End of day. New patient. Best foot forward! Garner up energy! Pull together The Charm!
I am tired.
Mom with daughter. Cute mom, very engaging, very caring, worried about her adolescent daughter - grades slipping, increased irritability.
There were times I wanted to pat the patient's mother on the back and say, don't worry - you don't know how much you are doing by just being concerned. Your daughter is a teenager. Just be there. Support here. Like you already are doing.
Of course in between my engaging laughter and empathetic nods shared with my new patient, I had flashes - or rather, glimpses - of almost sheer terror - who am I to tell this mother what to do? Guide her on her daughter's adolescent angst? Tell her everything was going to be okay?
Yet I try - and that's all I can do, right, is try? You learn medicine is so cut-and-dry, evidence-based, methodical.... There are guidelines for everything. Yet it's the art of medicine that I am trying to cultivate and trying to allow myself to feel.
Everything is going to be okay.
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