Take Care of Her Like She's Your Mom

One day while I was covering OB during my residency, a friend of mine entered the ward in labor. She saw me, and said, "Hey, would you place my epidural?" I said yes, but later asked my attending to do it. I thought, "What if something goes wrong? What if I can't get it in? What if she is in pain? How would I be able to face her? It would change my relationship with her." From that point on, I had decided that I wouldn't have any patients that were my friends.

This week, my rule was tested. Since I am in a new job, I don't feel comfortable making schedule changes. This would have unravelled an intricate web of scheduling that had already been set in motion that morning. I chose not to back out of this case, and chose to face my fear. I took care of a friend's mom. I had seen the patient's name on the schedule, and thought, "Surely it couldn't be the same person. How many Jane Does could there possibly be?" I looked at the address on the electronic chart, and saw a different address than the one I had so frequently visited way back when. I thought, "Whew." But as I walked into the "Pre-Op" area, where the patients are picked up by the nurses, who then bring them back to the operating room, I saw her. And I had no doubt it was her (apprently she moved). She had the same face as her child, the same eyes, the same slope of the nose, the same coloring. Except today, her brow was tense, her lips pursed. She was scared. I approached her, smiled, and greeted her in a very soothing voice. She looked at me with recognition, but didn't say anything except in response to my medical questions. We did not talk at length about her child, my friend. After all, today was about her. Her health and well being were my priority at that moment. And she was scared, so part of my job was to reassure her that I would take good care of her. So I did.

I like to think that I take care of each patient as if he or she were my own loved one. This week, I was actually faced with knowing the person I was anesthetizing. Not only was she someone's loved one; she was a someone-whom-I've-been-close-to's-loved-one. I had never been faced with this responsibility until then; and I was d*mn scared. My heart raced. My voice was high pitched. My palms were sweaty. I trembled. But I thought, "Hey, Map, snap out of it. You've done this thousands of times. Just do your job and take care of your patient." So I calmed down. Finally.


My patient did well. After she awoke, we were able to talk about our connection, her child, what her child is up to, and what I am up to. She did great, felt great in the recovery room. And so did I. I hit a milestone in my career, having overcome a fear of taking care of patients familiar to me.

After talking to other anesthesiologists, I have found that others differ in their opinions regarding having friends as patients. We all wonder how patients feel about having friends anesthetize them. Certainly, many patients place special requests, and ask for specific anesthesiologists to take care of them. Some patients refuse to be treated by certain anesthesiologists. Some anesthesiologists agree to be called in to place an epidural when a friend goes into labor, while others give excuses to not be available, or just flat out refuse. Some find that taking care of friends or their loved ones solidifies their relationships, whereas others are concerned with lines between personal and professional realms being blurred.

While some people refuse to do special requests, others view it as an honor to be asked and relish the responsibility. Me? I have trained a long time to do my job. I enjoy my job, and take it very seriously. I treat all my patients with the utmost care, as if they are my loved one anyway. Why should I treat anyone else differently?