Friday, September 30, 2005

There are horrible people, and then there are horrible people

Dear Mister Registrar,

What was going through your mind when you curtly told us off this morning? When you told me to stop scrubbing up because my gown sleeve brushed against the cupboard door, and asked me to get out of the room, and get the other student in? When you asked my friend to get out as well after asking him to show you how to open the packet containing the gown? When you treated us like idiots and said oh so loftily that the patient "isn't a mannequin for you people to play around with", did you really think that we couldn't be bothered about his well-being? Did you not think that perhaps you were blowing things up beyond all proportion?

I understand that you had the patient in mind, and his health was your first priority. People make mistakes. We are in our sixth week in the first surgery posting, and surely our scrubbing technique cannot be as perfect as someone who has been doing it every other day for the past several years. Tell us our mistake, and we will learn. Was there a need to be so harsh about it, to make us feel like incompetent fools? If you tell us off for not knowing anything, and dismiss us, will we then have learnt anything new from the experience? Nothing. Nothing useful at all, aside from the fact that, possibly, you are the worst doctor we have ever met in our lives.

What we cannot see, Mister Registrar, is why you seem to make a habit out of putting misery into the lives of people who meet you in the course of their work. Whether it be medical students, nurses, or other doctors, as long as they are lower-ranked than you, you seem to take delight in mercilessly picking on their mistakes. Do you find delight in doing so? From whatever perspective I try to view things, I cannot put myself in your shoes and see myself doing the same. Do you have a problem with other people?

"He's not so bad, actually," my friend told me. He believed that you weren't as terrible a person as all of us thought you were. He said we were exaggerating. That's right, Mister Registrar, you have a reputation so bad it spreads beyond the walls of the hospital you work in, and your name is synonymous with adjectives that cannot be mentioned on a site like this. People react when they hear that name, and not in a pleasant manner. Despite all this, my friend chose to defend you. I wonder why. You see, despite all the nasty things you've done to him and to all of us, he thinks you have a good side to you, that there's something to be praised. So why can't you prove him right? I tried to make myself see things in his perspective, but after today I cannot any longer.

Did you notice that we left the operating theatre not five minutes after you told us off? Perhaps you didn't notice. Or perhaps that was what you wanted to see, perhaps it proved your point that we were only there to "play around with the patient". The truth was we could not bear to stay in the same room with you, and watch as you curry-favoured the professor. To us, you have nothing but unkind words, but you were all meekness and sugar-coated words when you explained to the prof why you didn't allow us to scrub up. You think everyone is blind? We are simply too polite to point out what a hypocrite you are. You make us want to throw up.

The other registrar on your team ticked us off for not paying attention while he was teaching about urinary catheterisation, but after that he continued to explain the points very patiently to us. He is nothing like you, and perhaps you know that. We hope you know that. Am I making all this fuss about nothing? I don't know, why don't you tell me what the meaning of making a big fuss actually is.

I have no idea what goes through your minds when you treat medical students like dirt. Come to think of it I'd rather not know. What I will say is that if your intention was to make our lives miserable, you have been very successful at it, and will continue to be very successful at it. Today, the 30th of September, is the most miserable day of my entire eight-week posting, and that's all thanks to you. Thank you, Mister Registrar.

As a parting note, I'd like to tell you that I will always remember your name. Honoured, aren't you? The reason why I'll always remember you is as a reminder to myself to never become the sort of person you have become. I pity you, Mister Registrar. You are such a sorry miserable sod. So miserable that you have to insist on people calling you Mister instead of Doctor, just because it's more appropriate. You know, there are surgeons out there who actually deserve to be called Mister. And then there are people who just have that term attached to their names. You seriously think you belong to the first group? Think again.

Yours sincerely,
Student

Avaris / 9/30/2005 08:17:00 PM

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