When I was about 12 years old my class went on an excursion. Off on a bus for an overnight stay in the 'big smoke' to see the zoo and museum. When we arrived home, I pleaded sick for school the following morning. At the time I really believed I was only tired and didn't feel like going to school. Mum, too busy with kids and work and life let me stay home. Then I got sick. Really yukky, super delirious sick.
We went to the A&E department, who gave me penicillin, and put me in a wheelchair to get me to the car for mum to take me home. While in the exam room I told the doctor that 'my hands are soft because I have been working in Papua New Guinea'. Yes, delirious. Mum managed with the drugs from the hospital until we could get in to see our lovely family doctor Dr P.
Dr P was a diagram drawing, lover of a medical challenge. He looked at me, took in my fever, the rash that had appeared on my mid section, the results from kidney tests and turned to his massive medical books. Scarlet Fever. He just wanted to check for the official medical name. This ramble comes back to me as I consider the empowered patient or 'e-patient'. Dr P nowadays would have looked up an online journal to confirm his hunch. Mum would have googled the rash to alleviate fears of penicillin allergy. Perhaps even the A&E staff would have kept me overnight instead of wheeling me to the car.
In this case, regardless of the world wide web, the result was the same. Penicillin saved the day. Today, the length of time it took for diagnosis would be halved.
Thanks for bearing with me while I wax lyrical about my youth!
cheers
Sarah
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