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Letter I would kill to send
Apr. 3rd, 2004 12:46 amDear Dr Registrar,
The following is some background information and general Ghost-of-Oncology-Patients-Yet-To-Come haunting regarding Mrs Patient, who was seen in Dr Consultant's clinic last month.
When Mrs Patient attended clinic, Dr Consultant recommended palliative chemotherapy. Mrs Patient was unsure as to whether this would be advantageous to her, and went away to consider her options. Some days after the clinic, Mrs PatientsDaughter rang my office to inform me that Mrs Patient opted for chemotherapy. Unfortunately, there was still a delay in getting this decision processed, due to the ineptitude of the path lab and partly due to the extreme distractedness of Dr Consultant, who's a wonder in clinic but won't stay still for more than three seconds at a time out of it. (Then again, this should surprise no one given the number of cups of coffee he asks for in the course of a day, but I digress.)
However, you received a note from me approximately two weeks ago, asking you to refer this patient for chemotherapy. This, I believe, is your job. I simplified matters as much as possible by including a copy of the letter that was sent to Dr ReferringDoctor and the patient notes, which you know are worth their weight in platinum in this place, given that medical records could not so much as locate their own buttocks with both hands and a torch. When you did not come back to me one way or the other, I came to the logical conclusion that you had gone away to do your job.
I received a phone call from Mrs PatientsDaughter this afternoon, informing me that Mrs Patient has still not received any word on when her chemotherapy is forthcoming. While the path lab delay was annoying and Dr Consultant's delay was frankly a little silly, your delay is inexcusable. As you are the one currently in possession of Mrs Patient's notes, you will be aware that Mrs Patient's prognosis gives her three or four months to live without palliative chemotherapy and one of them has been eaten up already, partly due to your apathy.
I must inform you, Dr Registrar, that you cannot afford the luxury of procrastination in your line of work. May I remind you that you are an oncologist, which means a doctor specialising in cancer. If you find yourself incapable of dealing with life-or-death situations as matters of urgency, I would suggest you take up another profession -- podiatrist, cosmetic surgeon, or perhaps mortician. The simple fact of the matter is that, to use the vernacular, you cannot fuck around with people's lives on the line.
When I interrupted your lunch to discuss this with you (an action which, by the way, prompts no feelings of remorse whatsoever), you actually knew the patient by name. This suggests that your failure to deal with this patient is due to simple idleness rather than absent-mindedness. To inform me that you will come to collect the information on this patient in the afternoon -- and then fail to do so -- gives me no comfort that anything will be resolved to the patient's satisfaction. This is the second time this week that you have failed to honour a promise to expedite matters with regards to a cancer patient. This is why I have given Mrs PatientsDaughter your mobile phone number. Perhaps a reminder of the fact that these are people rather than folders full of paper you are dealing with will refresh your work ethic.
If you choose to lodge a complaint with my supervisors about the fact that I gave your contact details to a patient, I will maintain this stance, informing my supervisors that I had to do everything I could think of to resolve this issue to Mrs Patient's satisfaction and that doing so was a last resort. Frankly, Dr Registrar, I think the actions of a humble secretary whose sole aim was to improve Mrs Patient's situation will be looked upon with more charity than those of a lazy registrar who has failed to refer a dying woman for palliative care after two weeks.
Finally, Dr Registrar, consider this a warning. Things are going to change. I was a PA in a government office, Doctor, and I have temped in a lot of hospitals over the years. I've seen worse than you for disorganisation, lack of priorities and outright laziness. The day I can't ride herd on some lowly registrar is the day they wind me in my shroud. In summary, you are going to do your job if I have to sweat blood to make it happen.
Regards,
One frustrated PA
Oncology Dept, SomeLondon Hospital
The following is some background information and general Ghost-of-Oncology-Patients-Yet-To-Come haunting regarding Mrs Patient, who was seen in Dr Consultant's clinic last month.
When Mrs Patient attended clinic, Dr Consultant recommended palliative chemotherapy. Mrs Patient was unsure as to whether this would be advantageous to her, and went away to consider her options. Some days after the clinic, Mrs PatientsDaughter rang my office to inform me that Mrs Patient opted for chemotherapy. Unfortunately, there was still a delay in getting this decision processed, due to the ineptitude of the path lab and partly due to the extreme distractedness of Dr Consultant, who's a wonder in clinic but won't stay still for more than three seconds at a time out of it. (Then again, this should surprise no one given the number of cups of coffee he asks for in the course of a day, but I digress.)
However, you received a note from me approximately two weeks ago, asking you to refer this patient for chemotherapy. This, I believe, is your job. I simplified matters as much as possible by including a copy of the letter that was sent to Dr ReferringDoctor and the patient notes, which you know are worth their weight in platinum in this place, given that medical records could not so much as locate their own buttocks with both hands and a torch. When you did not come back to me one way or the other, I came to the logical conclusion that you had gone away to do your job.
I received a phone call from Mrs PatientsDaughter this afternoon, informing me that Mrs Patient has still not received any word on when her chemotherapy is forthcoming. While the path lab delay was annoying and Dr Consultant's delay was frankly a little silly, your delay is inexcusable. As you are the one currently in possession of Mrs Patient's notes, you will be aware that Mrs Patient's prognosis gives her three or four months to live without palliative chemotherapy and one of them has been eaten up already, partly due to your apathy.
I must inform you, Dr Registrar, that you cannot afford the luxury of procrastination in your line of work. May I remind you that you are an oncologist, which means a doctor specialising in cancer. If you find yourself incapable of dealing with life-or-death situations as matters of urgency, I would suggest you take up another profession -- podiatrist, cosmetic surgeon, or perhaps mortician. The simple fact of the matter is that, to use the vernacular, you cannot fuck around with people's lives on the line.
When I interrupted your lunch to discuss this with you (an action which, by the way, prompts no feelings of remorse whatsoever), you actually knew the patient by name. This suggests that your failure to deal with this patient is due to simple idleness rather than absent-mindedness. To inform me that you will come to collect the information on this patient in the afternoon -- and then fail to do so -- gives me no comfort that anything will be resolved to the patient's satisfaction. This is the second time this week that you have failed to honour a promise to expedite matters with regards to a cancer patient. This is why I have given Mrs PatientsDaughter your mobile phone number. Perhaps a reminder of the fact that these are people rather than folders full of paper you are dealing with will refresh your work ethic.
If you choose to lodge a complaint with my supervisors about the fact that I gave your contact details to a patient, I will maintain this stance, informing my supervisors that I had to do everything I could think of to resolve this issue to Mrs Patient's satisfaction and that doing so was a last resort. Frankly, Dr Registrar, I think the actions of a humble secretary whose sole aim was to improve Mrs Patient's situation will be looked upon with more charity than those of a lazy registrar who has failed to refer a dying woman for palliative care after two weeks.
Finally, Dr Registrar, consider this a warning. Things are going to change. I was a PA in a government office, Doctor, and I have temped in a lot of hospitals over the years. I've seen worse than you for disorganisation, lack of priorities and outright laziness. The day I can't ride herd on some lowly registrar is the day they wind me in my shroud. In summary, you are going to do your job if I have to sweat blood to make it happen.
Regards,
One frustrated PA
Oncology Dept, SomeLondon Hospital
