybody suffers this agony. And he was having such fun, twisting his instrument of torture and laughing gleefully whenever anything came loose. And also I did not expect the sessions to last sometimes up until 8 p.m. One consolation for me was being in a big room with about 20 other patients. We were all separated by partitions, but knowing that I was not suffering all by myself helped me to bear the situation. Still, when we would finish up late, sometimes there were only one or two others left.
Anyway, this stuff went on for weeks -- when there are school holidays, the dental school closes, too, and there was even a strike once. But at each and every session, before I left, the student had to get a professor to check his work and sign his approval... or not. I had one example of the difference between a student and a professor once when the professor decided to observe during an x-ray session. The student was nearly choking me to death, shoving those plastic things -- and half of his hand -- in my mouth and then telling me to hold still as I was gagging and turning purple. The professor told him "you're doing it wrong. Watch me do it. She took the x-ray squares and slipped them in my mouth using just a finger or two. They were in the perfect place immediately and I was not gagging. Experience definitely counts.
Anyway, it's been about 10 years now. I don't know if I'll ever need to go to the dentist again, but if I do, I will return to the dental school. In spite of my suffering, I really liked my student and I felt that both of us were learning together how to do all of this stuff. But I am even happier that I inherited my grandmother's teeth. She still had them all, without a cavity, when she died at age 93.
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Post by htmb on Jul 19, 2013 14:09:07 GMT
Root canals are bad enough with a practiced dentist, so I can only imagine what your experience with a student must have been like. Ouch! Yes, you are very fortunate to have inherited your grandmother's "good teeth" gene. We should all be so lucky!
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Post by nutraxfornerves on Jul 20, 2013 15:52:42 GMT
I have a family history of colon cancer, so my doc scheduled me for what's called a "flexible sigmoidoscopy." Not as invasive as a full colonoscopy, but still not fun.
I arrive and, oh, goodie. Two male doctors and a male nurse. One of the docs explained that the second one was a resident in training. The procedure was a bit uncomfortable and seriously undignified, but they didn't torture me or anything.
What I really admired was how the full-fledged doc used it as a teaching moment for the resident, without causing him to lose face. The teaching was not about how to do the procedure, but how to not freak out the patient. The resident kept making noises or saying "Oh!" or "Ah!" The doc would immediately reply "Yes, that area is free of problems." Or "that was a bit tricky, but you did a good job of moving around."
Imagine you are a body having your gut examined. Every time someone says "Oh!" or grunts, you wonder what horrible thing was found. The doc showed the resident that such grunting is not a good idea and that the patient needs to be reassured that nothing is wrong. He did it very well.
(All was negative & I've since had 2 full colonoscopies that were also negative.)
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Post by bjd on Jul 20, 2013 16:01:53 GMT
My only experience with medical students was when I was in my late 30s and the gynecologist decided that my low iron levels required a visit to the hematology section of the hospital so they could run some tests.
I went there, and while the head doctor was off reading various results, various male students kept coming and asking me the same questions. One of them even wanted to do a gynecological exam! I said no.
Finally I was told that I just had really low iron levels and that I wasn't anemic or anything dramatic.
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Post by htmb on Jul 20, 2013 16:21:16 GMT
Nutrax, flexible sigmoidoscopies are for the truly brave. When I had the procedure done I was able to watch the screen. It felt a lot like watching the chidren's animated show Magic Schoolbus, where the teacher, Ms. Frizzle, takes her students on exploratory trips.
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Post by mossie on Jul 20, 2013 18:41:59 GMT
I had a wonderful moment with a trainee surgeon observing. I had a small black mark on my lip which suddenly started growing, looking like a spider crawling down my chin. So they decided to cut it out The worst part was the anaesthetic which they warned me would feel like a bee sting, why they had to ram it in about 6 times I have no idea. Anyway, I lay there bravely on the table expecting one or two swift slices and it would all be over. But not a bit of it, the skin had to be saved wherever possible and the nerves had to be avoided if possible. So the skin was cut to about 14 flaps which were folded back while the real cutting out was done. Then these tiny flaps of skin all had to be stitched back into place. All done to a running commentary to ensure the trainee understood the procedure, which I mostly found enlightening, but sometimes frightening All was going well until near the end when they had an argument over which piece of skin went where . I was most relieved to slide off the table after about 45 minutes of trying not to move, talk, or laugh. I was asked if I had someone to take me home, lied "yes", and walked home about a mile across our local golf course.
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Post by htmb on Jul 20, 2013 23:32:12 GMT
I bet you couldn't wait to get out of there, Mossie. I would have wanted to bite their fingers.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 21, 2013 10:03:26 GMT
One of my friends had breast reduction surgery and she insisted on showing me the photographs afterwards. I was not ready to see the detached nipples sitting on a plate waiting to be put back on.
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Post by htmb on Jul 21, 2013 12:35:57 GMT
Stretching the medical courtesy topic even a bit further...
When I was away at college in Gainesville my little sister was also being treated for cancer. My parents found the best specialist available to them for her care. He was highly educated and appeared to be very serious-minded. The specialist was also an adjunct professor at the University of Florida and visited here once a month to lecture.
At that time my college boyfriend and I used to visit a student bar called "Dubs" where they featured cheap beer and great bands for dancing. It's where Tom Petty's band got its start when he and other local boys were known as Mudcrutch. They were the house band. It was a pretty wild place with all kinds of contests bringing out the craziest of student behaviors.
I was horrified when I ran into my little sister's physician at Dubs. He must have been in Gainesville to lecture. He appeared to be having a great time groping girls, dancing and drinking. Since it was a student bar full of 21 year olds he stood out as a 45 year old ( old man to us). I knew he was married and had a few kids, but the worse part for me was thinking this jackass was supposed to be figuring out how to save my sister's life.
I'm sure it must be tough treating little kids, many of whom die, but seeing him clown it up in a student bar full of college girls really presented me with an ethical dilemma. I decided not to tell my parents - they would have been crushed - and stuck by that decision until a few years later when my mother told me doc was getting a divorce.
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Post by mossie on Jul 21, 2013 14:00:56 GMT
Difficult
now that I am a DOM (dirty old man) I realise what a dilemma it was
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Post by htmb on Jul 26, 2013 12:03:36 GMT
Mossie, you could never fit into the DOM category!
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Post by htmb on Jul 31, 2013 19:24:56 GMT
After almost 15 years of seeing the same primary care physician mine has moved out of state. I've been a bit unhappy about it from a personal point of view, but after meeting my new doctor today I'm feeling a bit better. She seemed intelligent and personable. She also gave me a good report which makes me like her even more.
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