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FRIENDLY CHAT Meeting with the patient's family after surgery in the waiting room is always a fun sociological exercise.The waiting room is a cross-section of family life. I just wish I had more slices of The Waltons instead of Modern Family. Still, I always marvel at the variety of personality styles I encounter in the waiting room.
The Angry Divorce Couple. The patient's mom and dad sit across the room from each other and never make eye contact. The negative energy is palpable. Dad is accompanied by his new girlfriend, who conveniently avoids all interaction with mom. I relay the details of surgery to both parents and Mom quickly retorts, "Don't forget to tell him everything." Well, I thought I just did. Call security!
The Nervous Nellies. This family makes coffee nervous. They've been calling the OR nurses every 10 minutes for a status report on Johnny's surgery. Never mind that the procedure was merely a cast application! I finish my conversation by informing the family of the prescriptions — one for pain for their child, and the other for Xanax … for them.
The Parents in Absentia. These folks are so laid back they have to be resuscitated in the waiting room. I try to tell them about their daughter's surgery, but their eyes are glued to the Jerry Springer show. After numerous attempts to gain their attention, I decide to return at the next TV commercial break.
The Loner. Some poor souls have no family. Their neighbor was kind enough to bring them in and take them home. When I tell the details of surgery to the "friend," he's quick to add that he really doesn't know my patient well and that he does appear "strange" at times. He also mentions that my patient has no real friends, is seldom seen in public and that the houselights are rarely on. Oh my goodness, I think I just operated on a member of the Addams family! Call security … again.
HANDS OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION
Who's Your Dr. Hodad?
When Marty Makary, MD, was a student making the rounds at one of Harvard Medical School's affiliated teaching hospitals, a member of his resident team kept referring to a well-known surgeon on staff as "Dr. Hodad."
"Dr. Hodad?" Dr. Makary, now a surgeon at prestigious Johns Hopkins, remembers asking.
"Yes," said the resident. "Hands of Death and Destruction."
Dr. Makary tells the tale of Dr. Hodad working in thousands of ORs across the country in his book, "Unaccountable: What Hospitals Won't Tell You and How Transparency Can Revolutionize Health Care."
"Every hospital has a doctor that was locally referred to as Hodad [in] the places that I rotated through," says Dr. Makary. Even scarier: Nobody ever tells patients about Dr. Hodad's incompetence, he says.
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