Word: physician
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...maxillofacial surgeon, Jerome Sobel has brought a smile - literally - to hundreds of patients' faces. But the Lausanne physician has a second job that is far more somber: helping terminally ill people end their lives. Sobel is president for French-speaking Switzerland's chapter of EXIT, an assisted-suicide organization that provides a lethal dose of barbiturates to terminally ill patients who want to end their life. (See pictures of suicide in the U.S. Army recruiters' ranks...
Your attending physician, clearly harried and overworked by the usual Saturday night clientele, made no bones about the fact that she had no time for me. She sent me away to Mount Auburn Hospital with only the explanation that she was too busy to tend to me (rather than explain that UHS did not have CT scans and I needed one for my head). At the hospital, I had to wait five hours for my head to be sewn up, but there was none of the attitude that had characterized my time at UHS. No recriminations, no doubting, no judgment...
...waiting area for a while, sure that I was just going to check in and check out. Little did I know that I was listed under “alcohol-related injuries” and so was going to have to stay until the daytime physician reported for duty. When I left the room they had placed me in to ask what time I could expect to be released (I had planned to work on my thesis prospectus), I got no comprehensible answer to my question...
Instead, the on-duty physician, the same one from the night before, exploded at me: “Do you see any of the other patients roaming the halls making demands? Do you have an appointment? No, I don’t think so. What makes you think you’re so special?” Thoroughly taken aback, I tried to get out that all I wanted was an idea of when I’d be able to leave so that I could plan my day. Frustrated, I trudged back to my room, and a nurse...
After taking my temperature and learning of my symptoms, the pleasant UHS nurse and physician informed me that I was not well enough to interact with my healthier peers. Armed with four facemasks, two Tylenol tablets, one PowerAde, two saltine crackers, and numerous well-wishes, I was sent off to quarantine. As I sat in my swine shuttle on the way from UHS, I fretted over my dilemma. Would I be relegated to a concrete prison in Mather? Or worse, would I serve my illness-fated sentence in the hinterlands of the Quad...