Aula Ramo is an internal medicine resident.
Standing in the hallway, I look attentively to the computer screen while the attending skims the records. “This is a longstanding patient of mine. I’m just going to have you listen while we do a visit with our psychologist,” he says. With the paucity of chairs, I stand. I wondered if it would add an unnecessary sense of urgency to the seemingly comforting timelessness to my attending and psychologist’s voices, …
“I can’t take this, doc. It’s gonna kill me. I can’t. I just can’t,” exclaims my patient with persistent refusal of his medication. My frustration is met with my patient care team’s hesitation to give him the medication with fear of further conflict and possible escalation to violence. But who’s at fault? Any of us? All of us?
My second patient, lying on the MRI table, shaking his head swiftly in …
Barriers. Barriers of yellow tape and plastic mark our makeshift rooms. Red zippers define the “ENTER” and “EXIT.” In the middle is a window of still clearer plastic, partially obscured by taped ECGs. Barriers are put up to keep us safe, but they can do so much more, if we let them.
A tap on the plastic window has become the universal command of attention from the nurses, residents, and respiratory …
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