Posted by Mark Trost under
February 2007 | Tags:
Culture,
Healthcare |
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The last couple of years I’ve had a series of health problems. Now I’m well and I’m healed. I’ve lost weight and I’ve quit smoking. I’m often asked how I found the courage and the fortitude and the endurance (Ok actually the exact question is: How’d ya do it?) And I’ve always replied: I’ve rediscovered discipline. I’ve remembered what was important. And I’ve remembered there’s an order of importance. And I’ve made myself adhere to that ordinance.
I’ve spent a great deal of time in waiting rooms and I’ve made a few observations while sitting there. I’ve met people. I’ve talked to people. I’ve listened to people. And I’ve learned from people. Most people don’t want to get well. Most people don’t want to heal. Most people are afraid.
As a man grows older, he says goodbye to more things more often. His circles of friends and relatives diminish because of death or because of migrations. 
And in direct proportion so does his circle of concern. Everything becomes more about him. He has more to be concerned about but fewer who share his concerns. When coupled with the fact that as he ages his body starts to decay, he needs more attention but finds fewer places to receive that attention. On the street he is unnoticed. On a street he’s not greeted. On a street no one knows his name.
Yet he is able to receive attention at a doctor’s appointment. At a clinic, it’s about him. At a clinic, they listen to him. At a clinic, they care for him and care about him. They look at him. They speak to him. They greet him by his name. Now as he heals, that access reduces. And then it’s back to the place where he was before. That place that held those bad habits. That place where he was alone.
Transversely as the health problems increase, so does the access to that care. And as trauma is approached, the circle of those who are concerned about the patient increases. He has more influential people caring about him in greater numbers until finally, the patient is the center of attention. I’ve heard so many people list a litany of their prescriptions as if they were battle commendations. They say that fame is more addictive than narcotics. Sometimes I worry that the healthcare crisis in America is more sociological than physical or financial. Perhaps laughter isn’t the best medicine; kindness is. And that shouldn’t be solely required from the healthcare field. It is required from society.
If you want to bring down the costs of healthcare in America – smile. Greet. Engage. You’re carrying a telephone everywhere you go. Call your parents and inquire how they are. Visit them. While waiting for a bus, or walking down a path, or shopping in a store - say hello to someone for Christ’s sake. Quit looking past them as if they don’t exist or staring at the sidewalk so you don’t have to meet their eyes. Put down your cell phone and talk to the human being who is standing beside you. You’re not standing beside just anyone. That’s someone. Say hello. It’s not too much to give. How much loneliness did you expect him to take?
February 27, 2007
He has such an enthusiasm for his profession. He is so generous with his time. No appointment is hurried. No question is unanswered. No fear belittled. No ignorance uneducated. All of his attributes are the cornerstones of a fantastic physician.
