Rural medicine is often more about relationships than diagnoses, which is a hard concept to incentivize. (UIC photo) |
Government officials, public policy writers and community planners would do well to look at what it takes for a resident to opt to live in a rural location. Sharma explains: "Often, it is interminably fraught — already hard work is made harder, significant others are uprooted, and certain city comforts and sensibilities may be sacrificed. Physicians, then, must rely on forces internally summoned — autonomy, altruism, competence — to propel them forward. These qualities are harder to define and measure, which make them difficult to meaningfully pin to any reward."
"When I left the city for work in a rural hospital, I put those virtues to the test. I was unsettled, initially wading through the steady stream of 'hellos,' 'good mornings,' and 'good nights' from passersby in the corridor, and unsure of how to interact with psychiatric patients who ran a cafĂ© near their small ward to ease their transition to the world outside," Sharma writes. "And I was uneasy, at times, with the care we provided — even if patients were appreciative of what they received. The same decisions we fashioned in the city — to get antibiotics delivered at home or to get a surgeon to clear out an abscess — came together with fewer resources, and with doctors stretched hundreds of miles apart."
Rural settings offer a space where all people intermingle and get to know each other. And the closeness of being together while all others are miles away "lent a power to something decidedly tangible. Interactions with patients had an unflinching honesty and tenderness about them," Sharma adds. "One morning, an older man with anxiety was referred from the emergency department to a senior physician. They ran into each other at the grocery store and at local hockey games; living down the street, the physician would often check in on him."
Sharma writes. "A connection to a rural identity could be bought with incentives, or it could be learned. . . . It could be lived through simple and heartfelt things: a teary 'thank you,' a firm handshake, or the question, over and again, from patients of your plans to stay. These gestures don’t absolve the system of its responsibility to make positive reforms. But they affirm value and purpose of work that, whittled down by staffing shortages and burnout, can still impact lives our society willfully neglects."
No comments:
Post a Comment