Unity Across Difference

NaBloPoMo 2020 – Today’s Lesson

Tonight we pray for the injured Northwestern Wildcat football player.

What place has prayer in sports?  I don’t take a position here; I’m wondering. 

NU played Michigan State today.  Two players collided head on.  The Wildcat went down and did not get up.  The medical team attended immediately and Hubs saw the C-collar come out, never a good sign.  After several more minutes, it appeared the whole team gathered on the field in a still, vigilant scrum.  Heads bowed, hands grasped shoulders.  They’re praying, I realized. 

For better or worse, my first reaction was to wonder if that was okay with everybody on the team.   Do you think it was for better, or for worse?  Why?  Why do I even wonder about the distinction?  I assign it as neither (or both)—I choose simply to observe it, hold it with curiosity and not judgment.  I may entertain various stories about it, perhaps accepting all somewhat and none fully.

A second later I felt reassured, even inspired.  I don’t know anything about NU Football team culture.  I choose the story, however, that it’s the kind in which anyone asked to gather and express solidarity with a fallen teammate does so without hesitation.  “I will pray for your healing,” and, “Please pray for me,” said earnestly by a faithful player to an atheist one, can be received as an expression of caring and a request for support, respectively, rather than impositions of one’s beliefs on the other.  We bow our heads and grasp each other’s shoulders to show reverence and cohesion.  When one of us is hurt, traumatized, or otherwise suffering, it shouldn’t matter what religion we practice or not. 

We help however we know how.  Because we are a team.

November 10:  Experimental Questions Make Me Better

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NaBloPoMo 2019

What’s the most interesting question your doctor asks?  What effect does it have on you?

I get to ask some really fun and interesting questions of my patients.  They often come about spontaneously, then I realize how helpful they are, and I integrate them into my routine interview.

It was almost ten years ago now that I was seeing a pleasant young woman for the third time.  She had recurrent, nonspecific physical symptoms, and felt down.  She was having a really hard time at work, and it was having a significant impact on her overall health and well-being.  Around the same time I saw another patient, a young man.  He felt well overall, but was also not happy in his job.  I remember casting around in my mind, looking for a quick and easy way to quantify the negative effect of these patients’ negative work experiences on their health.  I can’t remember which visit sparked the 0-10 stress and meaning scale questions, but it was one of them, and then I repeated the questions on the other soon after.  These were my first two, unsuspecting, experimental question subjects.  On a scale of 0 to 10, how high do you rate the overall stress of your work?  That was easy, but I also had to figure out whether there was some benefit that was worth the cost of the stress.  So: On the same scale, how high do you rate the overall meaning of your work to you?  The bottom line is that we can tolerate very high levels of stress if the work is meaningful—for sustainable work, the meaning-to-stress ratio needs to be 1 or greater, and overall meaning is best at 7 or higher.  That year I realized I could create deeper, more helpful, more insight-revealing questions in my patient encounters.

My own work meaning rating rose by at least a couple integers almost immediately.

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Since then I have consistently asked about body signs of stress, resilience practices, the proportions of threat vs. challenge stress at work or home.  Since I last wrote about these questions in 2016, I have continued the experiments.

By 2016 I was also using the elite athlete analogy with my patients, asking every year about habits in the 5 reciprocal domains of health (after talking about stress and meaning at work): Sleep, Exercise, Nutrition, Stress Management, and Relationships.  But after asking the same questions for a couple years in a row, both my patients and I get a little bored.  So in 2017 I went a little deeper in the relationships category.  After confirming marital status, ages and health of children, I started asking, “Tell me about your emotional support network,” because the more I am reminded of the critical importance of emotional support in our health, the less it makes sense to not ask about it directly.

With each additional set of questions, I learn more about my patients. I learn how people understand the questions—sometimes it’s totally different from my own understanding, and the conversation about the meaning and objective of my asking gives me wonderful insights into people.  Patients are remarkably open and honest in their answers, which always reminds me of the honor and privilege of my role as physician.  The answers to these questions are what allow me to imagine my patients in their natural habitats, engaging with their work and the people in their lives.  The answers provide context and texture to the other patterns we uncover in health habits, and we often come together to a better understanding of both the origins and consequences thereof.  I can’t speak for my patients, but I always come away feeling just a little more connected.  I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

This year I’m excited to introduce 4 new questions.  It started out as three.  The third one wasn’t landing quite right initially.  I wasn’t asking what I meant, and I couldn’t quite articulate what I was after.  So I experimented with the wording until I got to the current state:

  1. In the coming year, what do you see as the biggest threat to your health?
  2. What is the biggest asset?
  3. Having answered these, how does this affect your decision making going forward? …And other iterations I can’t remember anymore
  4. One year from now, when we meet again, what do you want to look back and see/say about your health, relationships, and whatever else is important to you?
  5. (then the corollary question that occurred organically once and I then incorporated–) In order to make this vision a reality, what support do you already have or need to recruit?

