When the doctor becomes the patient

An interview with an emergency medicine resident who shares her experience after undergoing a heart transplant

Today I had the opportunity to interview Alin (pronounced uh-leen). Up until a few months ago she was your typical emergency medicine resident in her final year of residency and had been accepted to a critical care fellowship in New York. Then she was diagnosed with viral myocarditis with a suspected underlying inherited dilated cardiomyopathy and has since undergone a successful heart transplant all before the age of 31, a birthday she recently celebrated. Since her heart transplant she has become an active advocate for organ transplantation.


Before we begin I want to express my humble admiration for you. You were intubated in the medical intensive care unit, underwent multiple heart catheterizations, were on life sustaining pressors, and ultimately underwent a successful heart transplant. You started to share details about your journey on Instagram and ultimately a blog and throughout this process you’ve maintained a powerfully positive mindset. You are inspirational Alin. How did you stay so positive throughout all of this?

I’ve always been a pretty positive person. In my opinion, there was no other way to handle this whole situation. My mindset was EVERYTHING. It was the only thing I was able to control during my hospitalization. Of course, there were worse days than others. But this was normal, and this was part of the process. There were a lot of good things that came out of this as well—because we found out that this was due to a genetic dilated cardiomyopathy, a lot of my family members are now getting checked out for abnormalities. In addition, I knew that I’d be able to do something with my experiences—become a better patient advocate, and use my unique “from-doctor-to-patient” perspectives to increase awareness on heart failure, cardiomyopathy, and the importance of organ donation. All of these things kept me going.


How did this all start? How did you go from a relatively healthy young woman to almost dying in such a short amount of time?

I had a “cold” for about a month (cough, runny nose, fatigue), but started getting short of breath during mid-December. This is what scared me, because I had no history of any asthma or heart issues in the past. I found myself taking breaks from walking around the city, and I even became short of breath while I was talking at one point. I knew I needed to get checked out. I was hospitalized for a viral pneumonia, but we soon found out that this was all acute heart failure from a genetic cause (likely exacerbated by a pneumonia or myocarditis, as per the official documentation).


Do you have any family history of heart disease?

My dad has dilated cardiomyopathy. He is and always has been very healthy otherwise (exercises daily, has never consumed alcohol/caffeine, has never been a tobacco user). It was incidentally found during a primary care visit when he was 44 years old. His cardiologists had always attributed it to a viral myocarditis, because he didn’t know his family history too well. When I was hospitalized, we found out that his father died of sudden cardiac death in his early 40s, but no autopsy was ever done. The puzzle pieces came together.


So this dilated cardiomyopathy must have been brewing under the surface for a while, no?

I had an ejection fraction of 5-10%, with severely damaged, thin walls. The care team estimated that this was all chronic in nature—at least 6 months to 1 year. I just had no symptoms because I was healthy otherwise. In Emergency Medicine, we always say to look out for the “young patient with one very abnormal vital sign” because they’re the ones who are probably going to crash quickest. That was me.


Did your doctors discover a specific virus that they believe caused this?

No. My viral panels were essentially negative, but there are a few tests still pending (some take months to result).


So you get admitted to the hospital. That night you went downhill fast and suddenly you are intubated and in the medical intensive care unit (MICU). What did it feel like to be intubated?

I apparently I called out for my own intubation like a good ER doctor would! I don’t remember much. I just remember feeling really sweaty one second. A “Rapid Response” was called because I was crashing. And then I woke up 24 hours later with a tube in my mouth. The tube itself was very uncomfortable, and I think I was trying to self-extubate at some point. I will tell you—it felt terrible to be intubated, but it felt GREAT to be extubated. 


I saw some pictures you posted that had some scrawled messages on post-it notes from when you were intubated attempting to communicate. In my experience communicating with someone who is intubated is one of the most frustrating and heart breaking experiences in the MICU (and I’m not the one intubated). After the experience of being intubated what did you learn that will change what you do in the hospital with intubated patients?

