Showing posts with label abortion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abortion. Show all posts

July 29, 2012

Done with class (until the fall)

[This are my last few proseminar journal entries.  I'm done with my classes...one more week in my lab, and then I can finally say that I'm on vacation...]

I think that I’m finally beginning to understand what Prof. M says when he asks students to “think like bioethicists”.  Context: I came into this proseminar thinking that a bioethicist couldn’t possibly process things in the same way that a scientist or a musician might.  (That is, since I identify as both a scientist and a musician, I will have a very difficult time learning how to think like a bioethicist.)

However, to my surprise, I’m learning that there is a similar sort of thought process to all three of these personalities.  All of them, at their core, involve the proposal of an idea, and then the substantiation of said idea.  Each personality will take a slightly different approach, of course, but my point is that if I can think like a scientist and like a musician, there’s no reason why I can’t learn to think like a bioethicist.  (In other words, it may not be as far out of my reach as I thought.)  After all, I already like to think systematically; that’s the way I’m wired.  And a bioethicist, according to Prof. M, survives by a) clearly defining the concepts and terms he wants to use, b) using those concepts and terms with stringent consistency, and lastly, c) using them to advance the proposed argument – that is to say, “thinking hard with them”.

One topic covered today that I found especially interesting was the question of how bioethics attempts to handle the physician’s apparent duty not to kill.  My knee-jerk reaction to this issue is firmly rooted in my faith, which takes a clear stance on it in Exodus 2013: “You shall not murder.”  Therefore, if I were to assume a position strictly based on my religion, I would be the physician who, without exception, refuses to perform any kind of abortion and rejects physician-assisted suicide (or euthanasia, or whatever they’re calling it these days.  That’s all very confusing, especially with the connotations of terms like “euthanasia”.)  But here’s my problem – deference to a religious position, however clear, seems like an almost laughably easy route.  In fact, it’s too easy.  Why?  Because of cases like Dax Cowart.

I’m finding that it’s one thing to talk about issues like abortion and active intentional killing in theory.  Yes, it’s one thing to tackle these issues systematically, to delineate the categories and arguments, to make all of the charts and tables.  I rarely have a problem when it comes to examining difficult issues with a cool, analytical approach.  But it’s another thing entirely to see such issues.  As a student, it’s a completely different experience to be presented with real cases…real people…real lives.  This is not theory anymore!  How can I possibly decide that active intentional killing is universally wrong when Dax Cowart went through such agony and mistreatment from the very professionals who were supposed to be helping him?

This brings me to some thoughts on the two types of “active killing”.  As I understand it now, the difference between homicide and assisted suicide lies in who takes the “last step” before the individual dies.  At this point (i.e. the caveat being that I’m not a physician yet), I can’t see myself ever agreeing to commit homicide, even at the request of a patient.  Even the sight of those words makes me shudder.  However – if it would fall in the realm of quality medical care, I might, after a lot of consideration and conversation, assist a suicide.  (That said, I really hope I never run into this kind of situation; even thinking about it is making me nervous.)
At the end of the day, do I believe that there is something intrinsically wrong with killing another person?  Yes.  Killing in the sense that I believe God meant it in the Decalogue (that is, murder) clearly violates respect for the individual and the sanctity of life.  I think that murder (in this case, homicide) unjustly interferes with a choice that is no one’s to make but God’s.  But then again…I don’t believe that God sanctions unnecessary suffering.

***

This could be a little nitpicky, but I really liked that Dr. S asked us those basic questions: why medicine, and why LIM.  I was a bit caught off-guard since I sat near the front and had to go first, but I’m realizing now that those answers are really important ones to have at my fingertips.  They’re basic interview questions, after all…and having comprehensive, elevator-ride answers to them will only serve me well as I progress through my education (i.e. residency interviews).  And I haven’t even mentioned that it will help me to have those answers clear and accessible whenever I’m doubting my abilities or my call to this profession (which happens way too often.  But then, I guess I would be a lesser steward of my own growth if I didn’t look at my choices with a critical eye once in a while…)

Oh, one other thing: I’m not sure that this was her intention or not (or whether it’s just my projection), but I felt like Dr. S did a good job of subtly saying that the MBA is a better choice for LIM students than is the MS.  I understand that she’s speaking from life experience, and that she’s seen MBAs go “farther” in the job arena…but as an MS student, hearing that is a bit harsh.  I do wish that she had given a more balanced picture of what these graduate degrees – both of them – could do for us, instead of just implying that the MS students are destined to be disadvantaged if/when we ever decide to step away from clinical work.  For now, it feels like just because I’m not expressly interested in management, finance, accounting, informatics, etc., I’m losing out and settling for the consolation degree…

