Rule Number Six- The Patient is the Center of the Universe (Not the Opposite)
This post was inspired by a blog pal of mine, Ms. Cindy, who works at a Vet office. She is new to the Vet business, but already understands it in a way some veterans never do. She wrote “I want to help make things better.” That’s it. I am certain she is the kind of human being who be an employee of the month at our place, ’cause she gets it without being told.
In the Doc world, this rule is so simple that I can not understand why anyone would have difficulty with it. Yet, there are some that do. Some folks are in it for money or power or prestige or I don’t know why, but they are the ones I never get along with. I have two trusted nurses who have been with me for decades, and they are there because they want to help make things better. They never base their decisions on anything other than what is best for the patient.
Many years ago I had an employee who wanted us to get a ‘Corporate’ Country Club membership. She felt we needed a marketing type person, and that her face at the club would ‘upgrade’ our public image. As you can imagine, she didn’t last long. I have nothing against anyone at the club, but I don’t want an image. I want to be a Doctor, and hope folks will trust me enough to give me the honor to serve. She was in the gig to look important, not to help make things better.
She sells lingerie now, and there’s nothing worn with that either, but her concept of the Doc gig just didn’t jive with mine. As Larry Cordle would say, “I’m a little rough around the edges,” and the young lady just didn’t get what I wanted our little Doc office to be about.
So, sorry to preach but what it is about is the patient. One time we had an open house. The band was scheduled to play and we were gonna have some chickens on the grill. One of my patients asked, “Doc, is it O.K if I come?”
“O.K.? Lordy, George it’s your party, not mine. If we have an open house and it ain’t for the patients we might as well all go home, ’cause we’ve forgotten what we’re here for.”
The image of George munching on a chicken leg and tapping his toes to bluegrass is a permanent one on my brain. We can’t forget what we came to the party for, and must forever remember to dance with who brung us.
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