I look out the office window and admire the beautiful vista of the Opera House, Sydney Harbour, State Parliament House and Library. It is my last day of a fast-paced 2 week placement and I want to commit this view to memory.
When I turned my back on a Law degree, I never imagined a doctor could have office views like this. The offices I was accustomed to so far were the dungeons of the hospital, 4 walls and a measly window if you were lucky to get one.
But alas, such beautiful and therapeutic views were but a deceptive illusion to the action that occurred within its walls.
I find myself sitting in this office after being picked up daily by my elective supervisor, a dermatologist. Seeing we live only streets apart he insisted, it wasn’t hard to refuse…Sydney public transport or a 7 series Bimmer; a tough choice indeed. He has a post-it note to remind himself to pick me up, 715am each morning. He is a mad dermatologist (other dermatologists being more sane with 9am-5pm days) and he happily confesses this to me day 1.
The list is packed 8am to 6pm sometimes 7pm appointments, 10 minutes apart. Within the first hour we already run an hour behind and he manages to shift into a higher gear. I blink and he has re-appeared in another room (I accuse him of taking ninja lessons whilst still an undergraduate). CEOs, barristers and priests from St Mary’s come and strip down to their knickers for annual skin checks, flinch and yelp at Botox injections. The phone rings during each and every consultation. At one point he is juggling 6 people all wanting to talk to him. He jokes with his patients, discusses business, argues with them, attacks them right left and centre with the liquid nitrogen. I think he is superhuman, I find it embarrassing that a girl like me half his age is mentally and physically exhausted yet he still goes on sharp as a nail diagnosing, managing and getting through patients.
We finish an hour later than we should and make a quick exit to the hospital outpatient clinic where 3 dermatology registrars are seeing patients. He whizzes in and out dictating treatment plans. By magic we wrap up the clinic at a reasonable time. On other days instead of rushing to the hospital we make an equally speedy drive across the bridge to “God’s country”. Another consulting list awaits, with the added challenge of his cosmetic clinic upstairs which he simultaneously juggles and where I bear witness to many laser and botox treatments.
He is a brilliant doctor. He genuinely cares for his patients; he waives his fee for those who have difficult financial and social circumstances or only bulk bills. For each excision, he takes the time to do subcuticular and vertical mattress sutures; making sure the edges are aligned and everted to achieve the best cosmetic and functional results (by the end of it I think they are seriously the prettiest stitches any patient could ever want!). He genuinely cares for his staff and also a lowly medical student - imagine your chairman or boss picking you up from home and dropping you off everyday AND buying you lunch everyday! (Though lunch is really a race to see who can finish first without choking).
But my favourite times are the ride home at 9pm. We act like big kids and binge on jelly snakes. He reminisces and tells me crazy and downright hilarious stories of his time in training. The winner by a long shot is the story of legendary Dr X, the obstetrician/gynaecologist. Cut short, this gynaecologist was found by the anaesthetist to have passed away whilst performing a hysterectomy with his head slumped such that his face was in direct contact with what we call the "gynaecologist's landscape"! Sounds like something straight out from Gray's Anatomy, but he reassures me this truly occurred during his days as a medical student.
He reveals on the last day that he was terrified to take me for a fortnight placement - he has taken medical students, registrars and doctors at maximum for a few days but never as long as a fortnight - and he didn't quite know what exactly he was going to do! I can't help but laugh out loud. I realise that I've never laughed this much during any placement in my 5 years of Medicine nor had this much fun. I tell him that I haven't only taken away general dermatology learning but life lessons as well. Most importantly though, relief that there are mad (but brilliant) doctors around like him; the knowledge that you can deliver high standards of medical care while still being your crazy mad self and have roaring fun with your patients.