***

I was thoroughly unimpressed by today’s lectures.  Prof. L speaks well for sure, but as a LIM student, I felt somewhat excluded after the relevance of the talks given by Profs. M and V to my future.  Eugenics, Sims, and more on the history of bioethics?  Perhaps I’m just tired, and a little burned-out (which would be a reasonable assumption, given the pace which I’ve maintained since the end of spring term), but I really don’t want to hear any more history.  That’s not going to help me, practically speaking, over the next few years.  What will help me is more examples of how to systematically work through difficult cases, and clinical situations where the ethics are murkier than anyone would like.  I much prefer the lectures in which I get to learn about the ethical principles involved and then apply them to real scenarios.  And I don’t know about my peers, but I do not see myself ever getting involved in animal research – my summer research fellowship (in a Drosophila lab) is teaching me that and more.  I certainly don’t support the practice of hurting animals for scientific gain, even if they cannot feel pain, but yesterday’s lecture by Dr. S gave me all the clarity I need about how the next few years of my life are going to play out.  So all of this talk about animal experimentation, for example, is leaving me rather bored and disenchanted with this proseminar for today.

That said, I forgot to mention yesterday that Dr. S did leave me thinking about something positive.  (I was a bit harsh on her, I think…)  She did spend quite some time talking about academic medicine, albeit in the context of how much money different professors at varying “levels” (i.e. full, associate, visiting) can earn.  Perhaps at some point way in the future, when I no longer have the same energy for my private practice that I started with, I could be a clinical professor!  I already know that I enjoy teaching – how much more enjoyable could it be to teach future physicians about the profession I love (and only expect to love more as time passes)?  And then, on the practical side, this could give me the more structured schedule that I may need as I settle down and raise children.  This definitely deserves some more thought on my part, since it would probably affect where I choose to pursue residency positions – I would need to look more seriously at university hospitals and other teaching facilities…

I was really thrown off by Dr. P's lecturing style.  Perhaps the issue is a simple incompatibility with my learning style.  In any case, it took  me a significant amount of time to get used to the way she was handling her lecture time.  I wish that it had been more structured – that is, less of a “casual discussion”, less haphazard, less jumpy.  I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt, as I have been learning in a decidedly “undergraduate” environment for the past three years.  It’s strange, how quickly I judged (i.e. within the first fifteen minutes) that she was an ineffective lecturer, just because she didn’t really give much background or introduction to any of the myriad topics she covered.  I guess it goes to show that no matter how much you’ve learned at a university as prestigious as UC Berkeley, a degree from there doesn’t automatically make you a good teacher of everything you’ve absorbed.  The lesson for me, perhaps, is that no brand-name medical school or residency position, in itself, will make me a good physician.

But enough of my editorializing.  I did learn a bit from her.  For example, before today, I had no idea what “23 and Me” is, much less the ethical issues that surround it.  But now that I’ve done a little bit of Googling on it, I am amazed that for just a few hundred dollars, I could send in a biological sample and receive my entire genome in return.  And then, there’s the whole issue of genetic testing not just being available to all, but actually being recommended (for certain pregnant women).  Do people really need to know the intricacies of their genetic programming?  Are we just opening new doors to increasing the cost of healthcare – for procedures and scans done largely out of paranoia?  All of this makes me wonder if we’re getting to the point of doing science just for science’s sake…

***

What a wonderful end to the seminar.  I never thought that I would ever be interested in writing, publishing, and all of that…much less in the field of research ethics!  I mean, I’m obviously settled on pursuing a career in medicine, but today corrected my previously-held notion that as a physician, I would have neither the time nor the capacity to write.

For example, I was intrigued when Prof. P mentioned that a medical student occasionally wrote for a column in the “New York Times”.  After spending some time on Google, I didn’t find this student, but I did find a Dr. Perri Klass, professor of journalism and pediatrics (what a relevant combination!) at NYU, who has written quite a bit for the “Times”.  Here is one article of hers which takes on the issue of patient confidentiality…with middle-school-age children.  This fascinated me partly because patient age was rarely incorporated into discussions on confidentiality, either in this proseminar or in class last term.  However, I think it’s going to be an important part of my education, especially when I begin to see patients.

