Category Archives: physician

On Lifelong Learning

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dsc_0522NaBloPoMo 2016, Letters to Patients, Day 13

To My Patients Who Continue to Teach Me:

I’m a better doctor, a better parent, and a better person for knowing you.  Thank you.

To the middle-aged father of five who told me about my tween son, “Just be present.  Wait for it.  He won’t use many words.  When he starts talking, put down whatever you’re doing and listen.”

To the gifted daycare director and mom of two who advised me to ‘come alongside’ the kids rather than ‘coming at’ them.

To the auntie who reassured me that all will be well if I can hang on and ride the tides of marriage.

To the psychologist who taught me mindfulness in the exam room.

To the creative who showed me that left- and right-brainers overlap more than I realized.

To every patient who loves, hates, adores, vexes, uplifts, frustrates, admires and dismisses me, you each teach me a unique and valuable lesson.

Medicine is not about knowing.  It’s about listening, watching, being, waiting, doing, and holding.

Thank you all for the privilege to learn.

May I serve you well in return.

 

 

On What You Can Do

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img_4564NaBloPoMo 2016, Letters to Patients, Day 12

To Patients Wondering What to Do:

Take this Wise Lady’s advice.

I had an inspiring conversation this week, one that lifted me up, which I sorely needed.

This incredible woman grew up in the era before women could have credit cards in their own names, before women could play organized sports, and before spousal rape was finally outlawed.  She survived brain tumor surgery and the death of her son.  She has attained advanced education, acquired innovative skills, built and sold a business.  Throughout it all she seems to have thrived.

I queried her response to adversity.  Was she born wired for resilience?  Did she acquire such effective coping skills simply by experience?  She referenced the teachings of her father.  Through her childhood, she said, he taught her to how to face difficulties.  Before she went off to college her dad had a specific talk with her:  “Here’s how you deal with problems,” he said.  “When faced with a problem, first ask yourself, ‘what can I do?’”  Not what should I do, what do others expect me to do, what would s/he/they do.  “What can I do?”  “If you can’t figure it out right away, stop.  Go outside, take a walk.  Come back and ask again, ‘What can I do?’”

Wise Lady said this one strategy got her through myriad struggles and crises in life, and she taught it to her kids the way her dad taught her.  But life flung faster, sharper arrows her way, and she had to develop additional coping tactics.  Seeking a path to clarity through the mires of crisis, she began asking herself, “What do I need to get rid of?”  And that has made all the difference since.

I will tell you, Wise Lady has a serenity about her countenance that I meet only occasionally anymore.  She has racked miles on her soul, yet I sense no cynicism or regret.  I so want to be like her!

From now on I will ask myself more often,

“What can I do?” and

“What do I need to get rid of?”

 

On Community

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NaBloPoMo 2016, Letters to Patients, Day 10

To Patients Who Feel Alone Sometimes:

Who holds you up?

Day 2 post-election, it is still positively surreal.  Monday night I saw Facebook friends post passionate, emotional, sometimes desperate pleas, urging their friends to vote one way or another.  I also saw friends acknowledging the long, strange trip, looking forward to the next chapter, expressing both relief and trepidation.  A cloud of separation hung over my heart as I read some of my friends’ words then. 

Something inside urged me to contact a high school classmate.  We did not know each other well back then, and we didn’t always like each other.  But I always felt a mutual respect.  She does not post about politics; I do…a lot.  I know we differ in many of our positions and views.  I also know her to be thoughtful, kind, ethical, and just.  I know she has a lot going on in her life right now.  Our Facebook friendship has grown the past few years, and more and more I feel a cosmic connection.  I am meant to know this person again and better, in this later phase of life.  So I messaged her privately, just to tell her I was thinking of her.  I sent hope, and wishes that we could sit down over tea, somewhere cozy, and share our lives—slowly, thoughtfully, kindly, lovingly.  Turns out my little message helped hold her up yesterday.  On this day of anxiety and tension, hope and uncertainty, this long-distance connection gives me strength and peace.  It reminds me of a recent article by the Dalai Lama on our need to be needed.

I’ve said and written so often that I’m so grateful for my tribe(s), the communities that surround and support me in everything I do.  When I see patients, I make it a point to ask about emotional support networks. They don’t have to be vast or deep.  They just need to be strong and reliable.  No matter what our station, our illness, our cultural origin, or our political leaning, we live longer, healthier, happier, and easier when we connect with others.  It can be many, often, and deep.  It can be few and intermittent.  It just has to be meaningful and enough.

Lastly, supportive relationships function best when they are also reciprocal.  I don’t mean quid pro quo.  I mean mutual, shared, communal, uncalculated support.  I ask patients, “Do you have enough people you know you can turn to, people who will be there for you, in times of personal crisis?”  I want so much for you to answer without hesitation, “Yes, definitely, no question.”  Then I can relax about your health.  You (all) got this.