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FROM THE CHIEF MEDICAL EDITOR

A Remedy for the Winter of Our Discontent

Larry E. Patterson, MD

From time to time, we all get a little whiny. I know I do. We lament and moan and groan about the state of medicine, government intervention, healthcare reform, regulations, cost shifting, increasing overhead, malpractice concerns and plenty more. I just returned from a meeting in Washington with leaders of nearly all the major ophthalmic organizations to discuss many of these issues and to formulate our response collectively as ophthalmologists. It was a sobering experience. Now is the winter of our discontent, as Richard the Third said.

I don't mean to trivialize these and other problems. We need to take these threats seriously, and should all play an active role in ensuring the future health of our patients and our practices. But every so often we need to take a step back and look at things from a different perspective.

In his best-seller of the same name, journalist Tom Brokaw coined the phrase The Greatest Generation to describe the people who grew up in the US during the Great Depression. After a childhood spent in poverty, or nearly so — with nothing resembling the creature comforts we enjoy today — millions went on to fight in World War II, and millions more supported them on the home front, with productivity and self-sacrifice that made a decisive material contribution to the war effort. In his book, Brokaw said, “It is, I believe, the greatest generation any society has ever produced.”

We are still seeing these heros in our offices as patients, although fewer each year. Here's a short excerpt from one of my patient's lives, recounted to and recorded by one of my technicians recently.

Our patient was in the Marines and part of the first wave of soldiers attacking on Iwo Jima in WWII. He transported soldiers from the ship to land, removed wounded from the island and returned to the ship to pick up more soldiers. One night they couldn't board their ship from their transport boat, so a group of them floated in the water. They spread apart a bit and, in the darkness, a destroyer came right up and behind them he didn't even know it was there. The destroyer fired its huge guns right over his head. All of the men in the boat received serious concussions and bled from their ears and noses. They couldn't hear anything for days.

This is how the patient lost his hearing. He was once asked, “Why didn't you see the doctor then?” and he replied, “I was carrying one man after another in my arms that had their legs blown off, were severely wounded or dead. My hearing was the least of my concerns.” Then he kind of smirked as if to say, “It's only my hearing.”

I know I can't begin to imagine my response if placed in a similar situation. But I do know I have a tremendous love and respect for these men and women, that greatest generation. Next time you get all self-absorbed in your own problems, make time to listen to some of their stories. You'll feel better. And do it soon. We don't have much time left.