I don’t presume to ‘teach’ any of you anything. I know who I am surrounded by; truly gifted, generous and gracious men and women. I have spent the last 20 years as a paramedic, nurse and chiropractor but this time I spent seven days in the hospital as a patient. Being ‘the doctor’ all the time I realised that I lost perspective on what it is like to be ‘the patient’. My plan is to tell you what I experienced, how it affected me as a human being first and then as a doctor. I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions.
Porters, Orderlies, Technologists/Technicians, RN’s, RPN’s, Neurologist, Intensivist, Surgeon, Anesthetist, Infectious Diseases Specialist, Attending Physician.
I was exposed to them all and they all had an impact.
The porter is one of the people I met at the hospital that has influenced me the most since resuming practice. He is the guy who wheeled me to radiology for a stat CT scan. He never said a word to me but I felt the care in how he handled the strecher I was on. The way he accelerated down straightaways, how he turned corners and even how he slowed down to go over bumps when the floor changed from tile to carpet. He never said a word but I knew he cared about me. It was the strangest thing. I had worked as a porter as a teenager and I never took that kind of care! I asked him how long he had been a porter and I was expecting 6 months or so – still a keener. I was stunned when he told me that he had been a porter for more than 20 years. Here was a guy who loved his job – a simple job – but he connected with me and conveyed his caring…without-saying-a-word. What did this mean to me? I knew in that moment that I wasn’t connecting with my patients as well as I could. My schedule as a whole had become the ‘patient’ or the ‘task’ to accomplish. During the pre-shift huddle I would look at a 3 hour shift with 50+ patients, x number of progress exams, a new patient etc… The schedule was a ‘chunk’ that I had to overcome. Success was getting through the shift and not feeling like I had seen 50+ people. What I wanted to get back to was getting to the end of a busy shift and knowing I had connected with every-single-patient. If I am not connecting with my people, why am I here?
The infectious diseases specialist (the guy I dismissed….apparently impolitely) was another important figure in this experience. I have no doubt that he is incredibly intelligent, knowledgeable ‘seasoned’, trusted – the list can go on and on. The experience I had with him was awful from a patient’s perspective. The scenario was right out of a book – it was the perfect comparative exercise. I was in my bed, knowing full-well that I was in deep doo-doo. On my left was the ‘good’ resident, on my right was the attending infectious diseases specialist; we’ll call him Dr. Dufus. :) I was nearly blind and I could only see their outlines. Both of them were explaining how serious the situation was “It’s very serious” – to be honest, I can’t remember their exact words but ‘good’ resident on the left gave me hope while ensuring I understood the gravity of the situation. I felt like I was is good hands with him. I trusted him. Dr. Dufus on the right also conveyed the seriousness of my situation but I was pretty sure he had a scythe behind his back and a tombstone already ordered. What did this mean to me? I knew in that moment that I needed to make sure that no matter how bad my patient’s situation is, that they left my report of findings or regular office visit feeling secure and confident. It is a fine art to convey the seriousness of a patient’s situation while offering hope and security. It takes effort – but I was worth the effort, and so are my patients. If I see a patient leaving my ROF looking freaked out and scared – I’ve gone too far. Like I said, I can’t remember what the ‘good’ resident said that was different; in fact it may have been the same. I think it had more to do with what Ifelt coming from him that allowed me to trust him and have hope. He was genuine, real – he connected with me. Dr. ‘Dufus’ had the appearance of trying to be compassionate but he could not care less. He did not connect. Either he was unable or unwilling. Am I always willing?
Conviction. Whether I am talking about the intensivist, the surgeon, my attending, the ID specialist (Dr. Dufus), the ‘good’ resident…..what struck me was their conviction. They knew what they knew because they just knew….ya know? There was no doubt in their words, their diagnosis, their treatment plan. The idea of going to a seminar to get spizzed and energized and convicted in their philosophy….it just would not compute. If they did go out and get “spizzed” as it were, they would probably make more human-like doctors…..but most of them were. So where did this leave me with the idea of how obvious their conviction was? Their conviction was not purely emotional. It was mostly based on knowledge. Ok, so I am not going to make any friends here but….I have to wonder how many of us spend time seriously studying our craft and keeping up to date on relevant research, technique etc. I am a pretty smart guy, I maintained an %80 plus average throughout chiropractic school but I have admit that I haven’t kept up with my knowledge base since graduation and so a lot of my conviction is emotional. I risk implying that an emotional conviction is bad, it isn’t – it’s what keeps us passionate. But. The but. Are we doctors or are we not? I intend on continuing to go to events intended to keep my emotional conviction high; I LOVE spending time with like minded people. I am also committed to investing time, money and energy in deepening my conviction by deepening my expertise. I am a doctor; my patients are worthy of my investment, and I am worthy of it too. I think that if we all did this, fewer and fewer of us would be messing around with petty ante recommendations. Quick gut check….how often do you get adjusted? How often would you want the people you love the most to get their spine checked and adjusted? How often are you recommending it to your patients? If there is a difference between those two recommendations, a lack of emotional conviction is not to blame.
Ooooops, I got on a soap box for just a sec there.
Colleagues. My fellow doctors of chiropractic. I love you all…..well, most of you anyhow! LOL. When I was laying in that hospital bed before I realized that I was in deep doo-doo and after I knew I was going to live (in the middle I could care less) I wondered what was going to happen to my practice, patients and income. Dr’s Yurij Chewpa and Ed Quirk came for a visit (I recognized their voices but could not see their faces) and I must have said something about the office when one of them (Ed, I think) said casually, “We’ll send out an email” . I saw the email; it was simple and to the point. There was no drama – basically it said that I was in the hospital, that I was pretty sick with meningitis and asked for volunteers to step in and cover for me. Long story short – as I understand it, there was a waiting list of doctors lined up to help…and any mention of remuneration was met with a look that was a mix of bewilderment and disgust! :) Before I got sick I was ‘close’ to maybe one or two of them…but most of them knew me well enough to say ‘hi how’s it goin’, nice to see you – insert small chat here’. They sprung into action – not necessarily out of some deep bond they have with me but in the spirit of love and service. THAT is what emotional conviction is all about! It still blows my mind.
My chiropractic heroes: Most of them are part of Warrior Coaching. In no particular order: (PLEASE forgive me if I left you out in my sleepy state)
- Dr David Covey
- Dr Sean Murphy
- Dr Ian McIntosh
- Dr Jason Bercovitch
- Dr Rick Penney
- Dr Mark Herman
- Dr Angela Barrow

Paul!!! Wishing you bountiful healing and love. What an experience you have had and very kind and brave to share your story with the hope of helping others. In health, Sara Smith (Herbert)
Thanks Sara!