#8

Patience is a virtue. I find I now have less of it.

I am a Neuro-ophthalmologist. That means I see patients with optic nerve diseases, brain diseases that affect the eyes, and double vision. It also means that if a doctor suspects a patient of faking vision loss, either consciously or subconsciously, I get to see them. With these patients it is my job to either find disease, conclusively prove that they can see normally and therefore have no disease, or follow them until I can prove one or the other. This takes a lot of patience. Most of these people have a lot of emotional issues and it takes a lot of talking, and sometimes crying. Some of them try to deliberately fail tests and I have to subtly trick them into seeing better than they tell me they can. It can take a long time. Sometimes I honestly can’t tell if they have disease or not and I have to rely on objective tests like MRIs or flourescein angiograms or just time. Then there are the people who I can tell immediately are faking it. These are the ones who can walk through the clinic without bumping into a chair or a wall and yet claim they cannot see. They subconsciously follow me around the room with their eyes while telling me they can’t see me. These are the patients I am having trouble with.

Everybody experiences loss. I don’t think you can compare whose loss is worse. Every loss is devastating. I do think there is a difference between expected and unexpected loss though. As an adult, I lost a grandmother. That was very difficult, but she was in her 80s, in pain, and she made the choice to withdraw her care. She was lucid, had lived a long full life, and got to say goodbye to her loved ones. That didn’t make it easy, but it was easier, for me, than losing Eric. Losing Eric has rearranged my priorities in a way losing my grandmother did not. It has brought home the fact that none of us know how long we have. A little part of me resents having to spend time with these patients who have nothing wrong with them. I want to take care of people who need me, not people who are trying to scam the system. I have to remind myself over and over that these people need me too, they are just as worthy as my patients with disease, and this is equally my job. It’s really difficult.

I also have a lot less patience with the games people play. Office gossip and politics is a huge waste of time. Say what you mean and mean what you say and let’s all get on with it. The same thing with social interactions. Luckily I’m not dating anymore and worrying about who called whom last and if it’s ok to call again.

Clearly, not everyone else has come to this revelation. It means I really have to watch how I interact with others. I think my priorities are straighter now, but other people may not agree with that.

I wonder if this is something that will pass or stay with me. I would like to have some of my patience back, I think it makes me a better doctor, mother and wife. I would still like to do away with the office politics though.