Cadaver: A Poem

April 29, 2009
It was not as scary as we had imagined,
when we opened the metal crypt
that cradled our body- our cadaver.
The first thing I noticed were bright pink nails.
Without stories, clothing, hair, nor jewelry,
the meager remains of a lifetime
were painted on her fingers.
-
Nail polish, tattoos, or signs of treatments,
age and a brief cause of death—
these facts were surprisingly enough
to allow us this modern rite of passage.
So we claimed this body as our teacher,
probed its layers and examined its depths
an extraordinary and singular journey.
-
We were all fearful surgeon-infants,
stumbling in our movements,
not wanting to cut too deeply or tear.
Yet our body waited day by day,
asymmetrically strewn in plastic case,
with head in a translucent bag.
As we got to know this person.
-
We learned more about this body
than any other we will ever know.
Deep images of this person continue
to churn in our minds.
These pictures make us wonder
about other bodies,
especially our own.
-
The various textures on a canvas,
heart muscles like tree branches
overlapping in a dense forest.
Fibrous white connective tissue
spuming sponginess of lungs,
red fading into luminescent tendons,
sweeping in symphony to the bones.
-
We were filled with desire,
to examine new paths, to see everything,
visiting an untouched wilderness,
with curious formations, trails,
a more interesting variation
than any we had seen or imagined.
Our own medical odyssey of learning and maturation.
-
Sometimes I took a moment to recognize
we were a room full of humans
dissecting our own species
amidst automatic lights and dispensers,
loud conversations, laughter and electric saws,
shrouded in sharp scent—
indecipherable.
-
Yet, with my group and cadaver
our work was lucid.
This master guide of differentiation,
the inside of the human body in death,
had brought me closer to our life force—
the force that once animated this person, and drives us all,
with renewing potential.
-EBB

First Year Almost Over

April 20, 2009

My first year in medical school is nearly over, and it has flown by.  The 12 entries here can’t even begin to describe all the new experiences and thinking I have encountered this year.  By now, I’ve gotten used to almost everything.  I’m not quite so worried about failure, and I’m starting to enjoy the rhythm of the same people and classes that once felt so overwhelming.There have even been some big pleasures this year, such as getting to know my colleagues, working alongside great physicians and meeting patients that make me smile.

In conversations with my peers, we all question if we actually learned enough this year to qualify us to be 25% finished with our M.D. degree.  As I bounce around studying from one exam to the next, I often ponder about how much knowledge is really learned (as opposed to memorized and soon forgotten).  None of our exams are cumulative, although one could argue that certain concepts build upon one another.  According to one of my classmates who has a brother graduating this year from medical school, even he is wondering whether he knows enough.

My classmates and I are all terrified by the responsibility of being a doctor, especially as we discover how much there is to know about people’s bodies and diseases.  So, did we really learn enough this year?  I’m not sure.  There is no doubt that I have certainly learned a lot.  I can perform physical exams (not perfectly, but at least I know what I should do).  I have learned enough basic medical terminology that I can mostly decipher the technical jargon of journal articles and hospital reports.  I know all the major bones and pathways in the body, and have a basic understanding how they work (although please don’t ask me to remember the details).

Perhaps most importantly, I’ve conquered a lot of my discomforting feelings.  Those feeling that haunt everyone in medicine (all who are not cocky, that is), such as whether we really deserve to be doctors and how humbling this process can be.  So, that means I’m less nervous when I put on my white coat and walk through the hospital.  I don’t feel awkward to be left alone with a patient.  I can speak up more easily in class and in front of doctors.  I don’t squint my eyes when the lecturers show a slide of a gangrenous leg or stab wound.  And, I can hammer through the bones of my cadaver with ease (whereas earlier I didn’t even like hearing the sound).

Now, of course, I start to feel comfortable as the semester is ending!   We have three more weeks, and six exams.  This week I will begin my final exams with Pathology and Growth and Development. Anatomy will be my last exam on May 15.  Then, I will have the last real summer vacation of my foreseeable future.  Ben and I have planned a trip to Europe (France, Switzerland and Italy) to celebrate our anniversary, and then I will head off to volunteer with a medical program in the Dominican Republic.  Summer does not seem far away anymore, and my first year starts to feel like an obstacle I am glad to be nearly past.


Universal Health Care

April 15, 2009

I’ve been thinking about health coverage for years- even before I decided to go to medical school.  The first time I heard of the idea of universal health care, I was a college sophomore attending an event about local NGO’s.  One group was advocating “health care for all!”  As a young middle-class person who had been covered by my father’s employer for my whole life, I remember thinking “how strange.”  I never perceived a problem with care, even despite medical issues of my youth.

When I later spoke with my father by phone (my main sounding-board for verifying new intellectual ideas), he said, “Oh sure!  Don’t you know that every industrialized country except the US provides health care?”  His comments rattled me.  I felt like I did when I realized the USA was one of the only countries in the world that allowed the death penalty.  Suddenly, the visions of my dad opening letters from the insurance companies with total frustration and dismay poured into my mind.  Because I had never personally had a problem with health care, I assumed it wasn’t a big issue.

