WEAR THE WHITE COAT
GLMS WEAR THE WHITE COAT – Observations
on a day with Dr. Wayne Tuckson
Gray Smith
P
rior to Friday, October 12, I had visited six ORs. I remem-
ber none of them, as I was the patient on the table. What
I do recall is the anxiety that accompanied even these
routine scans, scopes and repairs.
Then came the invitation: “Would you like to wear
the white coat, and spend a day at the elbow of a skilled surgeon
in action?”
Knowing that I couldn’t miss out on being part of such a rare
experience, I met the opportunity to join Dr. Wayne Tuckson, a
colorectal surgeon, with a different set of anxieties: Will I be in the
way? Will I somehow offend the patients, or add to their anxieties?
Will I say or do something to embarrass myself?
Can I handle the blood?
The first moments that morning revealed the theme that would
carry across the day: humanity. The concept of humanity wove its
way across our experiences with Dr. Tuckson, all of the associated
professionals we worked with, and the eight different patients and
their families that we met, before, during, and after their life-chang-
ing procedures.
While the procedures of the day were similar, the faces of the
patients, and the lives behind them, were not.
The father who was waiting for his son, who we learned was
newly sober after years of addiction, and who cried in Dr. Tuckson’s
arms as he told their story of hardship. And the perfect words of
comfort he received from Dr. Tuckson. The relief on the face of
the wife of the man who had put off his procedure for years. The
fear in the face of the 63-year-old man who was having his first
colonoscopy, even though colon cancer had killed his mother at a
young age, and his anesthesia-tinged smile when he learned he was
healthy. I’d love to know what compelled him, and others, to take
action after delaying for so long – perhaps it would convince others.
We met and treated the frightened ESL (English as a Second
Language) man who had numerous painful complications, includ-
ing one that we later learned was a malignancy. May he find peace
and healing.
Dr. Tuckson met me at 7:15 a.m. sharp, three large boxes of
donuts in hand. Not for me, sadly, but for the many staff and crew
we’d be interacting with throughout the day. (It was a gesture he’d
be thanked for all day.) We started quickly – donning scrubs in
the doctor’s locker room, and straight into our first patient visit,
where a gentleman and his wife were confronting his long-avoided
procedure. Dr. Tuckson’s calm, upbeat, very human presence set
them both at ease. We saw relief and gratitude on the faces of the day’s other pa-
tients and their loved ones when they heard Dr. Tuckson say that
all was well. Even though he also shared that recovery was really
going to hurt….
During the procedure itself, my first observation was of the
precision of the team, from the surgical staff and anesthesiologist,
all the way to the OR staff. They knew what their roles were, and
they knew who was in charge. After the anesthesiologist did her
work, to my surprise, I was invited to step to the table for a close
look. It was a very close look, where one of my nagging questions
was answered – I can handle the blood, although in this case, there
was relatively little. That would change during the next, far more
complex procedure, when the electric scalpel did its work. It was a privilege being with Dr. Tuckson and his team, and with
these people and their families, during a period of such intense
anxiety and intimacy. I am grateful to all who invited me into their
stories, for their generosity and their trust.
I was impressed by the tools used, and by the skill of the hands
using them. I was impressed by the expediency of the procedure. No
time was wasted. I was impressed by the meticulous adherence to
detail, in maintaining a sterile room, the quick cadence of the team
working in concert, and the diligent way each step of the procedures
was recorded for the business side of things. This was a process that
would repeat through all of the day’s work. I still think about the people I met, both patient and practitioner,
and hope they are doing well. I think about Dr. Tuckson’s many gifts,
and those of other practitioners. In the hectic tempo of the day, they
may forget that their positive impact on humanity is significant. I
hope our friendship continues. I appreciate GLMS for giving me
this extraordinary opportunity.
The clinical side of the day revealed another aspect of humanity
I hadn’t considered. I had expected that each procedure would
conclude with a neat row of sutures. Instead, most of the surgical
sites were left open. When we took a short break, as Dr. Tuckson
16
drew me a diagram to explain the procedure he’d just completed,
he reminded me that his role was simply to expedite the human
body’s remarkable ability to heal itself. Of course.
LOUISVILLE MEDICINE
I learned a new story of humanity from each and every one of the
patients and families we met that day, even from the older lady who
refused to have an observer in the room - a poignant reminder to
all present that hard-earned dignity commands the utmost respect.
The day’s final lesson in humanity came in the form of exhaus-
tion – after maintaining such a high level of intense focus and from
patient to patient, family to family, on our feet for a full day. Now I
appreciate why Dr. Tuckson advised me to wear comfortable shoes
- and eat plenty of fiber.
To all invited to wear the white coat: don’t hesitate.
Gray Smith is the Director of Corporate Support and Marketing for
Louisville Public Media.