Where credit is due

I've kinda always known I would do internal medicine. Yes, I'm a rheumatologist now, but medicine is my first love. And a thankless, fickle lover she makes. I had my first glimpse of just how thankless during my fourth year of med school. I was rotating with the pulmonology consultant to the CVICU (where the surgeons ship their post-op valve replacements and CABGs [coronary artery bypass graft], etc). The patients came out of the OR in horrible shape. I mean, you don't wind up needing a triple bypass from eating right and exercising every day of your life. These guys had poor protoplasm, and the surgeries were brutal. Brutal.
My attending spent days weaning the vent, managing the sepsis, dealing with the inevitable kidney failure. Days later, after the sedation was lifted and the tube out, you know what the patients told their families?

Oh, Dr. Surgeon saved my life. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him.

And I thought... Huh? What about Dr. Medicine? He saved your life! Dr. Surgeon cracked all your ribs, ripped open your chest, and cut open your heart! That should have effectively killed you, except for the fact that Dr. Medicine swooped in and saved the day.

But the patients never saw it that way, and they never will. Sigh. We don't get no respect from nobody.

Here's to you, Dr. Medicine. Cheers.