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- <text id=91TT2847>
- <title>
- Dec. 23, 1991: A Lesson in Compassion
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1991
- Dec. 23, 1991 Gorbachev:A Man Without A Country
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- MEDICINE, Page 53
- A Lesson in Compassion
- </hdr><body>
- <p>What's it like to be a patient? For more and more aspiring
- doctors, there's only one way to find out.
- </p>
- <p>By Anastasia Toufexis
- </p>
- <p> Ellen Weiss can hardly see. David Schmitt can barely
- hear. Together, the elderly woman, who suffers from diabetes,
- congestive heart failure and arthritis, and the widower, who is
- recovering from a hip fracture, slowly shift through the halls
- of Hunterdon Medical Center in Flemington, N.J. Typical victims
- of aging's cruelest blows? Not really. Weiss is actually a
- resident in family practice, age 30, and Schmitt a medical
- student, 26. They have been assigned roles, ages and infirmities
- as an innovative part of their medical training.
- </p>
- <p> Introduced in only a few medical centers so far, such role
- playing is designed to expose doctors to the anguish endured by
- the infirm. It is just one of several techniques being tried at
- U.S. medical schools and hospitals in an attempt to deal with
- the most universal complaint about doctors: lack of compassion.
- "Residents are usually young, healthy, privileged," says Dr.
- Stephen Brunton of Long Beach Memorial Medical Center in Long
- Beach, Calif. "They've not really had a chance to understand
- what patients go though."
- </p>
- <p> Role-playing programs give them a crash course. At
- Hunterdon, students' faces are instantly aged with cornstarch
- and makeup. Next the disabilities are laid on: yellow goggles
- smeared with Vaseline distort vision, wax plugs dampen hearing,
- gloves and splints cripple fingers, and peas inside shoes impair
- walking. Then the ersatz invalids are asked to perform common
- tasks: purchasing medication at the pharmacy, undressing for X
- rays, filling out a Medicare form and, most humiliating, using
- the bathroom.
- </p>
- <p> At Long Beach, new residents in family practice assume
- fabricated maladies and check into the hospital for an overnight
- stay--incognito. The staff treats them as they would any other
- patient, even sending them a bill. The entire entering class of
- medical students at the Uniformed Services University of the
- Health Sciences in Bethesda, Md., are issued bedpans and told
- to use them. They spend part of the first day of school as
- hobbled patients. A few male students are even subjected to an
- indignity familiar to women: waiting in the stirrups for a
- doctor to arrive.
- </p>
- <p> Instant patients start out peppy and joking. "But by the
- end of a few hours, most say, `I'm exhausted,' " observes nurse
- Linda Bryant at Hunterdon. Schmitt discovered that "a major
- accomplishment was doing up my collar." And, to his surprise, "I
- wound up resenting physicians who didn't realize how much
- medication would cost and how hard it was to go and pick it up."
- Weiss also had an epiphany: "I realized how little I talk to
- patients. I might ask them about chest pains but not `Can you
- get dressed, eat O.K., take your medicine?' " At Long Beach,
- Jeffrey Ortiz thought he was in for a quiet rest when he was
- sent to the intensive care unit, suffering from "chest pains."
- Instead he spent a sleepless night: "People were coming in to do
- labs, the man in the next bed was groaning, and the heart
- monitor was bleeping. It was noisy and scary."
- </p>
- <p> Any patient could have told him so, but many educators
- believe the direct experience of such miseries will leave an
- enduring sense of sympathy. Doctors have long defended taking
- a cool, dispassionate approach to patient care, arguing that it
- helps preserve objective judgment and protect against burnout.
- But critics disagree. "By concentrating on symptoms and lab
- data, we ignore a wealth of information that can affect
- patients' well-being," observes Dr. Simon Auster at the
- Uniformed Services medical school. Moreover, he says, "it takes
- less energy to get close to a patient than to maintain a
- distance." Auster warns, however, that caring should not be
- confused with wallowing in soppy feelings with patients or
- adopting an appealing bedside manner. "That's superficial
- charm," he declares, as opposed to the more difficult task of
- grappling with the painful emotional issues in medicine.
- </p>
- <p> To lure more caring individuals to the field, schools are
- seeking older students as well as non-science majors. Reformers
- are also revising the curriculum to place more emphasis on how
- to relate to patients. Some schools have engaged actors to
- portray patients--some of them ornery or withdrawn--whom
- students must then interview and counsel. At Duke University's
- medical school in North Carolina, Melanie Wellington had a tough
- time with "Tom Brown," a black man in his 50s, whose dietary
- habits were contributing to high blood pressure. "Brown" said
- he didn't want to be treated with drugs because medication had
- ruined his brother's sex life. Says Wellington: "The biggest
- problem was my own discomfort," particularly when it came to
- asking him about his sexual history and possible drug abuse,
- which drew hostile responses. "Now I preface my interviews with,
- `These are questions we ask everyone. We need the answers to
- take the best care of you.'"
- </p>
- <p> Such educational experiments are not a panacea, but
- already they are yielding some symptomatic relief for patients.
- At Long Beach, the residents' experiences as patients-for-a-day
- have prompted administrators to accelerate the hospital's
- admissions process: it now takes 15 minutes or less. Other
- results are harder to measure but just as significant. Robert
- Stambaugh admits that he felt "self-conscious and silly" during
- his brief stint impersonating a patient at Uniformed Services.
- But two years later, he drew on the experience to summon up
- sympathy for an obstreperous patient whose brain had been
- injured in a car accident. "He'd throw bedpans, pull out
- catheters and verbally abuse everyone," Stambaugh recalls. As
- the student doctor who had to repeatedly replace the catheters,
- he was tempted to blow his own top. "On reflection, though,''
- he says, "I recognized that the patient was scared to death,
- confused and had lost a great deal of his dignity. That was what
- made me able to deal with him."
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
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