I’ve never really thought of myself who might go into research, even clinical research; I guess I don’t really have a burning desire to explore that side of medicine.  But it’s nice to know that you don’t have be a “researcher” to write for peer-reviewed journals (as well as other forms of media).  I’m thinking about people like Dr. Sanjay Gupta, for example, who’s made a name for himself both as a clinician and as an educator…he affects so many lives, just because he makes the occasional television appearance.  I wonder if I could be like him, and dare to reach outside the confines (albeit safe confines) of a private practice.  That would mean venturing outside my comfort zone for sure, but I do like to write.  Perhaps I ought to make sure that I don’t forget to write, even as medical school threatens to take over all of my time.  After all, as Prof. P pointed out, the scholar Janet Emig said, “writing makes our thoughts visible and concrete and allows us to modify them.  Writing down a word, a sentence, a paragraph, suggests more words, sentences, paragraphs.  Writing progresses as an act of discovery.”  I’d like to distinguish myself somehow while I’m in medical school; perhaps writing, in some way, will help me to achieve this goal.

Speaking of Prof. P, I must say that I am extremely impressed with both his lecturing style and his attention to detail as a teacher.  The way that he takes seemingly-insurmountable tasks (i.e. explaining how to write and publish in a journal) and breaks them down into manageable chunks is a really helpful thing for me, as a student who knows next to nothing about that process.  His starting with the basics (i.e. why publish at all, techniques for coming up with ideas) is making the world of publishing seem far less inaccessible.  His business acumen, with regard to everything from HIV research to genomics to IRBs to research ethics and publishing, has me in awe!  I will certainly be consulting him for advice on how to move forward with my healthcare management project.  (I think that I’d like to do something with regard to improving treatment and management of patients with eating disorders, but am aware that any research on mental health will require me to get all kinds of permission from the Albany Med IRB.  Time shall tell…)

July 23, 2012

Issues of learning and abortion

[It's nice that I'm being allowed the liberty of creative (i.e. non-academic) writing, especially in a LIM class.  After all, I'm all about journaling.]

As draining as it is to spend such long hours in the classroom, I am so thankful that I'm getting to take this seminar.  After all, I'm not in college to spend my time in passivity, learning by rote and memorizing information that may or may not matter to me after I've graduated.  I'm here, rather, to absorb information about issues that will be relevant to my career path.  I'm here to accrue knowledge and refine my personal convictions.  I'm here to be an active participant in my own growth, as well as a good steward of my education.  And although this class is more tiring than I ever expected, it's giving me all of the above, and in abundance.  So, I'm grateful.

On a more personal note, I’m beginning to notice that this class is teaching me something that’s decidedly not academic.  To put it simply, it involves a classmate of mine who is…ah, why sugarcoat things?  She’s obnoxious.  Now, I hate to cast (unwarranted) aspersions on another person’s character, so I’m going to try to shoot for objectivity here.  (I may or may not succeed… but this particular classmate is a woman I’ve only known for a few days, after all, so let me at least try to be fair without sacrificing honesty.)

My context for these comments is that I haven’t taken classes with adults very often during my three years at Union.  On the contrary, I’m used to being around undergraduates, to being immersed in the undergraduate “atmosphere”.  Specifically, I’m used to hands raised, and to the implicit understanding that a professor deserves a certain respect from his/her students.  My observations of this particular classmate over the past few days reveal her to be a complete departure from all of the above.  She speaks out of turn appallingly often, and apparently thinks it respectful (to both her peers and her teachers) to carry on side conversations while class is in session.  She responds to professors more audibly and frequently than is decorous – and here, I’m not talking about the responses to professors’ direct addresses.  The adage that comes to mind is “speak only when you’re spoken to”…I mean, by all means, laugh at a joke, but no one needs to hear how you feel about the professor’s every other assertion – especially when you’re not adding anything of substance to the discussion.  That’s just inappropriate!  What’s more is that her conduct hinders the education of those who are trying to pay attention and take advantage of the wonderful opportunities (i.e. lecturers) in this class.