I was restrained and trying to suction myself. I was so frustrated because I had so many questions but I couldn’t talk and kept gagging on my secretions. I remembered this scene in “Extremis” (a great, short documentary on Intensive Care Units available on Netflix) where the doctor was trying to communicate with an intubated patient via paper/pen. I tried to do the same. I will forever keep these with me for my intubated patients.


I saw that you were allowed to leave the house for the first time and have yourself a nice fifteen-minute stroll with your camera. What did it feel like to have the energy to do that?

I’ve been working a lot with my wonderful physical therapist, who comes over a few times per week. She is worried that I’m going to “do too much,” so she is very good with setting time limits for me and cautiously walking with me everywhere. I do get lightheaded when I exert myself too much, and I always have to have my pulse oximeter on while I walk or exercise during these few months. BUT …. it was SO NICE to be outside! Even if it was just for a few minutes.


What is something you learned about heart transplantation that you otherwise wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for this experience?

The Heart Transplant Allocation System—the whole system changed just a few months ago. It’s all a very confusing process, but it is supposed to work out well for our patients. You can check out their site here: https://optn.transplant.hrsa.gov/learn/professional-education/adult-heart-allocation/.


What did it feel like to undergo heart transplant surgery? Is your chest still tender?

The sternotomy pain is one-of-a-kind. I am still on “sternal precautions” because it takes about 1-3 months for everything to fully heal, according to my surgeon. I take pain medications, do daily stretches and light work-outs, and collaborate with my home physical therapist a few times per week to help with the discomfort. All is slowly improving!


How many pills do you take everyday?

36 pills per day, as of right now. Ha! It will slowly decrease to just a few pills per day.


What happened to your old heart?

I gave it to the hospital (an academic center) for research purposes. I believe in the importance of medical research and wouldn’t want to do anything else with it.


Do you still plan on pursuing a critical care fellowship?

Absolutely. I want to use my experiences to better the care of my own critically ill patients, both in the ER during resuscitations and in the ICU for continued, meticulous management.


How has this changed you as a person and as a doctor?

My whole experience has changed me in several ways. I have always been a big proponent of “living life to the fullest,” but this has just confirmed how important this is (albeit cheesy, I know). I want to use my experience to become a better person, a better doctor, and eventually use it all to help advocate for organ donation and improving heart health.


Who or what helped you get through all of this?

The real MVP? My support system. There wasn’t a day I was alone in the hospital. Friends, family, co-residents, attendings were there so often that the nurses had to put a limit on my visitors. They helped me get through so much, whether it was by making me laugh, coloring with me, watching TV shows with me. However, with that being said, I think it was also important for me to be alone to process the situation well. I did a lot of writing and met with therapists weekly for my own sanity.


Anything else you care to share?

For all the residents interested in critical care: chest tubes are definitely the most painful procedure ever. Arterial lines don’t hurt as much as I thought they would.


Thank you so much Alin for letting me have some of your time. And for anyone who wants to follow her progress or donate to a good cause please check out her blog, https://www.achangeofhe.art, where you can also find her social media links. As always, don’t forget to subscribe below so you don’t miss out of my next blog post!

Is Anyone Here A Doctor?!

I grabbed a few beach pillows, put on my old worn out blue beach button down, poured myself a glass of whiskey, and walked down to the beach from our villa to watch the sunset. My four friends and I were ten days deep into a two week vacation. We had already toured Seoul, South Korea for 3 days, Tokyo, Japan for 4 days, and Hong Kong for 3 days so I welcomed the two days of rest and relaxation that accompanied the beach resort of Vinpearl in Nha Trang, Vietnam.

I remember laying down perched up on a pillow or two to support my head. The fine white sand of Nha Trang starting to stick to my almost empty but still cold glass of whiskey. I was in my own little world. The sun was just about to slip behind Vietnam’s mountain range in the distance when I heard a commotion coming from our villa. I sipped the final remnants of Johnyny Walker from my glass when my friend Demitri approached me with a worried look on his face. He knelt down onto one knee next to me and said, ‘I just puked blood’.

I immediately gathered my pillows, stood up, and lead Demitri to our beachfront villa. I brushed the sand off my shirt and pants and switched to doctor mode. Demitri was tremulous and hunched over due to his abdominal pain and his physical symptoms were matched with the anxiety of being potentially sick in a foreign country.

