Happy New Year, Mami!
There's an op-ed piece in The New York Times today about doctors beginning to make house calls again; after a more than fifty-year hiatus. My mother, Ana Raab Marrero--as was her wont ;-)--was ahead of her time:
I would like you to read the
following. I didn't write it—my mother
did. She was Hungarian: a
European-trained doctor who received her medical degree in Paris in 1940. One of her aunts had become the third woman
doctor in Hungary
(though she never practiced, as she married a wealthy man). My father—also a doctor—enabled her escape out
of Europe in 1941; they proceeded to live in Cuba (my father's homeland) for
the next nineteen years. I was born in
1954. In 1960, we arrived in the United States .
My mother had been a housewife for
twenty-five years when she decided to take the foreign medical exam—the ECFMG,
as it was called—in 1965. We were living
in Georgia
at the time. She passed the first time;
went on-staff at Milledgeville—now, Central—State Hospital; it was there in
1967 that she began her residency in psychiatry. She was 54 years old. When she finished her residency three years
later, she rejoined my father and me in Florida. Two years later, at age 59, a fortuitous set
of circumstances led to her landing a job as a clinical psychiatrist at South
Florida State Hospital, where she practiced until she retired at age
seventy.
My mother was an extraordinary
woman: principled; dauntless; with a
privileged and exquisite mind. She was
also extremely practical. Fascinated
with politics, current events, and with progressive ideas—culling them from all
of her constant and voracious reading—she kept notebooks filled with news
clippings and lists of quotes and sayings.
She was a true product of her generation: “The Greatest Generation.”
During the 1990’s, she shared the
following with me (and I haven't overly-edited: please keep in mind that
English was technically her fifth language!):
"About doctors." Among the many changes the world experienced
through the 20th century, the changes of medical practice are among the most
significant. Physicians used to be
involved with the patients personally--they made home deliveries, home calls,
they even operated on kitchen tables:
simple things like tonsils and appendix.
They often worked pro bono and in my generation who does not remember
the old country doctor who often left a few dollars next to his
prescription. The doctors listened to
the patient and their families and they often smiled at each other. They were generally respected, trusted, and
loved. Nobody ever heard of suing the
doctor and the insurance was not a major issue.
Now everybody is covered by insurance (or else!). The doctor is secluded in his office,
surrounded by assistants, submerged in paperwork and technicians, (who are)
performing procedures and even "examinations." The first thing requested from the patient is
not a list of his complaints, but to fill out forms concerning the type of
their insurance, their SS number, etc.
The P.E. (physical exam) is minimal, technicians and technology replaced
the Hippocratic methods. Errors are more
frequent than when the practice was more personalized and Malpractice--the big
M--often caused by negligence, and sometimes by ignorance is more
prevalent. Accidents and human error
always existed, but we used to remember the saying "Errare humanum est."
Now we think more in terms of suits than philosophical concepts. A special chapter should be dedicated to the
Medical Business proper, directed by the owners of HMO's, Hospitals, etc.,
limiting the physician's humanistic role and his income, but not his
responsibility. And let's face it, in
spite of technicians and technology; in spite of the so-called Medical
Business, Doctors are still needed. Who
else could sign your death certificate?
--Ana
R. Marrero, M.D., 1913-1999
Entering my own fifty-ninth year--when your own (albeit, interrupted) years of medical training bore fruit--I am looking forward to my--possibly--third wind. What a wonderful thought, in light of Diana Nyad's thirty-five-year-old dream to swim across the Florida Straits having finally come true on Labor Day! A Happy New Year, indeed...
