For Holly

https://pritzker.uchicago.edu/news/honoring-legacy-dr-holly-j-humphrey

Our friend, leader, and role model has passed.

What a surreal moment of sadness, reflection, slowing, and conviction.

I always knew you as simply Holly, not “Dr. Humphrey.”  The latter was a given and absolutely respected; it just felt too distant a title for how you showed up as program director to us residents.  Our respect for and deference to you was not commanded, demanded, or condescended by you.  It was a natural consequence of your presence: attuned, caring, earnest, authentic, and integrous.  Your essence emanated teacher, leader, mentor, steward, and patron.

I never knew you closely, but I felt known by you.  And that was enough.  Those three years were grueling and also bonding.  The culture you set of caring and encouragement, of looking after one another and always being on the same team, filtered through the chief residents, senior residents, and interns, so that we (when we had the bandwidth) could show caring and encouragement to the medical students.  Back before work hour restrictions existed, this was significant.  The University of Chicago Internal Medicine Residency Program was known as one of the most collegial and compassionate in the country, as well as one of the most rigorous and accomplished.  The longer I practice, the more I observe corporate and academic cultures from various perspectives, the more I appreciate and marvel at that incredible integration, at the uniquely holistic community of my training.  I knew it at the time; did not take it for granted.  And yet even now, more than twenty years out, the lasting impact on my own ethos and those of my classmates continues to move me.  I am so proud and grateful to have the privilege of calling myself a UofC IM graduate.

Reading the long list of initiatives, accomplishments, and accolades attributed to you after my time at UChicago ended, my psyche swells with pride for you, vicarious gratitude for all whom your programs touched, and inspiration to make my own contribution in kind.  Your mission and impact, as I understand from afar, was always to not only lift others directly, but show us all how to lift one another.  You were a leader of leaders—you helped us all identify and call forth that within each of us that would help make one another better.

What an honor and privilege to have shared even such a brief moment of this lifetime with you, Holly.  Those three years of residency, though short, were transformative.  Looking back, I was definitely not my best self at that time.  I cringe, and then I imagine how you might have counseled me, with honesty, compassion, and conviction to be my better self.  You empowered us through your confidence in us.  You held us accountable to a standard of conduct that made us worthy of our integrity.  Your leadership helped shape our character as clinicians and citizens of the profession.

Your life and memory are blessings on all who knew you. 
May we honor you and the impact you had on us all by carrying on the work you so bravely and generously began in innovative and connecting ways–the work of deepening compassion, inclusion, excellence, and humaneness in medicine.

Healing Through Connection Turns 10 This Month

Dear Friends,

Oh my goodness. It’s been a decade. Holy cow. I’m in the feels, people.

I published the very first post here on April 14, 2015, The Premise. Reading it again now (I can’t remember the last time I read it), I’m proud that I can still stand firmly and proudly behind every sentence. At that time, I had only begun to speak nationally on physician burnout and well-being, culminating in multiple memorable and rewarding collaborations until right before the pandemic. That work carries on now without my direct participation, still championed by colleagues whom I admire more than words can express. My own work in wellness has since touched other professions including design, law, and state and federal judiciaries. How humbling to be invited into these spaces; what a privilege. Every opportunity teaches me, broadens my perspective, and reinforces my Premise:

“Patients and physicians have control over one thing above all else: our relationship with each other.  Relationships live and die by communication.  Barriers on the obstacle course of patient-physician communication loom large and formidable. Our system fails us over and again. And it falls to each of us, not the system, to find our way to connection and healing relationships.”

I thought our healthcare system was broken a decade ago; and here we are, worse off still in too many ways to count. Now more than ever, it is our relationships that will save us. It’s another paradox, connection: So important and fundamental, such a necessity, and also kind of mundane. It can happen in the smallest of moments–a glance, a fleeting facial expression, a passing vibe, a shared language–which can be lifesaving and also taken for granted. It can also require collossal effort–tremendous self-restraint, courage, and tenacity–to achieve it across deep and complex conflict and separation. I submit that both/all forms of connection are equally valuable and necessary for us humans to thrive. The longer I live, learn, practice, and write, the more I believe this to my bones.

It did not occur to me until today to do something big and special for my 10th blog birthday. Honestly I had thought of sunsetting the whole thing before the renewal date rolled around last month. But since I had not made any plans or decisions, I paid the fee and here we are.

So let’s have some fun this month, eh?

I think I’ll try to post daily. Nothing too labor intensive, no obligations, no rules. It’s my birthday party and I’ll write if I want to. I have 100 drafts waiting to expand and engage, four occurring just in the space of this morning’s commute.

It really is all about Connection: This blog, medicine, health, wellness, relationships, life.

How ironic: The world feels more divided and polarized, separated and divergent now than I can remember in my lifetime. And yet in my life personally, I feel more connected to people everywhere now than ever. What is that about? How fascinating and wonderful! Let me attempt to explore it and share in the next 28 days, yes?

Healing Through Connection. Connecting in all possible ways, for the good of us all. It’s what we live for, I’m convinced. So let’s dive in, celebrate, and see what emerges! Oh, this could be fun. See you tomorrow!

Love,
Cathy

“You’re Fine.” Not.

I feel unwell.

–You’re fine.

No really, I’m not myself.

–You’re fine.

But my life is being disrupted by how I feel: Unwell. Not myself!

–But the tests are all normal. I can’t figure it out. Therefore you must be fine.

Why won’t you listen to me? It feels like you don’t care.

–[It’s not that I don’t care.]
–[My training has not taught me now to cope with things I cannot solve.]
–[The system rewards me for more encounters, more tests, and not necessarily more thought, presence, patience, empathy, compassion, or humility.]
–[The culture of my profession resists uncertainty, vulnerability, and holistic complexity.]

[Maybe I really am fine; am I just imagining the unwell?]

–[I wish I had time to sit with folks… to find and ask better questions, to observe, to really listen… to show the care that I felt called to give back when I started…]


I feel unwell.

–Please, tell me more…
–Hmmm. That’s interesting–some things fit together, others don’t.
–Here’s what I’m thinking; let’s do this; talk soon.

I’m still unwell. And here’s what’s happening now.

–Huh. Fascinating. Tests all look normal. Something doesn’t fit.
–Tell me more, again?
–This is not like you. We have not seen this before for you. I actually don’t see this in general. Huh. Then again, some of this fits exactly with how I know you.
–Okay next steps; talk soon.

Gaaah, still unwell! What is going on?

–I’m so sorry. Let’s review again, please?
–[What am I missing, not seeing? Do I need to get closer up or further back?]
–OK time to get help. [Who has a different perspective and can really broaden mine here?]

–You’re not fine.
–But how are you still okay? Let’s maintain that, and still work on the unwell.

–I’m here. With you. I’m not going anywhere. And we will keep getting other help.
–We will get through it.
–Together.