Furthermore, when I graduated from college a few years later, I thought it would be alright to go three months uninsured as I transitioned from my parents plan to an employer’s plan that I would be eligible for after 90 days.  I realized I was wrong about that too when my mother passionately exclaimed that in one moment a car could swipe me off a street corner and cause damage of millions and millions of dollars.  Whew!  Ok, I conceded.

That fall I had a bicycling accident that took me to the emergency room for x-rays and pain medication.  I fractured my olecranon (that means “elbow” in anatomy language), and according to my little brother, had a swollen face that made me look like a monkey,  Needless to say, I was humbled as I realized that my life could have been a total disaster had a not been insured.

Fast forward to now, and I am completely convinced the USA can achieve a better nationalized plan.  I am convinced because our health care situation is not so bad.  We have a good education system, lots of research and experimental treatments, access to anything available if you have resources, and knowledgeable doctors who don’t take bribes (as a side not, if you want to read something about the bribe-driven medical system in Eastern Europe to make you realize the USA isn’t bad after all, see this NYT article).

First of all, the US already has a national plan, but it is disorganized and unrecognized.  Medicaid and Medicare provide payment for over 50% of the medical costs in our nation, a number that’s about 15.2% of our GNP.  All prisoners, soldiers, Peace Corps Volunteers and veterans legally have access to free medical care.

I visited a veterans hospital in Nebraska this winter, and was surprised by the advanced computer-systems- which provide information about any veteran to a variety of hospitals in the region.  My own doctor’s office won’t even share within the building.  Whether Medicaid or health care systems for prisoners work as well as the veterans system is debatable.  However, my own grandparents are receiving plenty of medical treatment (even more than my grandmother can rationalize) covered under their Medicare plan.

The problem is that health care costs are sky-rocketing— the graph shows a sharp line upward, even with all other factors, such as income and inflation, adjusted.  If this rise continues, the Medicare cost of treating Alzeimer’s disease will take the total Medicare budget within 20 years.  In fact, costs have risen so much that a growing number of insured people are unable to access care and pay their medical bills.  This has raised the awareness about creating a national plan—or reorganizing the current plans as the case may be—and I firmly believe that in the next few years we will see some major changes.

According to the UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights Article 25, healthcare IS a right.  But whether or not it is a right, we can all agree that morally a government should provide some care for those who cannot afford it.  We provide food stamps to those who qualify, fire service regardless of who has fires, and public schools even though many prefer private schools.  We should expand to provide some type of basic care, which would exist as a free option to those who need it.  Nobody would be forced to go there.  Doctors wouldn’t be forced to work there.  And nobody would take away the private care or insurance companies that already exist.  It would be an option, just like the veteran’s hospitals, and I believe many Americans would want to work and go there for care.

However, I’m afraid that the only steps the US will take first is via subsidized insurance coverage—often with private insurers, rather than creating state-owned hospitals.  It’s less change, requires less capital and work up-front, and perhaps people can accept it more easily because it seems less-nationalized.” Yet, mandating insurance coverage really isn’t the same as providing basic care via a state-run, state-owned operation.

Massachusetts is considered to be “ahead” of the nation with their health care laws that require all people to have insurance.  Additionally, laws were passed that guideline basic coverage to protect consumers.  For example, in MA no person can be denied coverage for a pre-existing condition, and insurance companies must pay for fertility treatments regardless of age.  All people of low-income status qualify for subsidized insurance plans- except students (who currently aren’t covered by any subsidized plans, but that’s another long story).   Currently the state can’t afford its own legislation because it also has the most expensive care of any state in the country.

I believe this demonstrates that legislature needs to address several areas- not only the coverage of insurance providers, but also the cost for care that is set by private hospitals and clinics.  It is ridiculous that most people have no idea how much their treatments will cost beforehand- and furthermore cannot even get a straight answer when they ask.  The reason of course is that cost fluctuates depending on whether one has insurance, which insurance, no insurance, which doctor, what complications, and even how many blankets you asked for (just ask my friend Eva who was billed individually $20 for each blanket she used).

Many Americans are afraid of more government involvement, but frankly, I am afraid of what will happen in our government doesn’t get more involved.  Of course the truth of the matter is that most countries with state-run hospitals and completely free care have higher taxes (the current tax rate is about 30% in the USA, and about 60% in European countries –as a rough estimate), and they pay their doctors less (should be noted that they also have free medical tuition).

I think America can devise something new- perhaps even by reorganizing the current budget without raising taxes.  One proposal was that people could have a deductible based on their pre-tax salary.  Although honestly, I would definitely be willing to pay 5-10% more taxes if I never had to worry about insurance again.  Somewhere the line will have to be drawn to decide what care will be free (or partially covered) in order to maintain a sustainable system for all.  Obviously, cosmetic and dental care may be out of the question, but this is the part I really haven’t figure out yet—where do we draw a line?  The decision should probably be made by a group of doctors and policy-makers appointed by elected officials, and not medical students like myself.  Yet, I care a lot about this issue, and I wonder what others think.