I have asked these questions since July.  I always think to myself how I would answer for my patients, based on what I know about their circumstances, habits, and biometrics.  About two thirds of the time, our answers are the same.  Patients seem to receive them well, too.  One asked me to email them to him, so now I offer to email them to everybody.

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You might imagine that I think these questions make me a better physician.  That may or may not be true.  All of these questions make me better—a better, more self-aware person—because I also ask them of myself.  What is my meaning:stress ratio today?  This week?  This year?  I assess the threat/challenge ratio of my own life stressors, especially the acute ones.  I have had the same body signs of stress for many years, but in 2019 I may have developed a couple new ones, darn.  What’s the biggest threat to my health?  My hedonist impulses, no question.  The biggest asset?  My Counsel—those best friends and confidants.  What is my vision for my health a year from now?  I only answered that for myself a week ago (and I’ll keep it to myself, thank you).  And what support do I have/need?  I’m still working on that one!  That I don’t already know the answer to this one surprises me—I assumed I knew, but when I sat down to think about it formally, I realize that this may be the missing piece that holds me back from achieving some of my personal health goals.  HUH, how fascinating!  Did I not just write about how I question some of my patients’ ‘Lone Ranger’ method of self-care?  Well hello kettle, I’m pot!

Now, off to ponder some more, yay!

 

November 9:  Steady Pacing Makes Me Better

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NaBloPoMo 2019

*sigh*

I’m not a swimmer or a runner, but isn’t there something in these athletes’ training about breathing, pacing, and strategies for long distance endurance?   The last 22 days have felt like a physical, mental, and emotional marathon of sorts.  I’ll spare you the list of meetings, engagements, and tasks—you may have already read about them!  Looking back, I realize I have had to live every day in acute mindfulness, attending to whatever was right in front of me in the moment, including the unexpected.  Prioritizing was key, completing one task/event/conversation before moving onto the next.  I had to put my head down for some parts, come up for breath and a brief aerial view, then dive deep again.  Today I crossed a finish line, and I feel proud.

I started my journey with Better Angels in May of this year, at a skills workshop.  Since then I have attended two additional workshops, one that was featured on the Van Jones Show.  I committed to moderator training, and today I led my first skills workshop.  I had the honor of working with the three Wonder Women who ran the workshop back in May.  They prepared me so generously, so kindly, and I am forever grateful.

There was a hiccup, though.  When we initially arranged with the Wilmette Public Library for the event, we mistakenly told them the event would last two hours.  The workshop is designed to last 2.5 hours.  We could not change the website or registration, so we meticulously shaved 24 minutes from the schedule.  We warned participants of our impending heavy handedness on time, and dove in.  Mande and I set timers on our phones for each segment.  Mary Lynn gave me hand signals from the back of the room (though I did not always look or see).  I had the handy timeline that Sharon typed out for us all.  We ran ahead at times and behind at others, and ended right at 4:06pm, as planned.  We kept pace.  Engagement and discussion was lively, and attendees gave overwhelmingly positive feedback.  Many people stayed afterward to talk more, explore ways to get involved, and exchange information.  We were invited to present at other organizations.  Overall we felt it was a wild success.

Workshop timeline 11-9-19

Everything was a group effort these last three weeks. Each meeting, workshop, video call, or presentation, whether for the American College of Physicians, my clinical practice sites, or Better Angels, required a team of people, each with delegated and specified roles and task lists.  We all had to agree on timelines and deadlines.  Text, email, Zoom; more email and text—it felt like running through a Venn diagram of relay races, passing batons in and out of each circle as I crossed from one to another.  I had to pace myself, and also match the pace of others as I came alongside.

Having a calendar with everything written in one place definitely helped.  I keep a checklist of every task, no matter how small, and carry it with me everywhere.  Excellent hydration is key for optimal mental and physical performance—I’m always reminded when I forget.  Timely, frequent, and clear communication—need I say more?  All of these practices help me plan and maintain a steady pace, checking off the list, completing each day, each trip, each week, slowly, surely, and competently.

Now I can slow down, breathe deep, and tread more lightly for a little while.  Every athlete, even an amateur, requires rest and recovery between races.  Once again I dedicate this month of daily blogging—a quintessential practice in steady pacing—to all those who go before me, showing me how it’s done.  Thank you.