Rich_by_the_Bay
Moderator Emeritus
A trusted old friend left me forever last week. My 40 year-old stethoscope finally disintegrated into a heap of tubes, hardware and failed plastic ear buds. The cause of death was the snagging of a metal part as I carelessly opened my desk drawer. Ironically it had seen little use in recent years as my retirement replaced most of my practice time. But it still saw occasional duty and its unceremonious departure stirred my memory.
When I bought it back in 1971, it raised “important" questions: should I wear it looped over the back of my neck or hang in front hanging like a second necktie? Do I really need to wipe it down with alcohol after every new contact? Can you really hear heart sounds from the left and right ventricles and all four valves? Could I get by without it? (Front, yes, yes, no.)
It was my tool for the laying-on-of-hands more times than I can count. Its flat diaphragm made first contact with patients of all varieties - black, white, young and old, sick, well, and everything combination in between. It assured many a young patient that they could listen to their own heart beat right on the spot, usually eliciting a wry smile. For the more frail, it somehow seemed to impart well-being, along with a brief “everything sounds just fine."
I had to give it a quick cleaning a dozen or more times a day. I sat on it countless times but it never complained. It has been soiled by unmentionable fluids many a time. Always in my lab coat pocket it would nearly jump into perfect position in my ears with a quick tug.
Over the decades this instrument bore witness to death and dying, distress and relief, breathless agony and jittery laughter. It was my sheriff’s badge, the most conspicuous tangible mark of my profession and, to some extent, of my self-image for the past four decades.
The trash can was full this morning so I haven’t gotten a chance to throw it out just yet.
When I bought it back in 1971, it raised “important" questions: should I wear it looped over the back of my neck or hang in front hanging like a second necktie? Do I really need to wipe it down with alcohol after every new contact? Can you really hear heart sounds from the left and right ventricles and all four valves? Could I get by without it? (Front, yes, yes, no.)
It was my tool for the laying-on-of-hands more times than I can count. Its flat diaphragm made first contact with patients of all varieties - black, white, young and old, sick, well, and everything combination in between. It assured many a young patient that they could listen to their own heart beat right on the spot, usually eliciting a wry smile. For the more frail, it somehow seemed to impart well-being, along with a brief “everything sounds just fine."
I had to give it a quick cleaning a dozen or more times a day. I sat on it countless times but it never complained. It has been soiled by unmentionable fluids many a time. Always in my lab coat pocket it would nearly jump into perfect position in my ears with a quick tug.
Over the decades this instrument bore witness to death and dying, distress and relief, breathless agony and jittery laughter. It was my sheriff’s badge, the most conspicuous tangible mark of my profession and, to some extent, of my self-image for the past four decades.
The trash can was full this morning so I haven’t gotten a chance to throw it out just yet.