Michael Jackson’s doctor, Conrad Murray, was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter this week for his role in the singer’s death. As with all US trials of this magnitude (O.J. Simpson’s was the first I was old enough to remember) it has been a tabloid circus. The fact that most New Zealanders can tell you more about the details of the case than they can about the electoral system options they will be voting on in three weeks, tells you something pretty scary about our media appetites…
But I digress. As a former doctor, the interesting thing about this trial for me has been the fact that Dr Murray was gradually tempted to step over the boundaries of good medical practice, and well over the boundaries of his own skills and specialisation. The drug that Jackson was on – Propofol – is a powerful anaesthetic and should only be administered by specialists who are highly experienced in its use and side effects; and in the appropriate clinical environment. (I should add that I myself am no longer practicing for vocational, rather than violation-al reasons!)
When we were training, nothing got pounced on and corrected more quickly than independence. “Lone Rangers” were identified and reprimanded quickly. As young doctors we were encouraged to be growing in our confidence and skill – but we were also expected to be growing in our recognition of the limits to that skill. Our mentors were looking for assurance and poise under pressure – but they were also looking for evidence that we knew when to call for help; when to defer to the skill or the ideas of another. They were looking for doctors who knew when they were out of their depth. They were looking for doctors who understood the importance of teamwork. They were looking for humility.
Talking with a friend last week, we marveled at just how difficult it is to cultivate this trait in a professional setting – medical or otherwise. None of us find it enjoyable to discover that there are things we are simply not good enough at – even less so when that discovery is made by another, and then pointed out to us! And there is even more at stake when the prospect of more finances or flattery has lured us into over-stepping the bounds of our ability. We like to think to that we’ve got what it takes – so it’s uncomfortable to find out that we don’t…or that someone else has more than what it takes!
But it is a reality of life. And reality good, not reality bad! It’s a blessing that we can’t do all things well. It forces us out of our individualistic ways of thinking and into the joy of community. The apostle Paul uses the analogy of the body to describe the glorious variety and interdependence of skills and personalities within the Corinthian church. We are encouraged, as they were, to respect our own gifts and abilities – and also those of others. It’s true that we could always do that a little better in church – but I think we could do it a little better in all of life.
Medicine, as we have seen this week, is no exception. In his famous ancient oath for the medical profession, Hippocrates included this line: “I will not cut for stone, even for patients in whom the disease is manifest; I will leave this operation to be performed by practitioners, specialists in this art.” Historians think that this is a reference to kidney stones and that there was a recognition, even in the 5th century BC, that doctors needed to have the humility to leave surgery for kidney stones to those who were experts.
The Conrad Murray case has been a complex one and I am not suggesting that pride was the primary, or even a major, issue. But whatever the pressures were that pushed him into questionable practice, his example should serve as a challenge to us all to accept with grace the things we do well, and with humility the things we don’t…
