Ever watched the show, Mystery Diagnosis?
If you're a health care pro – you might just learn something! Here's the 411 on this show...
Generally, a person is having some type of medical problem. The issue gets worse, they go to see a doc, the problem continues to get worse, they go see another doc, repeat repeat repeat.
Finally, the person is seen by a doctor who correctly diagnosis the problem. Why didn't the first doc get a better handle on it? Almost inevitably, the doc who gives the final diagnosis does so because he/she has done something no one else has bothered to do: Listen!
One of the docs interviewed tonight gave his philosophy on treating patients. He said, "I like the patient to tell me everything they can that's been going on, almost like telling me a story. Every pain, every bit of sickness, every kind of fatigue – I want to hear it all."
Tonight, his diagnosis was of a rare liver disease which, if monitored closely and treated correctly, shouldn't be a great inhibitor of the patient's life. Left untreated, death was imminent.
Now, docs who can put two and two together are better than health care pros who cannot. This doc took all of about eight minutes with his patient until he had the correct diagnosis. He listened, he asked the right questions and those streams of thought led to an accurate diagnosis (one that ultimately saved the life of his patient.)
Big, BIG keys to patient care:
1. Listen
2. Ask the right questions
Easier said than done? Sure, but is there any other way?
Monday, June 23, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Your Staff is You, Doctor
I went to fill a prescription for eye drops this morning. If I have an eye inflammation flare up, this drop usually helps relieve some of the burning. Right to the source, no waiting for drugs to be absorbed into my system, etc.
As with all doctors, the prescribing physician has horrible handwriting. The script was written for four refills, but this was the first time I've filled it. The pharmacist couldn't read the doc's handwriting, so called the doc's office. Of course, the doc is out today, so the pharmacist spoke to the nurse. The doc had failed to log his script to me, so the nurse probably thinks I'm trying to pull one over on them. Am I? Jeez – if I wanted to get some drugs, don't you think I'd try to get something psycho active like Darvocet or Zanex? But no... I'm wanting to get some relief in drop form for eye inflammation and the pharmacist, the doc's office, seemingly every person I talk to is eyeing me suspiciously like I'm trying to commit a crime!
This will all be straightened out within the next hour or two (I hope), but the doctor's nurse is really hacking me off. I'm not a criminal, I'm not trying to pull one over on anyone, I just want the eye drops prescribed to me! As if getting screwed for $60 per bottle isn't bad enough, now I'm treated like a criminal.
Docs – your staff is you. It's crossed my mind not to return to this physician due to the treatment by his "people."
Will I actually find another doc? Nah, but I wish docs would take their job as boss as seriously as they take their job as physician.
As with all doctors, the prescribing physician has horrible handwriting. The script was written for four refills, but this was the first time I've filled it. The pharmacist couldn't read the doc's handwriting, so called the doc's office. Of course, the doc is out today, so the pharmacist spoke to the nurse. The doc had failed to log his script to me, so the nurse probably thinks I'm trying to pull one over on them. Am I? Jeez – if I wanted to get some drugs, don't you think I'd try to get something psycho active like Darvocet or Zanex? But no... I'm wanting to get some relief in drop form for eye inflammation and the pharmacist, the doc's office, seemingly every person I talk to is eyeing me suspiciously like I'm trying to commit a crime!
This will all be straightened out within the next hour or two (I hope), but the doctor's nurse is really hacking me off. I'm not a criminal, I'm not trying to pull one over on anyone, I just want the eye drops prescribed to me! As if getting screwed for $60 per bottle isn't bad enough, now I'm treated like a criminal.
Docs – your staff is you. It's crossed my mind not to return to this physician due to the treatment by his "people."
Will I actually find another doc? Nah, but I wish docs would take their job as boss as seriously as they take their job as physician.
Marcus is a Wii character?
My buddy, Kyle Kuhlman, just sent me this picture of a guy who, strangely enough, bears a close resemblence to moi! Here's his note that went with it:
Hey Marcus, I just got the Wii and made up a player of myself on the sports program. I put in all the attributes of myself, pulled up the picture and it looks remarkably like you.
So, faithful reader, what do you think? I'm a little disturbed that Wii has turned me into a video game character!
