Making like a Leaf

Recently, I have been growing a lot of green. No, it's not metaphorical. Literally, my front porch is potful of different budding plants. There's something about nurturing life and watching it thrive in time that is just so inspiring. It's really a manifestation of the saying "slow and steady wins the race". From solitary seeds, it seems so simple as they slowly burst from the soil, wobble tall, and spread small budding leaves. I have always liked plants and found them fascinating and bizarre. I suppose the monochromatic drone of daily Step 2 studying really wore me down and demanded some life out of this zombifying regimen. It felt like a reprieve to see something succeeding against the odds of life's challenges despite my own struggles. It's rewarding to see such vibrant green organisms transform from something that was once so small. Although my test is on hold while I take a break doing neurology, these serve as a metaphorical reminder of the reward of perseverance. 

During my first week of neurology, I was excitedly reminded of my infantile knowledge in the vast experience of this field. I am amazed at the subtle observation the residents and physicians catch with their thorough physical examination. I feel like I'm "getting in" on this secret club. Included is bag of subtle tricks that neurologists exercise. Their patience for explanation and mentorship endlessly inspire and excite me. I have loved all the cases and the energy carried by them.

My first normal pressure hydrocephalus (NPH) patient showed me the kindness and connection that a fully fledged neurology exudes. After completing the interview, we needed to complete a walk test. Palms up, the resident bent over and offered his hands to the small woman. Walking backwards, he gently and slowly guided her out of the bed and down the hall, meanwhile explaining and reassuring her of what was going on.  He arranged us to provide the best security of walking, and when the test was done, he patient guided her back himself. In the silence of walking, I could see the calm, confidence, and empathy the resident exuded through the critical thinking. Even in the midst of conducting these numerous tasks of evaluation, he was aware of her distress and her concern. His behavior showed only gentleness and patience. At no point did he rush her even in her stuttering slowness. Never did he seem inpatient or condescending at her shortcomings from focal neurological deficits. He never talked over her as if she were incompetent of understanding (believe me, I've seen this happen a lot on rounds with patients with reduced awareness).

That is the kind of physician I want to become. 

More than just diagnosing and exercising my intellect, I want to be a healer. And care of patients so they feel that they are being entrusted to someone capable but also lean-able. 

Maybe my attempts in nurturing life stems from that. That desire to translate and express my care and patience for fostering life into something tangible. In any case, I have found another hobby to add to my inventory of odd and eclectic pasttimes.