Working in a busy surgery is not easy. Having to deal with different issues, and with very upset patients, many times does not make this job easy either. Some days I get so tired and exhausted. Some days I feel I am not appreciated enough. I know, it is nothing personal. It is because of so much bitterness, anger and sadness in some people’s lives,that they can’t help but vomit that bitterness on the first person they come across to.
So I tell myself.So i believe.
One day I was registering a new patient: a very young woman who left me heartbroken for days afterwards. The patient is a Doctor herself with a rare bone cancer metastasis which left me speechless. I didn’t know what to say to this woman. Do I say sorry? Get well? or why… Nothing! I was so quiet while I was carrying on with the health check, and let her do all talking. With few years perhaps to live she was so optimistic, positive and looked so fresh and strong as I hardly could believe what is she was going through.
Scanning different letters from the hospitals (into patient records) with lots of problems, illness and different diagnoses, makes me think that everyone is fighting the battle on their own. Hard and tough battle!
Young patients with cancer. Others with depression, motor neuron disease, dementia, ADHD, Alzheimer’s, family problems, divorces, social problems, gives me more strength to cope and be more understandable. Day by day I see people get better, get worse and sadly for some, last we hear of them is coroner’s office letter, or the last call on their behalf. And then I never see more of them, but just keep memories. No matter how hard I try not to get sad and not carry anything from the surgery in my private life, this is not possible. Somehow in one or another way they become part of my life, and when they pass away I do get emotional and sad.
Years ago an old women used to come, every time telling me the same story over and over again, how she was abused by her bully husband all her life, how he was a womanizer and not good to her, while her old husband used to sit in the waiting room and laughing as hard as he could, feeling proud of his macho days in the past. “He beat me up, she would continue with the saddest talk I’ve ever heard. Their son who looked very well after both of them laughed too about his mother’s endless speech. I was never sure if he was ashamed of his mother’s talk bringing up all her hard times from the past, or he felt sorry for his old frail mothers past and sometimes laughed hysterically. Mr. and Mrs. C grew old together ‘til one day, that old black charming women who I adored, dropped dead in the hospital without being able to get her husband to beg for her forgiveness or anybody else’s. Peacefully passed away in matter of minutes. I was so sad as she was my favorite patient and I never could hide that. I was her favorite too as she never wanted to speak to anyone else before asking to speak to me first. I miss her still. I miss her Jamaican accent and her sense of humor. Her husband Mr. C passed away shortly after. And I miss many of them. Some of them I see every week.Just coming,greeting me,with “love are you all right”and they go without giving me any hustle.
We are not the only witness of their pain, their battle and their end. Taking our life for granted many times I try to understand who is in more difficult situation? The one with cancer, the one with motor neuron disease, MS, or the one with Alzheimer’s? Puts me to the hardest test, but gives me the strength and I appreciate more and more life. And the answer is hard to find. They all bad and difficult. We don’t get to choose anyway. Rich or poor, it is only God’s choice. We have very old patients who would come so many times to the desk just to have a little chat with me. They are so lonely and sad. The saddest time for me is Christmas when they bring presents for us, many time followed with tears in their eyes as they will have to spend theirs on their own, without family and friends.
I won’t forget beautiful elegant old French Lady, with the most divine taste for fashion, Mrs. A.E. With her ash-grey hair blend, when 2 years ago brought me violet lilac wrapped up with the red bow. I still can smell those stunning flowers from my balcony. She brought them to me, wishing me a Merry Christmas and left the surgery in tears as that year she had to spend it all by herself. And we all know how emotional we get during those seasons and celebrations. Yesterday I had a Lady J.J coming to the desk holding 2 boxes of medications, asking me what is she supposed to do with them. When I looked, one was an antibiotic untouched that was given at the beginning of August. I told her she should take them immediately the day she seen a doctor as it is meant to treat her infection. She kept repeating not even listening to a word I said. “I still have a smelly urine”, she kept repeating as everyone in a waiting room could hear. She started pulling her trousers, but stopped as I told her not to do that she gets in doctor’s room. Sad as it can be. Phone went crazy, ringing and ringing. I had other patient on hold and another one waiting to speak to me. To make the situation worse another old lady Mrs. E.M. with the memory problems came on the desk going on and on. Oh not you I thought, when I saw her as I knew it will get worse for me to cope with double trouble. I was trying so hard to keep my fake smile. So the conversations didn’t end, me explaining, they asking. I told both of them, please take a seat as I will do my best to solve the problem. After a few minutes to my amusement I hear to old Ladies Mrs. J.J. And Mrs. E.M. who never met before, having a flawless conversation in the waiting room, laughing and understanding each other perfectly well. It broke my heart. They seemed so happy. All they needed was talk. Talk to someone. They didn’t need doctors help as much as they needed talking to someone. Mrs. J.J. tall blonde elegant English Lady and Mrs. E.M. shorter plump blonde English too, with all purple and pink colours on her, beautifully combined, didn’t stop talking until the doctor called one of them in the room. For a moment life went decades back. Not mine. Theirs. I imagined them being young and beautiful, wearing summer dress in the heat of summer day playing in the park with their kids and their husbands. Full of joy and life. Doctor called again, as Mrs. J.J. hesitated to go in doctor’s room this time because she was enjoying conversation with a new friend on the same wave of life. Sadness appeared again on their eyes. They don’t need doctors help so much. They need someone to listen. They have need of talk. They want to tell a story, unspoken story of a rotten memories. Their life was beautiful some time ago. But they don’t remember anymore. Or no one is there to listen? I felt so ashamed of myself, for not letting them talk to me. Instead of explaining, letting them finish. I will try to understand more next time and explain less. They won’t have listened to my explanation anyway. I know is not easy in a very busy clinic, but I promise I will try. It is not easy being patient when five things going on at the same time. Is definitely not. But I will try. My best, and my purest. Honestly, charity is in front of me and giving some time to old and frail is the greatest charity I can do. Will please me, will make them happy. They lose the memory, but they don’t forget smiley face. They can feel your kindness, my kindness. Hippocrates oath should be sacred not only to doctors. Should be ethical code for all humans. Kindness can heal to. Hippocrates of Kos or Hippocrates of all in need. Sooner or later we will cross that path; alone, sad and in need of a good cup of English tea,perhaps with a family member or a friend.