Hey Marcus, I just got the Wii and made up a player of myself on the sports program. I put in all the attributes of myself, pulled up the picture and it looks remarkably like you.
So, faithful reader, what do you think? I'm a little disturbed that Wii has turned me into a video game character!
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Pinellas Area Nurse Educators
Yesterday, I had the privilege of presenting to the Pinellas Area Nurse Educators. The PANE Conference was held in St. Petersburg, FL. These nurses are all employed in either a hospital or educational setting, instructing future R.N.s on ways to be excellent health care providers.
A special thanks goes to Tammy Franqueiro for being such an awesome client!
It was truly an honor to work with such a quality group of nurses who are helping to make the healing processes of patients much, much better!
It was truly an honor to work with such a quality group of nurses who are helping to make the healing processes of patients much, much better!
Monday, June 9, 2008
A Recent Obituary
In my literary life, there have been four phases:
1. When I didn't know how to read (birth to 3 or so)
2. When I loved to read! (3 until, say, 13)
3. When I hated reading and only picked up a book when it was assigned (13-17)
4. When I re-learned some passion for the written word; so much so I began to create my own (17-present)
For the last four or five years of phase #2, I'd often check out books from the public library in Montgomery City (just a hop, skip and a jump from my hometown). On Saturday mornings, you could find me sitting on the floor in the back of the library, flipping through giant picture books of warfare; everything from spears to M-16s in the Vietnam Conflict. In those shelves was where I learned the value of just how much knowledge there is in the world-and that's probably why I want to know EVERYTHING now! The rebellious, slothful teenage years hadn't kicked into full gear, so I was still able to dig books just because, well, I dig books. It wasn't yet cool to NOT like reading (something I hope teens today don't emulate.)
Anyway, there at the Montgomery County Public Library was an elderly librarian named Laura. The things I remember about Laura were 1. she was a heavy, heavy smoker (yes, this was in the days when no one seemed to have a problem with smoking in the library) and 2. she seemed to know EVERYTHING about books! It was Laura who first introduced me to J.R.R. Tolkein and the Lord of the Rings trilogy-some 15 years before the movies made "Hobbitt" a household word!
While at my parents' home last week, my Mom was flipping through the local paper when she came across Laura's obituary. Laura hadn't really crossed my mind in years, but at the news of her passing, I thought back on those Saturday mornings. I also began to remember something Laura taught me without ever even knowing she was sending a lesson along...
Another library employee who worked with Laura was profoundly disabled. I don't think I ever knew this woman's name, and my best guess is that she had a severe case of cerebral palsey. This woman would sit behind Laura's desk in her electric wheelchair, body twisted at what looked like painful angles, jerky, robotic movements to sort books into large metal bins.
What I assume was C.P. had robbed this woman of all but the most sparce of motor functions. She could grip a book, but couldn't sit it down gently. Into the big metal bin the books would go, nearly shaking the windows with the clattering "BANG!" In the years I went to the library, this woman never spoke. Guessing here, but it seemed her disability wouldn't allow her verbal communication, either.
Sitting just a few feet away from Laura, she'd do her tasks of book organizing, books banging all the while. Laura, meanwhile, checked the cards in each of my loans, talked to me about the content of each, asked me about the last books, I'd read, never once paying attention to the ruckus being raised just a step away.
Was she oblivious to the noise? Unlikely. She was, however, comfortable working with this woman and her limitations. At the first loud slam, it would have seemed proper to drop what she was doing, run to the aid of the woman at the rear, check to see if everything was okay. But she didn't. Why? Probably because she knew nothing was wrong, just accepting this woman's disability and the tiny inconveniences that went along with it. She didn't offer help, didn't hover, just let the woman perform her task.
Laura certainly never acted like her co-worker had any sort of cognitive disability. To this day, I don't know if she did or not. My guess is no. She simply lived in a body that had more limitations than almost any other I've ever met. But Laura didn't treat her like she was profoundly disabled-she just let her do her job.
Frankly, Laura's comfort level with a person of this limited ability was disconcerting to my pre-teen self. It was, however, exactly how a person with a disability should be treated: with respect, honor and without making the disability their sole identity. Some of the best lessons are taught by inaction; when a loud crash would happen, Laura wouldn't even look up. I wanted to yell, "What happened?! Is she okay?!" all while pointing toward the figure in the electric wheelchair. But I didn't. Because Laura didn't act like anything was wrong. That made me also think nothing was wrong. Laura would finish her stamping of my books, wish me luck and would turn back to her own novel and overflowing ashtray.
