Ms. M

There are moments in medicine that are truly humbling and today I had one of those moments. I was shadowing an attending in an outpatient ophthalmology clinic and one of the patients we saw was a 62-year-old woman in a wheelchair. By the time we got to her, the medical assistant had already placed her in the exam chair and her daughter was casually sitting in the wheelchair. At first, Ms. M was cheerful, stating that she is doing well but would like to see some improvement in her eyesight. I, being the naïve medical student, was hopeful…. hopeful until the doctor examined her eyes. He didn’t say anything and Ms. M filled the silence by telling us how she had a stroke a few weeks ago in California, how she lost motor capabilities in her left arm, and how it all happened during what was suppose to be a easy stent placement. A thrombotic emboli broke off and lodged in her brain and the next thing she knew, she can no longer walk, and can only barely make out outlines of people she sees right in front of her. The physician continued to remain silent and I knew this was not good. After he had typed up his notes, after I had peered over his shoulder to see what he wrote, he quietly told her that there was nothing we can do. We cannot restore her vision. We cannot improve her eyesight. And I watched the devastation sweep over her face. It is unfathomable to me how we could lose everything in a single instant and I really felt for her. Sometimes, I forget that no matter how hard I work, how much I learn, a life can still be devastated so easily.