Blanquita en españa

After 4 weeks of shadowing, I finally got the chance to fly solo. Patient history was needed from room 5 and I was instructed to “go do it.” I was so eager to put everything I had learned into practice. I felt like it was a little out of nowhere for the doctors to let me do something on my own, as if they were up to something. As I left the nurses station all the doctors were looking at me with smirks slapped on their faces.

I walked into the room where there was an older lady sitting on the gurney with her feet dangling off to the side. It appeared as if she had gotten dressed in the dark. She sported bright green pants, a button up checker blouse, (the buttons fastened in the wrong hole) and a burlap brown jacket decorated with cat broaches. Her hair was teased so high, I was expecting one of her 20 cats to pounce out at any moment. She was Tammy Faye’s make-up doppelganger, with a lazy eye. I started confidently with, “So why are you here today?” Before I could finish my sentence she blurted out, “Why are you smiling at me! Do you think its funny that I'm here again? Stop that you little brat!” When she spoke, it sounded like a drunken parrot, squawking out orders. It was obvious that she had a mental illness.

It was not her illness that caused me to chuckle, but her form of self-expression. You have to imagine her looking at you, with her head slightly cocked so her good eye can see you, mixed with her tourettes-like form of speech. As she slurred out a list of fake problems, I fought back laughter. I struggled to not to smile, but occasionally a little sneer would escape here and there. After 10 minutes with the cat lady I knew that I had fallen into a trap, I had been hazed!
I finally made it out of the room and back to the nurse’s station. All the doctors were holding back their laughter; I was the entertainment of the day. They later told me this lady comes in once a week with the same problems and they just couldn’t resist setting me up. In any group the new guy is always put through some sort of hazing. With 2 weeks left in my internship, I finally feel like part of the group.

Besides learning hospital vocabulary in Spanish, my time spent in the emergency department has opened my eyes to a lot of things. Every patient and opportunity with the doctors has given me more insight into the medical field. Shadowing the doctors from room to room, being taught first hand how to read an EKG, how to properly set a wrist fracture, or having to tell someone their cancer has returned, has set the mold for the doctor I want to be. After dealing with difficult situations in the hospital, viewing patients as a numbers, and not human beings became my coping mechanism. It is a lot easier to tell give someone bad news if you can think of them as just a number. I was able to take a step back and understand the importance of patient care. This experience has helped me to reflect on what I need to improve to develop into a better doctor.

On of the biggest differences between hospitals in Spain and in the U.S. is where the money is spent. The cultural principles in Spain of enjoying life and knowing how to prioritize are carried into the hospitals. When you enter most hospitals in Spain, you see a waiting room of patients and doctors who are rested and working to the best of their ability. When you enter the majority of hospitals in the U.S. you see a beautiful water fountain with a solid granite back drop, a grand piano for no one to play, the newest more expensive furniture in the waiting room that will need to be replaced in 2 weeks, and of course a Starbucks. You almost have to do a double take to make sure you are walking into a hospital and not a day spa.

The point is, hospitals are places for people to receive treatment. Think about the last time you had to go to the emergency room. Do you remember the chairs in the waiting room and the tread count of the sheets on the stretcher, or do you remember the treatment you received? The money in Spain’s heath care system is put towards healthcare. This seems to be an idea that the U.S. cannot fully understand. The next time I walk into a hospital in the U.S., and see the all the unnecessary spending, it will be hard not to picture how my lives that money could have saved, or how many people it could have cured.