Patients in hospital experience a wide range of emotions. Those of us who have
been “on the other side of the stethoscope” will know some of these first hand
– apprehension, fear, confusion, questioning (why has it happened to me?).
Sadly, many also experience other things – isolation, loss of control, and
depersonalization. Staff seem so busy doing their professional things
that there is no time even to acknowledge the existence of patients as human
beings.
When I was in hospital
following an operation for cancer, I experienced some very good compassionate
care, but I also experienced one of the bleakest moments of my life. Three days
post-op I had been taken to X-ray as there was a fear I had a pulmonary
embolus. It was Easter Sunday and no one was there, so I was left alone on a
stretcher whilst the duty radiographer came in. The time seemed immense, I felt
abandoned, and then my drip ran out. There was no-one to call – and then
someone in a white coat came past. The relief was enormous and I called out.
Instead of responding, she walked past with a gesture that said “you’re not my
concern”. I can still remember the feeling.
The artist Robert Pope was
a patient suffering from cancer. He painted his experiences of his time on the
wards. Some of his paintings are full of tenderness, but others (sadly many of
them concerning his encounters with doctors) convey remoteness and a lack of
love. In this one (remember he, the patient, was in the room) the medical staff
are so busy doing medical things that the patient is forgotten.
At such a time, the basic
human need is to feel secure, loved and cared for; to know that the organization
as a whole cares for him or her. Even though you may not have direct
responsibility for a particular patient, how you treat them affects them
deeply. Just an acknowledgement that they are there, as a fellow human being in
distress may bring a reassurance that takes away some of the fear that may harm
their recovery – and the reciprocation is that their warmth towards those who
care brings its own reward to our own stressful lives.
May I commend to you a
recent article in the British Medical Journal (BMJ 2008;337:a528) by David Loxterkamp
entitled A Friend in Need. The idea of friendship with patients may seem
strange to many, but as Dr Loxterkamp points out, if we can establish this
professional attitude of friendship:
“What we give our
patients—in spite of our pace and preoccupation—is a sense of connection, the
feeling that they are personally known. And to be known and loved in spite of
everything is the deepest of human desires. It grows especially keen during
illness, when patients are frightened, battered, exhausted, or hopeless, and
they suddenly realise that time is running out.”
The full text can be
accessed at: http://www.bmj.com/cgi/content/full/337/jul01_1/a528?maxtoshow=&HITS=10&hits=10&RESULTFORMAT=&fulltext=friend&searchid=1&FIRSTINDEX=0&volume=337&resourcetype=HWCIT
Please read it.
Dr John Geater
PRIME International Director
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