"The weight of our dysfunctional health care system is often resting on their backs," Rosenblatt said. "We have these extraordinary doctors but they're sort of dying on the vine. We have to make this a profession people can do and enjoy and have something else besides medicine."
Another hospital visit
It's evening in Oakland and Buczynski, who has eaten only a yogurt and a few crackers since breakfast, makes his way back across the parking lot from his office to the hospital, a squat building that looks more like a high school. He ran late all afternoon after taking time to perform Kim Schrock's epidural around 1:30 p.m. His patients seemed to understand. None complained. They knew that if the need was theirs next time, Buczynski would move them to the front of the line.
He hopes he will have time to see his wife, Becky, tonight. Their kids are all younger than 6, and a little girl is due in September. Finding enough time to be with them is another challenge.
When the doctor returns, he finds 24-year-old Schrock clearly in pain, her moaning sounding almost musical, as her boyfriend, Mike Welch, stands by her side.
In an hour, Buczynski knows it is time. He takes off his clean white coat, slips on safety goggles. "Let's have a baby," he says.
Schrock is pushing. Buczynski is coaching. And at 7:51 p.m., Miley - a 7-pound, 5-ounce princess - is born.
Schrock's work is done, at least for now. Buczynski's is not. A minutes-old infant covered in what looks like wallpaper paste awaits him on a warming table. He feels her head, traces his way along her spine, tests her joints, runs a finger along her palate.
"Fingers, toes, arms and nose," the doctor says. "Everything looks great. She's a cutie."
Add another patient to Ken Buczynski's booming practice.
