People constantly complain in our country that there are not enough doctors, and these doctors themselves are driven into a frenzy, so that they want to quit everything, finish courses as a cosmetologist and work without unnecessary nerves.
I am a young specialist, I graduated a year ago, but I already have practice, because I worked part-time and taught us hard. I sit as a therapist in a regular clinic.
Some patients, when they see a young doctor, react adequately, do not express any complaints, all appointments are fulfilled. These are a pleasure to work with.
But most people for some reason believe that if the doctor is not yet gray with gray hair, then this is some kind of stupid kitten who was put in the office for beauty, well, or to block a hole in the wallpaper.
You start to interrogate – they talk through the lip, as if they are doing a favor. You make a diagnosis – they argue. They have already read everything on the Internet, so they know the doctor better.
I was graduating from high school and doing residency, only to hear that Tamara Vasilievna from the store near the house was ill in exactly the same way, so she was given a different diagnosis.
A natural question arises: why did you come to the doctor if you have already read on the Internet and heard enough of all sorts of neighbors and acquaintances? To brag regarding knowledge or what?
And how people like to argue over appointments, just a song. Okay, when they ask to prescribe something else, when there has already been an unpleasant experience, an allergy, for example.
But there are people who are beginning to prove that I prescribe fuflomycin for them. Some acquaintance of his drank, it did not help her, so I will not drink.
What was the illness of your friend? About the same? About? A very precise definition. He explains everything, so it is necessary to be treated – with something from something.
Then these people do not drink the prescribed medicines, because they are expensive, they don’t like it, a neighbor advised something else, and following a while they come to me to swear that the treatment does not help them. So you are being treated with what I prescribed, and if you believe the neighbors, then go to the neighbors to swear too, and not to me.
All these showdowns, where I have to prove my case, not only shake my nerves at the speed of light, but also take time, which I always have very little.
While you convince one grandmother that she does not have pneumonia, but SARS, a crowd of angry patients from the queue is already rushing to the head physician to tell on. They’ve got a ticket for ten and they still haven’t come in.
By the end of the working day, you no longer want to see or hear people. You prescribe a medicine for them, and they immediately ask you what will happen if you don’t drink it. You prescribe tests, and they tell you that they have no time to take them, they have children, bedridden grandmothers and work.
Some particularly caustic patients go and take a voucher to another therapist, who, due to his age, is considered more experienced, to double-check my diagnosis.
One lady proudly told me that my diagnosis was confirmed, she went to another therapist. What for? Why create queues? They are so endless.
Moreover, older colleagues do not have such problems, I asked. I am advised not to take all these words of patients to heart, but each time it is harder to do so.
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