Parenting in healthcare

Don't look for big things, just do small things with great love.... The smaller the thing, the greater must be our love. —Mother Teresa Today was Bring a Stuffed Animal Day at daycare; a day my son had been rehearsing all week, debating which one to take to show his friends. This morning, we packed his bag for the day, remembering his washed nap blanket and pillow, then debated over toast or waffles for breakfast and rushed out the door. As we arrived at daycare, his friends were proudly showing off their stuffed animals, and I quickly realized that in the mad dash out the door, we forgot the precious stuffed animal. My son crumbled. My first patient was checking in, expecting to be seen in 15 minutes; going back home would set my day back an hour, not an option at this point. His precious teacher recognized the tears welling in my eyes and saw my son's devastation. She grabbed a stuffed animal from her reserve, and declared that it was waiting for my son to arrive. It is the most special one to share. My son clung to her narrative. He collected himself off the ground, gave me a kiss, and started studying his new stuffed friend. I wanted to hug this dear lady, because I was so very thankful for her rescue, but my patient was waiting and off I went to work. It is now 5:45 p.m., and I have exactly 15 minutes to make it to daycare pickup before the late fee begins to build. My schedule reads that I end at 5 p.m. and my commute is 15 minutes, door to door, allowing what would seem to anyone else ample time for the allotted pickup. However, I am a physician associate/assistant (PA), and a patient with gastrointestinal bleeding presented at 4:30 p.m. Although some clinicians might merely require a readjustment of plans, to a parent this means their child will be the last one waiting to be picked up, not to mention the extra financial cost if you're late. This is a normal work week for those of us who are parents, and a normal stressor we face as PAs caring for patients not beholden to our schedule. Sometimes it's the last clinic patient of the day who checks in 10 minutes after their scheduled appointment time. It's a patient who is hard of hearing and requires an interpreter. Other times, it is the attending physician who wants to review cases from the day, and who does not understand the urgency of childcare pickup. Or it may be an emergency. All PAs encounter this unpredictability. It's the nature of our job. Our schedule is a framework attempting to contain the natural variability of medicine. Healthcare providers who are parents using childcare know a stress different than any other. We hustle human beings out of bed before the sun, feed them, nurture their tender souls, make sure they are presentable to the world, and rush to work to care with compassion, intellectual vigor, and the intensity that life and death bring to our jobs. We are privileged to do this work, to join people in their most vulnerable moments, and bring healing and hope. But we are also very, very tired. Today, I make it just in time, 5:59 p.m. My child, the last one there, runs to me with his backpack already on. He gives me a tackle hug and bursts with excitement, telling me about the adventures of his day, his new stuffed friend, and asking what we are having for dinner. My mind changes gears and I can relax, until I do it again, tomorrow. The challenges of a PA parent are great, but our reward is greater still. To all the PAs who are parents, you are amazing and you are heroes. Your love is great. Stay strong and may your coffee be stronger!Box 1