"hope is the last thing ever lost"

 

Two days ago, we awoke to thick, low clouds, to ground fog, and a light mist. It was a dismal, gloomy start to the day, and it discouraged me from getting a walk in...until like magic, the clouds disappeared. Suddenly we were treated to clear blue skies, sunshine, and warmth. My reluctance to get outside quickly morphed into enthusiasm. The same thing happened yesterday. It was cloudy again, windy, and twenty degrees colder than the day before...but I didn't let it discourage me. Sure enough, by the time I tied my sneakers and donned a light jacket, the sky turned blue and the sun invited me outdoors. 

It occurred to me that this is the perfect metaphor for the course of our lives. 

"The only constant in life
is change."

~Heraclitus~

One day things seem to be going along just fine. You're all caught up with the laundry, your bills are paid, and your kids are healthy and happy...and then, in a heartbeat, everything changes, the way they changed for so many this week. For the parents who lost their children to senseless gun violence in Oregon. For families who lost everything in the floods and wildfires out West. For anyone hearing the word "cancer" from their doctor for the first time. Will the sun ever shine for them again?

Perhaps.

Maybe someone will share a memory that brings a smile to the lips of the person who is grieving. Perhaps cleanup and rebuilding has already begun. Hopefully, treatment will be successful. 

"And from the midst of cheerless gloom

I passed to a bright unclouded sky."

~Emily Bronte~

Life unfolds from day to day in unexpected ways. Some we welcome. Some bring us to tears. Our efforts to sustain a modicum of hope may be all we have to get us through. Hope that things will get better. Hope that we will survive. Hope that the strength and support we need will arrive in time. Hope that the clouds will pass and sunny skies will reappear.

"Hope is the last thing ever lost."

~Italian Proverb~

This morning, the skies are clear and the sun is shining brightly,

even though rain may be in the forecast for some of you.

jan

illness, inside and out

 

Illness should be understood in terms of its effects on the patient, both inside and out.

Within, it interrupts normal physiology and function. It alters anatomy. It causes pain. Traditionally, this has been the domain of the healer: diagnosing and treating the illness or injury by asking about symptoms, examining the patient, ordering diagnostic tests, and formulating a plan of treatment. It can all be done at the bedside.

But illness also triggers a cascade of cognitive, emotional, and psychological responses. It affects the patient’s relationships, his capabilities, his expectations, and his role in the family and community. Positive mental and emotional changes have been shown to support the ability to heal. On the other hand, negativity is believed to impede recovery. Unless we take into account the patient’s sense of self when tending to his illness or injury, we may neglect one of the most important determinants of his ability to heal.

"It may take a doctor to diagnose

someone's illness, bit it takes a friend
to recognize someone's suffering."
~author unknown~

For example, when the family's breadwinner is laid off because of illness, he loses wages. It’s possible he will lose his job, so he worries how he will support his family. Fear and uncertainty aggravate the illness. His self-respect and confidence take a punch to the gut. That’s the thing that really hurts, but he won’t tell you about it unless you ask.

"To me the ideal doctor

would be a man endowed with 

profound knowledge of life and of the soul,

intuitively divining any suffering or disorder

of whatever kind,

and restoring peace by his mere presence."

~Henri Amiel~

Or perhaps your patient is a mother with young children at home. Who will take care of them while she is in the hospital? She worries about them. She feels guilty because she can’t be there for them. She may actually lie to you in hopes of being discharged from the hospital sooner, denying the pain she still has, or pretending to be stronger than she actually feels. Her narrative is misleading.

The patient’s story extends beyond the bedside. It embraces more than his illness. One person will be crippled by it while another is healed.

We can’t understand a patient’s illness unless we understand how it affects everything and everyone around him—his family and friends. His hopes, dreams, and plans for the future. We can’t hope to heal the patient until we hear his whole story.

“The doctor may learn more about the illness
from the way the patient tells the story
than from the story itself.”
~James B. Herrick~

jan