You know, I'm not sure I'd ever thought of this until I heard of Laura's passing, but I have to think her actions (or more specifically, lack thereof) towards individuals with disabilities helped mold my opinions. Never assume that if one's body doesn't work well, that their mind doesn't, too. Don't hover, don't coddle, don't protect-just allow that person to live his/her life and to do their job.
When I became a person with a disability, I knew darned good and well I didn't want to be treated in a way other than the respect Laura showed her co-worker. I hope this memory may remind you, faithful reader, of how to respect and honor the existence of all people, those with disabilities and those without. If there's net access in the hereafter, I hope Laura may read this and rest assured she helped mold the life of one little bookworm many years ago.
1. When I didn't know how to read (birth to 3 or so)
2. When I loved to read! (3 until, say, 13)
3. When I hated reading and only picked up a book when it was assigned (13-17)
4. When I re-learned some passion for the written word; so much so I began to create my own (17-present)
For the last four or five years of phase #2, I'd often check out books from the public library in Montgomery City (just a hop, skip and a jump from my hometown). On Saturday mornings, you could find me sitting on the floor in the back of the library, flipping through giant picture books of warfare; everything from spears to M-16s in the Vietnam Conflict. In those shelves was where I learned the value of just how much knowledge there is in the world-and that's probably why I want to know EVERYTHING now! The rebellious, slothful teenage years hadn't kicked into full gear, so I was still able to dig books just because, well, I dig books. It wasn't yet cool to NOT like reading (something I hope teens today don't emulate.)
Anyway, there at the Montgomery County Public Library was an elderly librarian named Laura. The things I remember about Laura were 1. she was a heavy, heavy smoker (yes, this was in the days when no one seemed to have a problem with smoking in the library) and 2. she seemed to know EVERYTHING about books! It was Laura who first introduced me to J.R.R. Tolkein and the Lord of the Rings trilogy-some 15 years before the movies made "Hobbitt" a household word!
While at my parents' home last week, my Mom was flipping through the local paper when she came across Laura's obituary. Laura hadn't really crossed my mind in years, but at the news of her passing, I thought back on those Saturday mornings. I also began to remember something Laura taught me without ever even knowing she was sending a lesson along...
Another library employee who worked with Laura was profoundly disabled. I don't think I ever knew this woman's name, and my best guess is that she had a severe case of cerebral palsey. This woman would sit behind Laura's desk in her electric wheelchair, body twisted at what looked like painful angles, jerky, robotic movements to sort books into large metal bins.
What I assume was C.P. had robbed this woman of all but the most sparce of motor functions. She could grip a book, but couldn't sit it down gently. Into the big metal bin the books would go, nearly shaking the windows with the clattering "BANG!" In the years I went to the library, this woman never spoke. Guessing here, but it seemed her disability wouldn't allow her verbal communication, either.
Sitting just a few feet away from Laura, she'd do her tasks of book organizing, books banging all the while. Laura, meanwhile, checked the cards in each of my loans, talked to me about the content of each, asked me about the last books, I'd read, never once paying attention to the ruckus being raised just a step away.
Was she oblivious to the noise? Unlikely. She was, however, comfortable working with this woman and her limitations. At the first loud slam, it would have seemed proper to drop what she was doing, run to the aid of the woman at the rear, check to see if everything was okay. But she didn't. Why? Probably because she knew nothing was wrong, just accepting this woman's disability and the tiny inconveniences that went along with it. She didn't offer help, didn't hover, just let the woman perform her task.
Laura certainly never acted like her co-worker had any sort of cognitive disability. To this day, I don't know if she did or not. My guess is no. She simply lived in a body that had more limitations than almost any other I've ever met. But Laura didn't treat her like she was profoundly disabled-she just let her do her job.
Frankly, Laura's comfort level with a person of this limited ability was disconcerting to my pre-teen self. It was, however, exactly how a person with a disability should be treated: with respect, honor and without making the disability their sole identity. Some of the best lessons are taught by inaction; when a loud crash would happen, Laura wouldn't even look up. I wanted to yell, "What happened?! Is she okay?!" all while pointing toward the figure in the electric wheelchair. But I didn't. Because Laura didn't act like anything was wrong. That made me also think nothing was wrong. Laura would finish her stamping of my books, wish me luck and would turn back to her own novel and overflowing ashtray.