This woman has me convinced that she thinks she’s the only one in the room; such a selfish attitude, coupled with her pushy demeanor, does nothing to inspire my respect for her as a peer.  It is, rather, a huge turn-off, and I would be grossly understating things if I were to that she irritates me.  However, in a roundabout sort of way, she is proving to be instructive.  (I’m searching for a silver lining here because frankly, unless I do, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to tolerate being around her for the rest of the week.)  The first lesson that comes to mind is an old admonition my mother used to give me: “If you have nothing nice to say, there’s no need to say anything at all.”  It’s been taking considerable and constant self-discipline to not ask this classmate to rein herself in (if for no other reason but my sanity)…and, on occasion, to kindly stay quiet.  This exercise in self-restraint is not without its benefits; I know that in the future, it will behoove me to control my reactions, especially among my elders.  The line between being a doormat and exercising social prudence is a fine one, but an important one that this classmate is helping me to toe.  As my mother also often points out, there are all kinds of people in this world, and the least that each of them can do for you is teach you a greater awareness of yourself.  This woman is teaching me about the kind of classmate I don’t want to be, which is just as important a definition as is the kind of classmate I do want to be.   At best, this is a counterintuitive conclusion, but it’s a valuable one nonetheless.

On to matters of class material, then…this morning, as Dr. M spoke at length about [philosopher] Gregory, he often spoke of the value Gregory placed on candor in the physician-patient relationship.  As I understand it, candor is honesty of expression – and in medicine, implies a transparency with the patient regarding all aspects of his care.  For example, a respect for candor dictates that a physician must refrain from managing a problem that is too much for him to handle, instead opting to seek a consultation with the appropriate professional.  Perhaps this speaks to my relatively sparse history education, but I am continually surprised by how applicable many of Gregory’s assertions are in the contemporary context.  The value of knowing one’s own limits by no means expired with Gregory.

The other subject which especially interested me today was the discussions on abortion, particularly because this issue bothered me personally for years in the context of my father’s job as an OB/GYN.  It seems that a personal context always lends an extra dimension to this issue, which is already frustratingly controversial.  I’ve been asking my dad for years about how he can perform abortions (albeit infrequently) and still maintain a clear conscience.  His reply is always that one shouldn’t use religious beliefs as a basis for professional decisions.  Perhaps that’s a way to avoid the issue; I don’t like this method, though because my faith plays a prominent role in defining my self-conduct, both personally and professionally.  I do understand the value in “keeping work at work” and so on, and I am aware of Gregory’s position on the issue (that when professional and personal interests conflict, the professional interest should prevail).  But at this point in my life, at least, I feel compelled to seek consistency between my faith and my career.

During the winter break of my sophomore year, I had an observership on the labor and delivery/maternity floors of a hospital in the Bronx.  I remember spending time in an ambulatory clinic where abortions (both D&Cs and D&Es) were performed.  It was that experience that gave me my first experience with what the issue of abortion looks like in real life.  The D&Cs were somehow easier to watch, perhaps because they are performed before the pregnancy really looks much like a fetus; everything is blood and scraps of tissues, and it’s less obvious to a bystander that all of that would have become a baby…someone’s baby.  The first D&E that I observed, however, made me nauseous…I remember seeing the surgeon extricate a small, slippery arm, a foot, a head, and thinking, it’s like seeing parts of a doll, the kind of doll I played with as a young girl.  It was essentially a dismembered fetus, and that was upsetting.  It seemed to me then (although I didn’t use this terminology, per se) that this was a baby, and it had the right to live…it had moral standing.  Did the first fetus have it, too?  I think so…but the problem here is that it just never got a chance to survive to the point where it would have looked like a doll, too.

Having actually seen the procedure, it’s hard for me not to think of abortion – at any stage of fetal development – as wrong.  How will my faith figure into my professional conduct, if at all?  Here is the current stance of the Episcopal Diocese of New York on abortion:

“The Diocese supports freedom of choice in abortion...Convention in 1974 (reaffirmed in 1986) endorsed the decision of the U.S. Supreme Court ‘allowing women to exercise their own conscience in the matter of abortions.’[1]

I think need to do more research to see what the Church of England and the Bible say about abortion before I draw any conclusions…

What will I do when my professional obligation to my patient hangs in the balance (i.e. when the mother’s health is at risk)?  I’m not sure yet.  I can’t see myself ever performing elective abortions, but perhaps I could justify performing therapeutic abortions on the grounds of responsible patient care.

[1] “Positions on Social Issues.”  Episcopal Diocese of New York: Abortion, Needs of the Poor, Aging.  23 July 2012.  http://www.dioceseny.org/pages/319-abortion-needs-of-the-poor-aging