“Military Medicine” would be grossly incomplete without a physician’s input, particularly one who spends so much time with veterans. I asked Eric Young, MD, a hospitalist at the Denver Veterans Administration (VA), for his perspectives on service, medicine, their intersection and the greatest opportunities for medical students.
The Veterans Administration (VA) is as indelible and resilient as the patients it serves. The service has changed, succeeded beyond belief and otherwise trudged along to the present. As a preclinical medical student, one hears all kinds of things about “this one VA patient,” without any context, and it piques curiosity.
In honor of Veterans Day, the in-Training staff would like to dedicate a few pieces in “Military Medicine” to the Veterans Administration (VA), an institution entrusted with serving those who served us. This article is a primer, perhaps more correctly a gross oversimplification, of the history of veterans’ health care in the United States.
Dr. Alison Holmes, pediatric hospitalist at Dartmouth-Hitchcock, did not expect to work in perinatal addiction. “I had no interest in addiction,” Dr. Holmes admits.
In 2006, Daisy Goodman first experienced a patient disclosing a narcotics addiction. A certified nurse midwife working in obstetrics, Goodman had had years of experience working with pregnant mothers to cultivate a healthy pregnancy and birth.
“Telestroke,” a telemedicine approach to acute stroke care, is revolutionizing how we treat our country’s third leading cause of death. Leveraging modern communication technology and the combined experience of skilled neurologists, Telestroke aims to benefit patients in rural areas who are often at the highest risk of ischemic stroke but have the least access to treatment.
His fiancée calls him “The Storyteller.” We sit down outside a cafe during a warm August evening. Still clad in his hospital scrubs, he just finished a shift as a pulmonary/critical care fellow at Rhode Island Hospital.
Where the consciousness floats into the medicine / Where the sacred meets the metal / Where the steel cuts the energy field
Dr. Pablo Rodriguez, an OB/GYN, doesn’t have a typical office. Inside are rows of hanging plaques and accolades, a photo of him with former President Bill Clinton, and a set of microphones, connected to a radio broadcasting system. A sign that says “Latino Public Radio” hangs above on the back wall.
It’s 1 a.m., everyone’s running on three cups of coffee / When a man stumbles through the entrance / And I could hear whispers of / It’s him, the homeless man, back in the ER again
The first thing she noticed, / Was her heart fluttering off and on, / The doctor saw her pale, / And iron pills were called upon.
“From now on,” our deans told us at orientation, “society will see you as a doctor. Sometimes you may not feel like one, but that is what you are becoming. This week marks the beginning of that transition, which will continue in the months and years to come.”