Back at our villa I could see that my three other friends were almost as anxious as Demitri. ‘I got this guys’, I assured them, ‘can you grab us some bottled water please?’.

While one of our friends was fetching water the other two explained that they were hanging out when Demitri felt nauseas and began to vomit. After retching a third time Demitri saw blood. They didn’t know what to do so they did the only logical thing- they went and got the doctor off the beach.

With water bottle in hand, Demitri explained that he was feeling lightheaded. I laid him down on the beach chair and and lowered its head flat. The differentials ran through my head quickly with infectious etiologies being the highest. Unlikely arrythmogenic in nature given lack of gross physical exam findings with no past medical history in an otherwise relatively young and healthy adult man in his late 20’s. His lightheadedness likely due to orthostatic hypotension likely complicating his underlying issue given that he was vomiting and had decreased oral intake over the last 12-hours.

I tweezed out that he had no other associated symptoms including fever, chills, diarrhea, black, dark, or bloody stools, and he had no major past medical history. No meds or allergies. His physical exam was benign except for six firm abdominal masses which we deduced was his rock hard abs. He was in great shape with a regular heart rate and strong peripheral pulses. He was an otherwise healthy guy until today.

In the end, it was a scant amount of blood in the bowl but it always looks worse than it is. Like adding a drop of red food dye to a bowl of water. He had something to eat earlier that day that disagreed with him and likely caused some gastritis. Highly unlikely for this to be a manifestation of a Mallory-Weis tear or something potentially life threatening.

8mg of ondansetron, or Zofran, which I keep with me when I travel helped his nausea and stomach pain and his vomiting did not return. He began to feel better within a few hours and a lack of diarrhea pushed me to hold off on giving him antibiotics, 1g of Azithromycin that I bring with me on tropical vacations in case of traveler’s diarrhea.

As a medical professional the experience made me realize a few things. First, that as physicians one of our most valuable skills is our ability to triage. To be able to tell someone, ‘you are sick and need to go to the hospital immediately’ versus ‘take two and call me in the morning’. To be able to separate the inconvenient medical issues from the potentially life threatening.

Second, that half our job as doctors is medicine but the other half is humanism. Sure, nobody will care about how good your bedside manner is if you aren’t a smart doctor and are unable to do the medical part of your job. You know, diagnose and treat and all that jazz. But what separates the good from the best is the ability to connect with someone rapidly, show them you are listening, and to quell their fears and anxieties that accompany being sick.

Lastly that as a medical professional, be it a nurse, PA, or physician, you never know when you will be the only medically trained individual in an emergency situation, be it on an airplane, on the street, or a beach in Vietnam. You will be the person that civilians will look to for help. So regardless of what level of training you are at, be it fellowship, residency, or medical school, use everyday as an opportunity to learn and absorb everything you can. It might just help you save someone’s life one day.

 

Have you ever had to answer the call ‘is anyone here a doctor’? Want to share your story? E-mail me your story at KittyKatzMD@gmail.com for a chance to be featured as a guest author!

Why Are You In Medicine?

I was recently interviewed on a podcast (Surviving Medicine) and was asked the simple question, ‘why are you in medicine?’. In retrospect, that’s the exact question I silently ask myself in frustration and exhaustion a little bit too often while I’m in the hospital. In those moments I recognize that I feel burnt out. In those moments if someone told me that I had to repeat intern year in order to finish residency I would probably quit medicine altogether.

So much of our job as medical students, residents, fellows, and attending physicians are out of our control. Even when we are able to treat our patients appropriately we are faced with the simple fact that many of our patients might simply not follow our recommendations. But you know what? That’s okay. We can’t control everything and acknowledging that is the first step. What we can control is how those external forces make us feel. You are in control of your own emotions and your personal sense of job satisfaction.

