faith in humanity

 

Every so often we cross paths with someone who restores our faith in humanity. Someone who offers a helping hand, a kind word, or generous support. It is especially meaningful when it is unexpected, unearned, or undeserved. If you are feeling a little cynical about the way life is unfolding around you, it can come as a welcome relief, like the reuniting with an old friend. A reminder that there is goodness in the world, after all. If it happens in the health care setting, it is especially noteworthy. It can be a be a reason for hope. A source of healing. A soft place to land for a while when the news is bad.

I witnessed it twice this past week.

In the first instance, I accompanied a friend and her husband (who was recently diagnosed with one of those oppositional-defiant cancers that requires super-specialized treatment) to their first appointment with a surgical oncologist at Johns Hopkins. She will be leading a whole team of experts in the complicated and treacherous 8-10 hour procedure he will undergo...provided the pre-operative chemotherapy and radiation prove effective in mitigating the progression of his cancer.

She outlined the treatment plan in general, its risks, and the prognosis from a surgical standpoint. When she was finished, she offered to track down the radiation oncologist and the medical oncologist to see if their schedules would allow them to stop by and introduce themselves. Now, mind you, this is Hopkins. It's a very busy place. And we didn't have an appointment with either of them. Nevertheless, they both carved out time from their hectic schedules, and they both came by. Not just to say hello. Both of them took time to explain exactly when, where, and how they would be involved in the process. They did it without a hint of impatience, annoyance, or resentment, even though they probably missed lunch, and ended up way behind schedule that day because of us. Each of them took their time, answered our questions, and extended encouragement and reassurance. They were attentive, caring, and knowledgeable. We left feeling as though we were armed and ready to take on this formidable enemy.

"Nobody cares how much you know

until they know how much you care."

~Theodore Roosevelt~

Later in the week, at 4:00 PM on Friday afternoon to be precise, I was meeting with my oral surgeon and dentist who had called earlier in the week to cancel a major procedure that was scheduled for next week. I had no idea why, and frankly, it made me a little anxious. I figured something was wrong. Understand that this was an after-hours consultation on a Friday, and my dentist had to navigate rush hour traffic to meet me at the surgeon's office. 

"Self-sacrifice is the

noblest benevolence."

~Imam Ali~

But this is the thing. They called me in to discuss a possible misunderstanding. Perhaps a miscommunication. They wanted to be certain I knew what I had signed up for because they had discussed slightly different approaches to the problem, and were anticipating performing slightly different procedures. It's no wonder I was a little confused when I signed on. So were they. That said, we clarified all the details, and once we were all on the same page, we agreed to reschedule.

Intuiting that there might be a problem, they went out of their way for me. They made time for me. They didn't hand it off to the dental assistant or receptionist. They didn't decide for me; they included me in the discussion. Like the team at Hopkins, they were patient, thorough, and knowledgeable. Kind. Helpful. Present.

These two encounters reminded me that, even though many of us believe our healthcare system is broken, compassion, kindness, and the ethics of excellent care reside with the provider...not with our corporate taskmasters, insurers, or pharmaceutical marketeers. Not with any CEO, CFO, or COO. Not with litigators. With us.

We have a duty as healthcare providers, and we take an oath that attests to it. 

The Hippocratic Oath

 We pledge:

"I will comport myself and use my knowledge in a godly manner."

 

"I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug."

The ethical, moral, and humane practice of medicine is our sacred duty, or it should be. It is a gift we give...and sometimes, one we receive. I was lucky enough to witness this unfolding with my friends at Johns Hopkins this past week, and I was grateful to experience it, myself.

Never underestimate the healing power of kindness, compassion, and trust.

"The work of your heart,

the work of taking time to listen, to help,

is also your gift to the whole of the world."

~Jack Kornfield~

jan