“Chia buo᷈n” – Vietnamese phrase meaning “share in the
sorrow”
If your time is limited, don’t read this blog post. Instead,
turn directly to the second-place-winning essay in the Humanism in Medicine contest; this essay was written by David B. Duong, a third-year medical
student. In this essay, Dr. Duong – and
I refer to him as “Doctor,” as this essay shows me that he already has the
knowledge of the art of medicine that confers upon him that title – writes about
his experience acting as the translator for a Vietnamese patient with end-stage
colon cancer. He takes us through the
experience of being at the patient’s and the family’s side, as they go through
the confusion and the required decision-making when the 83-year-old patriarch
is in the hospital with a bowel perforation – a hole in the large
intestines. David Duong, through his
caring, helps the man and the family understand the illness, understand their options,
and ultimately says goodbye when the man goes home with palliative services to
spend his last days with his family.
Duong writes toward the end of the piece:
“As a final goodbye, I reach out my hand to shake his and
wish him continued health and strength.
He grabs my hand and tells me, ‘Thank you for helping me not be afraid.’
… I have also learned that by caring for the patient, by placing the patient at
the center of our medical practice, we can establish a trust relationship that
just might lessen that fear.”
In this essay, David Duong never once mentions costs, and my
bringing it into the discussion may seem to some to be crass --as though I am
diluting the message of caring and trust that is inherent in this essay. However, I see cost and care as going
together. For me, lowering costs in ways
that maintain trust and relationships is critical to good care, as it improves
access to care. Unfortunately, many of
our well-meaning efforts to lower costs end up diluting trust by short-changing
the time and communication critical to building and maintaining needed
healthcare relationships. David’s
interaction with this family saved money.
By caring for the patient and the family, and by communicating with them
using their language, their values and their culture, he helped them embrace
home palliative care. This type of
situation could have easily have been much different. The fearful family and
patient, not trusting the doctors and nurses caring for them, could have demanded
“everything” be done, causing useless pain and cost.
In this era of 10-minute office visits, Internet-based
self-service diagnosis and algorithm-driven healthcare, I still believe that
the most effective way to lower costs is to have trusted health professionals
at the side of people in need. David
Duong’s essay conveys that message more eloquently than I ever could.