Resident devotional day 6: Patience

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Ephesians 4:2 NIV

I remember when I was a fourth-year medical student on a minimally invasive surgery rotation. The surgery was closing, and I knew I was going to have to suture up the patient’s skin. I had become relatively good at suturing skin during my third year, but for some reason, during this fourth-year rotation, I was struggling more than normal, and I had definitely had my share of embarrassing moments. I reluctantly scrubbed in and grabbed my tools to suture, and unfortunately, I messed up the first time again. Almost as a reflex, I looked up at my senior, a fifth-year surgery chief, expecting a scolding or perhaps a takeover. But she did none of those things — she barely spoke, actually. She gave me two words: “try again”. And she watched quietly as I did just that. 

I think I succeeded on my second or third attempt — I don’t quite remember. What I do remember most is that senior’s patience, and how safe it made me feel.

In medicine, there is always a lot of work to do. A lot of patients to see. A lot of OR cases to get through. A lot of orders to put in. The temptation is always there to rush, to not waste a moment, to be fast. The quicker you get through interviewing this patient, the faster you can get to the next patient. The faster you can operate as a surgeon or wake the patient up as an anesthesiologist, the more cases you can do, the more patients you can treat, and the more profit you can make (in private hospital settings). Efficiency is the name of the game, and it is an important skill to develop.

Dare I say, though, that even in the midst of a fast-moving, efficient medical culture, that you can always take at least one moment to be patient?

It takes maybe a couple of minutes to give the medical student another chance to suture the skin a second time without stepping in or scolding them. Maybe about 30 seconds to read over your note and check for errors before submitting it to the record. A minute or two to answer an extra question a patient might have and to make them feel seen and heard. Even during a code, which is the most emergent of situations, there is always an extra couple seconds to assign clear roles — the leader, the chest-compressor, the defibrillator-handler — and to make sure those roles are well-understood. (Don’t believe me? Read any verified source on how to run a code!) 

A little bit of patience goes a long way. At the very least, it helps your coworkers and your patients to trust you more. At most, it can help you save a life.

A little bit of patience goes a long way.

Simi Akintorin