You know, I'm not sure I'd ever thought of this until I heard of Laura's passing, but I have to think her actions (or more specifically, lack thereof) towards individuals with disabilities helped mold my opinions. Never assume that if one's body doesn't work well, that their mind doesn't, too. Don't hover, don't coddle, don't protect-just allow that person to live his/her life and to do their job.
When I became a person with a disability, I knew darned good and well I didn't want to be treated in a way other than the respect Laura showed her co-worker. I hope this memory may remind you, faithful reader, of how to respect and honor the existence of all people, those with disabilities and those without. If there's net access in the hereafter, I hope Laura may read this and rest assured she helped mold the life of one little bookworm many years ago.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Missouri Rehab Association
As promised, here are the pics from the MRA conference from earlier this week. It was truly a joy to be with all the MRA folks – again, these are some of the most giving, delightful people I could ever hope to work with! Left to right we have Frank, an assessment guru with A.O. of Springfield (and one of the kindest people you could ever hope to meet), my client, Kim Vaughn, a Voc Rehab counselor, moi, and Joe, an administrator with A.O. of Springfield (and one of the most professional, dedicated individuals I've ever worked with.) Thanks again, MRA, for doing what you do and for welcoming me into your conference! Y'all are a blast!
International Shriners Day!
In honor of the founding of the International Council of Shriners of North America on June 6, 1876, nobles (aka, Shriners) everywhere celebrate International Shrine Day!
Having just become a Shriner within the last few months, I'm proud to be celebrating my first Shrine Day. How does this work? Simple:
Nobles everywhere are to wear their red fez, a Shrine tee-shirt or a Shrine lapel pin-just to show their affiliation with the Shrine. If you've not seen a fez, take a look at that handsome devil in the pic...see that big thing on his head? No, not his nose! That red thing that looks like an inverted narrow bucket? That's the traditional Shriner's fez. Think wearing one of those to Wal-Mart may generate some awareness? If nothing else, it'll definitely show some fashion sense!
Still, what is the Shrine? What do they do? What do they believe? Why do they wear funny hats?
Simply put, the Shrine is a Masonic fraternity body created to have fun with a purpose. The fun results from fraternization, parties, socials, parades, etc., and the purpose remains the same: to support the Shriners Hospitals of North America.
Shriners Hospitals are some of the best medical care one can get for burns and orthopedic issues that confront children. No patient at a Shriners Hospital is ever charged a single penny-this makes the Shrine Hospitals the greatest philanthropy in the world. With a daily operating budget in excess of $2 million, the fun we nobles have is only surpassed by the incredible help given to children in need of intense medical care.
Happy Shrine Day to my fellow nobles!
If you'd like to learn more about the Shrine and the philanthropic work we Shriners do, please view:
www.Shrinenet.com
or my home Shrine's web page at:
www.BahiaShrine.com
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Family Pharmacy Teams With Marcus!
Well, it's finally happened! Ever since the release of my books in the fall of 2006, I've looked for a retailer in my hometown. You'd think this wouldn't be so challenging, but it sure was!
Then, a retailer found me! In March, I was honored to be the key note speaker at the National Honor Society induction at my alma mater, Montgomery County R-2 in Montgomery City, MO.
Attending the induction of their daughter, Ellie, were Jack and Janet Holtman, owners of Family Pharmacy in Montgomery City. Mr. and Mrs. Holtman (and Ellie) purchased my books and passed them along to several others after they read them. As always, I'm humbled and honored when anyone passes my book along with the recommendation, "Hey, you should read this!"
Well, Jack and Janet also decided to inquire about becoming a retailer of "After This..." and "The Other End of The Stethoscope." I, of course, was ecstatic to be able to offer books to readers in my hometown by way of a local retailer!
Family Pharmacy is located on North Sturgeon in Montgomery City, MO. I hope folks from my home area will stop in, say HI to Jack and Janet, and maybe pick up a book while they're at it!
Special thanks to Jack and Janet Holtman for their desire to help me spread my message!
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