Thelma (I will call her Thelma here - for the purpose of my Blog I rarely if ever use patients true names to allow for privacy) is living through the late stages of her battle with cancer, and she was sent to our specialty unit for pain management. It is always important to learn something about the person, and about their life before illness - so that we can look past a broken body and connect with the spirit of the person inside. They live with the memories of their relationships and their work. I always reflect on my own experience nearly 20 years ago, when I sustained a serious neck injury and had surgery, was in the hospital and thinking to myself "but I'm a doctor."
"Thelma, I want you to think of yourself as someone living this time, not as someone waiting to die, " I said. I sensed their was something important she intended to say, and added, "you have something important to say, maybe to your daughter and maybe to us, but we want to listen to you."
And she lied there in silence, her daughter sat in silence, and my team stood in silence. And we waited. Finally she looked at me, and slowly, began talking. She had a very responsible job, quite a bit of authority in health, and she shared some of that. But then she stopped and said very slowly and very clearly (I can hear her now) " L-I - S - T - E - N and then she slowly spelled it again and then finally said the word. Listen. "
She explained that she knew that we could not make her better (she is a bright person and understood her situation very clearly) - but that when she had come in, the first evening, our staff had not listened to her. She had attempted to talk about her fears and her concerns and her pain. And they just patted her on the shoulder and told her not to worry, "everything will be OK."
She didn't need to be reassured, or told "everything will be OK," she very much knew which way things were heading. She knew that we could not cure her, and she had forgiven us that. She had forgiven God for putting her in this situation at a young age, and she was not all that fearful, yes indeed she wanted medication for her pain, but what she really wanted was for people to
" L - I - S - T - E - N. " Not to respond, not to make up something, not to do something futile, in fact not to do anything at all, but simply to LISTEN. That simple act, listening, would give her a sense of respect as a person, and let her know that we really cared.
We sat in silence for awhile. And I said finally all that I could think of saying. First "thank you," and second, we would remember this ourselves and help our staff understand more, so that as a result of her sharing, future patients would have more of a sense that we listened, and that we cared, and that they were respected.
Thelma had a smile on her face. We had not increased her morphine, we had not cured her, we had not done anything at all .............except to listen.
The simplicity of Reiki has helped "attune" me to this. There is an interesting short book "Early days of Reiki, Memories of Hawayo Takata" written by Anneli Twan. It compiles memories of Mrs Takata, who brought Reiki from Japan to North America. It is only available through the author at www.morningstarproductions.ca - from this book page 22
One of the lessons that I brought back with me from a Reiki journey to Japan, is we need more "technicians" who can help "adjust antennaes." Health care needs people with clinical skill and scientific knowledge, but we can never forget how to simply LISTEN.
Thank you to "Thelma" and to Hawayo Takata
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