Residency trains physicians in how to treat patients and develop into well-rounded doctors. Sometimes however we lose focus on why we went into medicine in the first place. The truth of the matter is that the day to day struggles and frustrations weigh heavily on our professional and personal lives during training and those stressors likely won’t abate upon graduation to the next level of professional development. The stressors of medical school compared to residency are different but the same. The stressors of residency to fellowship or our first job as an attending physician are different but the same. Residents today more than ever need to train themselves in how to perceive job satisfaction in order to find personal enjoyment in their day to day life as a physician and in doing so help combat professional burnout. We must not lose sight of the forest for the trees.

Thinking back to the original question I was asked on the podcast, “why are you in medicine?”, I tried thinking of my favorite aspects of my job. Things like teaching my medical students and interns, presenting interesting cases at conference, learning how to manage and treat the basics of internal medicine, and the time I spend with my patients.

As any patient could tell you doctors don’t spend much time with their patients. Unfortunately it’s one more aspect that I feel is out of my control. I wish I could spend more time at bedside with my patients and it’s one of the most frustrating aspects of medicine today. However the simple fact of the matter is that our day is packed to the brim and we can only spend so much time at bedside. But those small moments of my day are my favorite. That inseparable bond between patient and physician. Being able to tell a patient and their family in their time of need that I hear them and I’m listening and that we will figure this out together. To explain a diagnosis and why they haven’t felt well over the past few weeks. Or to console a grieving family when my sympathy is all I can offer them.

Today I reminded myself why I went into medicine and it was invigorating. I even went back and read my personal statements from medical school and residency because I wanted to remember the version of me that applied with eyes wide open. I’m not that same person but the passion that drove me to apply to medical school in the first place is the same passion that pushes me each and every day in the hospital. It’s the same passion that motivates me to do my personal best for each and every one of my patients day in and day out. It’s the same passion that helped me remember why I love my job.

I leave you with the same question that helped center me, “why are you in medicine?“.


This blog post was originally featured on KevinMD, social media’s leading physician voice.

The Worst Part About Being an Internal Medicine Intern

The only thing I love more than complaining about being a doctor is actually being a doctor. Intern year sucks. There’s no way around it. I wake up at 5:15am to get to the floor at 6:00am and I rarely leave at 5:00pm when my shift is scheduled to end assuming I’m not on call till 9:00pm.

I often feel my stomach growl at 9:00am and wonder why the hell I’m hungry again. Didn’t I just have breakfast? OH WAIT. I ate breakfast 4 hours ago. By noon I’ve already been at work for 6 hours.

It’s stressful. I’m constantly in situations that I don’t quite know how to handle. For instance, when my patient’s nurse walks over and tells me that my patient’s family wants to speak with the doctor. The first time it happened I kind of looked back blankly at the nurse, shrugged my shoulders and said ‘okay?’. I looked over to my senior resident inquisitively and she gave me a bleak stare back and simply said, ‘she means you…doctor’. It’s fucking terrifying.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my job. I love being better tomorrow than I was today. Sure, I would generally prefer not to look like an idiot in front of my attendings but it’s kind of inevitable. And if my pride and ego are the only things that are hurt in the process then I’m happy to learn something new. Not to mention I look dashing in that long white coat.

But the worst part of intern year so far? It isn’t the lack of sleep, or getting yelled at by a cardio fellow, or looking stupid in front of my entire team. It’s been watching my patient slowly die and not being able to do anything about it. I feel helpless. I can’t even imagine what’s going through my patient’s head.

There are literal teams of physicians working to keep my patient alive. Cardiology, cardiothoracic surgery, plastic surgery, radiology, interventional radiology, nephrology, infectious disease, gastroenterology, hematology & oncology, physical therapy, nutritionists, and the entire nursing staff (oh thank the lord for the nursing staff). And all of the ancillary staff that help us do our jobs.

When this man dies the entire hospital is going to be present for the morbidity & mortality conference. Except the one department that should have been involved from the beginning- palliative care.

Getting a palliative care consult doesn’t mean giving up on our patient. It means making the patient’s quality of life a priority.

I won’t begin to pretend to know what’s best for my patient or how to get my patient well enough to get him out of the hospital but what’s the point if we don’t make his quality of life, and his family’s quality of life, a priority. 

——–

This post was originally featured on KevinMD.com