By Dr. Peter Rosario
During the last few years of medical school, a student is frequently assigned to a particular medical or surgical service in a hospital. In my case, I was to spend several weeks with other students on the oncology (cancer) ward. One of the patients I had been given to follow was a young man just a few years younger than me. He had advanced leukemia. Although alert and cheerful, his chance of surviving this illness was slim at best.
One evening, I returned to see him for no particular reason other than to “see how he was doing.” His mother was in the room, and we spent perhaps an hour talking. I probably should have been home furiously reading about his disease but I was drawn to stay and talk. In simple fashion, my hope was to bring some comfort.
As I was leaving his mother asked if I needed a ride home. I declined the gracious offer as I lived a short distance from the medical center. Nonetheless, she insisted and being tired after a long day I agreed. I felt very sad for this mother who was watching her son steadily slip away. As we rode along, I truly did not know what to say to her. However, what she said to me is why I remember this encounter.
I suppose only a mother could discern the sense of hopelessness I felt about recovery for her son. Although unspoken, she intuitively understood my sorrow. She told me all was right; that he would be going to a place of eternal peace and happiness. It was not I who offered comfort to her. She comforted me. In a real but unknowing sense, I had returned to the room of this young man earlier that evening not to help answer what surely must have been on his mind – ”Why is this happening?” Rather, this question was for me to ask and for me to search for the answer.
There is a balance between vulnerability and invincibility. For the longest time, the paradigm for physicians (along with other healthcare professionals) was they should not show any vulnerability. This has been shown to be unhealthy. Fortunately, over time, perhaps owing to a number of actions emphasizing healthcare provider well-being, the paradigm is shifting.
Despite best efforts, I believe very few people fail to recognize when someone is putting on a “good face” but suffering inside. A sincere heartfelt inquiry into how another is experiencing life often uncovers the truth.
We all need assistance from time to time. There should be no immunity against a need for understanding and prayers. In fact, that may just be the “cure” the healthcare provider unknowingly needs for his or her well-being. Vulnerability may be therapeutic, not a sign of weakness. We must remember the healthcare-patient relationship is reciprocal. Physicians, nurses, or therapists are considered gifts to their patients and their patients are gifts to them.
I recently met a physician from another part of the state who had been very ill this past year. He had to leave his practice for several weeks for diagnosis and treatment. When he returned what he found was an overwhelming concern for him from his patients. He discovered that he’d been placed on numerous “prayer chains,” and even more surprised to learn how many of his patients were praying for his recovery.
The patients understood when appointments had to be changed or canceled altogether. They were sympathetic to the truncated office hours when he returned to his practice. It was those in need of medical care healing the healer through their prayers and understanding.
Feeling a sense of helplessness for an ill person, a healthcare provider may find it very difficult to convey bad news. This is especially so when the main message is that nothing more can be done medically. However, it is not the end of what may be given. There are always gestures of compassion and empathy to give. There are always prayers to send. Without hesitation, the flow of prayers and the expressions of empathy can and should travel in both directions.
My experience as a medical student proved not to be a one-time event. Sometimes we receive from our patients more than what we are able to give. And that’s alright.