When we try to drive a car out of a ditch, we may end up burying it even deeper. This is the simple explanation of my storyI was so keen on redeeming my image and that of my team this time. I had made a shit out of my presentation the previous day, an act that ended our ward rounds and earned us a lot of "read-ups". The crime was simply difficult: I couldn't take a good clinical history (u know how the doctor will 'ask ask' and the patient will 'answer answer' just to arrive at possible diagnoses or identify complications).
By 8am, I was already in the hospital, ran up the stairs to the wards and identified the seemingly happiest patient among those we were managing. That was how I met him. He was having his breakfast and and gisting with the patient on the next bed. "What a perfect time"; I thought as I caught my breath. I obseved him from afar and in few minutes, he was done eating. I didn't hesitate to introduce myself as doctor-in-training, inform his consent and ask for permission to take his Clinical History. Unfortunately, his mood changed, showing his reluctance but when I showed a persisting facial expression, he gave in (indeed iron sharpeneth iron).
Following the order of history taking, I enquired of his name to which he hesitantly gave as Paul John. I noticed his place of origin was close to mine so I spoke his dialect, and with that he became more comfortable as well as more responsive (my heart smiled). I rounded up in the next few minutes, thanked John and proceeded to organise the history before my registerers arrive.
Ward rounds eventually started by 9am. By now other members of my team, house officers and residents had all arrived. After seeing 2 patients, the chief resident asked if any of us clerked. "Yes Ma! I clerked Mr Paul John"; I responded with a broad smile (the type we do when we're fully prepared for an exam). I was cut short her confused look. "Who is Paul?" she asked and I pointed to my newest friend. The words that followed where; "Who told you his name is Paul? You don't even know the name of your patient". As I wondered why a patient would lie about such a sensitive info, it occured to me that there was once a Pope named John Paul. Now I not only feel deceived, but entertained as well
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