Exchanging places
How are you feeling today? the doctor asks the doctor. Nothing unusual in this scenario except the other one is the patient.
Role reversal is something you never wish for or can ever get used to if you have been accustomed to being the person in charge. As difficult to imagine or even accept, the only way we can be better or more aware of what we do or come to terms with who we are is to experience things we never thought we would go through and survive.
Posting the question on how it felt to be under the care of an attending and not be the attending, my colleagues did not hesitate to share. What followed were exchanges made more meaningful by being honest and real.
Helpless, accepting of one’s fate, worried for family, depressed, vulnerable, in denial, defiant, anxious, needy, isolated, ambivalent. Central to most of the conversations was the difficulty of acknowledging that one was dependent on others. This realization was at times as hard to swallow as the initial diagnosis.
“You can never really be the same again.“ This was from one who had survived a massive heart attack. After having gone through intense physical pain and a lifesaving procedure that at best may buy time but pose no guarantees, he can honestly say he knows how it feels to be the one sitting on a wheelchair, or how it feels to be flat on your back on a cold hospital gurney awaiting your turn at the OR and just how much needles hurt. It got him thinking about the numerous blood extractions, injections, and intravenous insertions that were all part of his orders in the past. The experience was a tutorial on mindfulness and a reminder to deep dive into one’s capacity on how to be more compassionate and learn to truly empathize. Knowing that a repeat is a possibility, he now consciously chooses to be more grateful and thankful for the blessings received, all because life still brings more good than bad and is sweeter with second chances.
“To be able to open your eyes and wake up every morning was more than enough blessing during the early days of the pandemic when no one had the answers.” This was from another colleague who understood how it felt to be confined, free from human contact, and uncertain about what the day could bring. With no one to talk to, his source of comfort unexpectedly came from a little feathered friend who made certain he knew that he wasn’t alone. Like clockwork, he would land on the same spot outside his window, mornings and evenings as if to say in bird language, “I am here!“ It was a constant presence until his discharge and one cannot help but think if it was God’s way of telling him to just surrender, trust, and believe that He finds ways to make you feel his deep compassion.
Are we one of the worst patients to have? With no science-based evidence to back this up, I will choose to dissect why so from a very personal point of view. Maybe it is because we go into autopilot whenever a case comes up, and needing solutions, to self-diagnose is a given. Maybe it is because it is harder to accept we are no longer in control, or maybe it is because to fall ill is an unexpected holiday we cannot afford.
Whether this is a shot at explaining future or past behaviors, the sole intention of writing this piece is to let you in. As to the why, it came from a pressing need to help improve the patient-doctor relationship through one strategy that everyone is capable of working at. It’s all about how to be better at expressing and communicating that we hear you, we feel you, and we are here for you.
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