All in Transformative
Fresh Air, CBC May 9, 2020: COVID-19 and the real back story
“Well, the government assigned 140 paralyzed patients to my hospital. I scoured the hospital and found 80 ventilators. I found another 20 in the animal labs. What am I going to do with 40 awake but paralyzed people?” “I am going to design a way for you to ventilate all 140 patients with what you have.” “Thank you Dr. Fisher. Good by.” And he hung up the phone without waiting for me say good by.
Worms Part II: Snakes in the grass
The hospital approached me and offered to have their lawyers defend me. Good on them for trying but I already knew about this trick: The hospital lawyers defend the hospital and don’t give a damn about the residents and interns. They come and go. Their best fallback position (or even an opening position!) is for the hospital is to admit the resident screwed up. The CMPA pays and they are off the hook.
Worms: Part I—worm in the throat
The Intern was typically way out of his depth, knowing little about these conditions, having never seen them, much less saw them managed. So was I, by the way. My staff was at home sleeping. If I called them, their advice would be suspect as they were remote, didn’t know the patient, and it would have been years and years since they handled things like this. At the end of the day, I was on the spot, I was responsible and therefore I took charge.
Christmas, Scott Mission for the homeless, and my dad
Further north, as we approach College Street I see a tall man wearing a long black coat, shiny black shoes, and a black shirt with a black collar that is cut away to show a white strip of cloth in front. He is bare-headed despite the nip in the air. He is standing close to a lamp post and a sandwich board with white writing and a white cross on black background.
“Hello sir, where are you from?” he says to my dad as we pass by.
My Madame Defarge moment (Paris, 1953)
Everywhere there were comic books, advertisements, posters with men with pony tails, the sans culotte, with their tricolor hats and muskets, women wearing pinafores on their dresses and revolutionary hats and headbands on their heads…and Guillotines.
A heart wrenching lesson. Conclusion. Part 3 of 3.
“No cancer.” I kept repeating to myself. “Regret” I said. “He ate himself up alive” I repeated. “He just willed himself to die”. “There was nothing I could do.”
A heart wrenching lesson in life: learned early, learned well. Part 2 of 3.
The next day I got all the rest of the tests back. I presented the patient to my staff at ward rounds. “Cancer.” he said. But as labs trickled back, no sign of cancer.
A heart wrenching lesson in life: learned early, learned well. Part 1 of 3.
I said “Ma’m, look at me and look at him. When did he last look like me?” She said “before 3 weeks ago”.