The news about a medical doctor who abandoned medicine to
become an oil pipeline thief may have cast a pall on the prestige of what is
supposed to be a noble profession. But a seeming loss of the prestige of
medicine did not start today. You may have heard it before that many doctors
regret reading medicine. For me it was during my secondary school days. I had told
a neighbour who was a doctor, who further endeared me to the profession that I
would want to read medicine, and I thought he would have been pleased. But I
was taken aback when he said I should instead go into engineering or even
banking like my dad. He said medicine was not worth the trouble. I felt his
advice was suspicious. I also recall a visit to our family doctor. When I told
him my ambition, he said, “Why medicine? Since I got into medical school I have
not rested, even till now.” In my young mind I just concluded that some people
would say anything to make sure others don’t become like them.
I got into medicine anyway. I remember always waking up with
a start. The only thought was how to scale anatomy, physiology and
biochemistry. I thought it strange when other students from other departments
made a face when I tell them I studied late in the cadaver room. We dissected
with our bare hands, and from there to the cafeteria. Reading was not by
choice. It was a race against time. 24 hours was not enough, so you find
yourself borrowing from the next day and accruing deficits.
Well, I passed somehow and got into the clinical class. Just
when I thought the hurdle had been reduced, without congratulating us, the dean
clinical sciences in introducing us to the clinic said: “If you think you have
made it, you are wrong. This is the time to decide whether you should continue
the journey―or to voluntarily withdraw!” This is despite those who were
withdrawn. And despite those who became psychiatric.
Though a teacher of mine boasted of the study of medicine:
“It has never been easy, and it will never be easy,” many doctors do not want their
children to be doctors. A 2007 survey by Merritt, Hawkins indicated that 57% of
1,175 doctors questioned would not recommend the field to their children.
Another teacher of mine said his son was “crazy enough to become a doctor.”
With the coming of the Information Age, doctors have been
demystified. The awe is for software scientists, and those who can give us breathtaking
electronic gadgets. And that is where smart kids now go into, and of course sports
and music. Perhaps Bill Gates or the late Steve Jobs would not have been
popular if they were doctors.
Never known before, there is now unemployment in the
profession. After medical school you have to do the compulsory one year
internship. There are fewer accredited places for internship than the number of
medical graduates. Even those with accreditation lack the funds to absorb. So
you find fresh doctors staying more than a year, even up to two years to get
placement. And by Medical and Dental Council (MDCN) law, if you do not do the
internship within two years of graduating, you have to write a council exam. Even
after the compulsory youth service doctors look for work. Many doctors who want
to become specialists, have passed their primaries, but cannot get anywhere to
do their residency programme. I know some who have given up on that dream after
many years of attending fruitless interviews. The majority of doctors, many
with primaries, are doing one locum or the other in a private hospital where
they are paid as low as N60, 000 per month.
There are other disincentives. In the U.S doctors face
malpractice regularly. And many have stopped practising. Yet, the majority of lawsuits brought are
frivolous. In more than 91% of cases the defendant won. And only 6% of all
lawsuits go to trial. Those that are not thrown out are settled amicably. In
Nigeria it is catching on. Of course doctors who make gross inexcusable
mistakes are liable, as those who are unqualified. When a patient dies here,
and the hospital remains the best place to, there must be something the doctor
should have done he did not do. As doctors we took an oath, yes, but the oath
did not say we will save everybody. Even Jesus did not save everybody. There
was still a son of perdition.
The typical scenario in Nigeria is that the patient has taken
all sorts of self medication including traditional concoction, and when organs
have damaged they are rushed into the hospital for the doctor to perform a
miracle. Children are brought in chronically ill-looking, very anaemic and
needing blood transfusion because the parents’ neighbours told them it is
“teething”. When you tell a woman she will have an elective caesarian section
because she risks a uterine rupture from a previous caesarian section she will
say “I reject it”. Many laboratory investigations cannot be done because there
are no reagents. There are many diagnostics tools that Nigerian doctors only
read about in textbooks. Many patients are also poor and cannot do
investigations when it is available and cannot buy their medications. So your medical
knowledge hangs in the air.
There are still other
frustrations of daily clinical life. In most government hospitals the crowd
stretches the capacity of the hospital. In seeing a patient a doctor is making
the most of the 15 or so minutes he has to be with the patient, but the
patients outside grumble that you are taking a long time. But when they
themselves get inside the surgery they don’t want to leave. Some patients
complain that their doctor does not listen. But it is not so. As New York Times health columnist Danielle Ofri
puts it, “Sometimes it feels as though my brain is
juggling so many competing details, that one stray request from a patient—even
one that is quite relevant—might send the delicately balanced three-ring circus
tumbling down.” She calculated the number of thoughts a primary care
doctor juggles to do a satisfactory job, and tabulated 550. She said doctors
keep pushing so many balls into the air and that there is no doubt a few will
fall. As it stands, it seems that doctors will simply
have to continue this impossible mental high-wire act, juggling dozens of
clinical issues in their brains, panicking about dropping a critical one. The
resultant neuronal overload will continue to present a distracted air to their patients
that may be interpreted as they not listening, or perhaps not caring.
Ofri,
adds that when her computer becomes overloaded, it simply crashes. Usually, she
reboots in a fury, angry about all her lost work. However, she views her
computer with a tinge of envy. It has the luxury of being able to crash, and of
a reassuring, omniscient hand to press the reboot button. Physicians are permitted
no such extravagance.
There are still other things to ponder on. The retirement age
of professors is now 70. Yet, critically speaking doctors do more for the
people. How about increasing their retirement age to 70 also? It pains me when
doctors go on strike. But how about removing doctors from the civil service
structure and creating something different that covers all doctors in
government and the private settings? How about empowering many other hospitals,
including the private ones to do internship and residency training? How about
increasing the budget that goes to health? Wait a minute. Where is the National
Health Bill?
I can’t deny that sometimes I feel if I had not been a
doctor life would have been much easier. I do not have to do calls. My sleep
will not have to be interrupted by distress telephone calls. I do not have to
leave my wife in a dash. I am condemned to have more than my own fair share of
grieving, for every patient that dies in my unit is somehow connected to me. Gasp,
and needle pricks!
But I also shudder at what it
would mean for patients if doctors walked away from medicine because of the
frustrations. I still marvel at discovering the wonder of the human body. The
honour of being trusted by my patient to give them advice, the gratitude the
elderly ones especially show when helping them through their illness, their
prayers and blessings. These things will remain unchanging. When I look at all
these – I still consider myself lucky and privileged to be placed to look after
God’s creation.
Dr Cosmas Odoemena
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