i had 6 patients in my cubicle this morning. by the end of the day, i’ve discharged 4, 2 of them at their own risk. one patient’s been transferred to another cubicle and the sixth…well, he wanted to go home against our advice too.
i ran before he had the chance to harass me. it’s just not one of those days when i’m feeling generous and hardworking enough to try and talk a stubborn 68-year-old man into staying for one more night of observation before he can go back to being a stubborn 68-year-old man at the comfort of his own home. i’d already spent enough energy earlier in the day trying to convince a patient that we’re doing what we can for him, that there’s no indication to change antibiotics as yet (it’s been 2 days okay…only two. freaking. days!), and that he will receive the exact same treatment in a private hospital albeit at a higher fee and risk of getting antibiotic resistance if he leaves.
and as my medical officer raised an eyebrow at me while i tried to tell the 68-year-old stubborn man to shut his pie hole and go back to his bed in the nicest way possible, i thought…what the crap. what the frickin’ bloody crap.
i just had to get out of there. many apologies to my colleagues who were still taking bloods from a new patient. the thought of staying even a minute more, only to trudge back again at 7 for my 12th night of tagging, was…no, i just didn’t even want to think about it.
but i can’t quit medicine. it’s not about how much i have to lose if i do…it’s what i can never regain. i might as well make the most out of it and hopefully find a passion to last a lifetime.
one more hour of rest before it’s back to the grind. please let me get home by 11 tonight.