UNCATEGORIZED
I have, over the last several years, written a number of blogs on this website. Their topics have been quite mixed, ranging from the pertinent clinical subjects to slightly more controversial ones, in which I opined on various legal and governmental policies that impacted our health care system.
This will be my last blog, as I will be retiring from the practice of medicine on September 30, 2016. I am still trying to completely grasp the implications of packing up my stuff and walking away from my Foundry family, my patients, and a work lifestyle with which I have lived for over 35 years. This is the most difficult blog of all.
I received my MD degree in 1979 from the University of Vermont, Yep, do the math. It was quite a while ago. I have, over the last thirty-seven years, learned, grown professionally, and have cemented friendships and relationships with patients and other health care providers. My professional evolution has allowed me to practice in a variety of venues. The adventure began during my Residency training at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center in New Hampshire. I was exposed to surgical practice in an academic environment. I also met my wife at the VA hospital in White River Junction, Vermont during this period. Who says nice things don’t happen at VA Hospitals?
I transitioned to the United States Navy for several years. Our military experience allowed us to live overseas in Spain for several years, and then back to the US in Southern California at Camp Pendleton. I continued to grow professionally and was exposed to a variety of clinical challenges that one does not come across in the civilian world.
Next stop was back to Rhode Island where I worked for an HMO called Rhode Island Group Health Association, commonly remembered by us old-timers as RIGHA. This organization morphed into Harvard Pilgrim Health Plan before it went belly up at the stroke of midnight on December 31, 1999. While everyone else was worried about Y2K computer issues, 1500 former HPHC employees, including yours truly, were scrambling around trying to find new jobs.
That brings us to private practice. This was a brand new learning experience as I was now running a business for the first time in my life. A few of us started out in Pawtucket, then moved to our current location at Foundry. Our practice has grown and thrived over the years. We have added providers and employees, and continue to face the clinical, financial and social challenges put before us.
During each of these phases of my life and my practice, I have met various individuals, patients and providers alike, who I now count as friends. I have learned much from all of those folks, and have had the privilege of taking care of many great people. I have listened to their stories about their respective life circumstances; I have been privy to their fears; I have celebrated with them. I have grieved with them.
Another cool thing about this job has been the opportunity to teach. That begins with patient education. I have always made a concerted effort to make sure that my patients understand what is happening to them. Here is the problem, here are possible solutions, these are the implications on lifestyle, etc. The teaching opportunities have also included High School kids shadowing in the office, trying to figure out if a health care job might fit in with their future plans. We have had college students doing the same thing. At Foundry Orthopedics, we continue to help educate Medical Students and Residents (young doctors in training) regularly. These younger folks ask good questions and are eager to learn.
There have been a few frustrations along the way. I will not elaborate other than to say that the changing climate for those of us who render patient care is constantly problematic. Our health care system is evolving, and is being controlled by politicians and bureaucrats. They seem to enjoy generating paperwork for clinicians, perhaps to help justify their own existence. I will not miss this part of medical practice.
I will, however, miss my patients and my inclusion in their lives. I will miss their trust.
I will miss a multitude of healthcare providers who I deem friends. They include nurses at the hospitals, surgical techs who help out in the operating room, people in the Emergency Room, folks who work in various locations that allow hospitals to function: Housekeeping, Supply, Secretaries, and Transportation.
I will especially miss my Foundry Family. They have been my daily support system. I simply would not have been able to function without them.
Overall, I am quite pleased with the way things have turned out. As I start this new chapter, I know that my patients will continue to be well cared for by my Foundry staff and my partners, all of them dear friends.
I should be accustomed to change. While in the Navy, I (we) would be sent to new duty stations. We would pack up our things, say goodbye to friends, move to the new place, find somewhere to live, check in, resume the job, make new friends, get new orders, check out and repeat the whole process again.
Somehow, it all works out, but it sure as hell doesn’t get any easier.
“Fair winds and following seas” to one and all.
