During my hospital rounds I met a pleasant 87 year patient who had been admitted for a quite a while. He had to go through one complication after another. Repeated surgeries and intravenous drips. His heart rates were chaotic, showing us how it responded to his physical rollercoaster of injury and repair. I met him again on his 13th day.

 

I stood by his bed side and we had a chat. His heart rhythm was back in control and he was able to breathe better and he gathered his thoughts as we weaned him off all the medications that were adding to his mental instability.

 

“ I am a little confused about the date and time at night, but overall I am feeling better.” He said.

 

“ no worries sir, I am confused with the date and time in the hospital while walking around, it happens to all of us” I replied candidly and stupidly.

 

“ how long have I been here?” he asked.

 

“ today is the day 13” I answered.

 

“ I think my wife died 3 days into my hospital stay.” He stated with clarity.

 

Silence from me. I had nothing. Shock. Do I say words of condolence? Do I stand here like the idiot that I felt I was in this moment, completely useless? The man had just lost his wife and could not even mourn her death for he was too sick to even breathe. He was fighting for his own life, let alone deal with the shattered lie that was waiting for him at home, even if he had a home to go back to ( as rehabilitation was his next big challenge).

 

Sometimes as a cardiologist or as a healer I do not always have the right words to say, and at other times I have no words. Hard to offer anything when I have no tools in the bucket in that moment, except stand there medically impotent. As a healthcare we are constantly striving to “fix” things or situations. We feel the burden of time and the pressures of institutions and systems to DO something. Give a drug, do surgery, call another consultation, or therapy treatment. If we cannot give them a pill, then give them an injection. We have to DO, DO, DO.

 

For some reason it has been ingrained in our nervous systems right from medical school training, that if we do not do something then we are useless even if it is the wrong thing. Yet it is not us that we have to treat but the patient that is solely important. And sometimes that care involves being silent and holding space.

 

And so that is what I did. I waited. I let his words resonate, not just for me but for him to hear those words out loud become manifest. For his mind to catch up to reality. His wife had passed. He was gravely ill. These were the realities that he was facing. No sugar coating, no pills to offer to calm his nervous system. He just needed time to process it all. His illness, his wife, his life, his next choices.

 

Medicine and healing is not about doing, it can be about NOT doing. IT is about BEing. After a long pause, and wait that felt briefly like eternity he came back to the conversation and we talked about his health and the next part of the treatment. He thanked us for his care, and we shuffled gracefully out of his room. I had to process what I had felt too. This is the nature of healer and “healee”. Both interactions are like energetic particles with influences that require balancing.

 

…………………

 

I love you