Almost there …
Many years ago, more precisely in 2005, an outcome of my participation in JICA’s (Japan International Cooperation Agency) course on the subject of intellectual “disabilities”, my life would gradually change, personally and professionally.
As a medical doctor (neurologist), whose expertise was given at a public university traditionally organicistic, working experiences in Brazil and US (part of an international exchange program) expanded the views i had about profession, strengthening philosophical perspectives of what is known and described in medical field as “medical-patient relationship.” Some would say this is a very simple equation, a “basic principle” students have to grasp and absorb very early on at medical schools.
In portuguese the word “compreensão” (comprehend in english) derivates from the french word “comprendre”, meaning what is learned through (hard) “a-prehension”, or as philosopher once said to me, as if we could grab something “with a claw”, i just recalled his words. Well, “life is full of surprises”, as the first idiomatic expression point out. That was definitely true for me, i see it now.
Working as a neurologist at The Neuropsychiatric Hospital in Rio de Janeiro, during shifts at the out-patient and in-patient services, i’ve gathered experiences that resonate to this day. Back then, mothers would approach me to ask: “Doc, what would happen to my (‘disabled’) son/ daughter when i am gone?” “Nobody lives forever” (another expression would come around me), they use to add. Haunted by desperation, those women were searching not a prescription (a “magic pill’), but “sympathetic comfort”. Words that would have given them hope and “guidance”, so to speak. They never guessed questions like that would become part of my “training outside the big walls” … In some occasions, without having acquired extra-curriculum knowledge, i admit i did not know, although the expression “doctors know best”, try to prove other way around (what a magnificent lie), many times they really don’t.
In charge of an infirmary, with fifty abandoned “severely and profound” handicapped persons, i’ve learned (the hard way) some of my specialized techniques were not enough to understand what they were going through. Later on, you’ll understand why all these experiences resonate while i’ m still writing.
Thirty-five years later, in 2014, after a lung surgical procedure and a serious infection, i was bedridden for two months in a big public hospital, of which thirty in a intensive care unit, with my life “hanging by a thread” … what a dramatic expression this is.
I would never imagine to be exposed to all sorts of things i followed through as a medical doctor. Having my life sustained sustained by highly complex procedures, including tracheostomy, mechanical ventilation and powerful amines … living an induced coma status full of dreadful continuous nightmares. “On top of that” (as if is possible to have something on the top of that experience), there was something missing: an idiomatic expression i’ve learned while living and working abroad.
One day (or night), i can’t remember quite exactly, i heard a nurse auxiliary requiring someone to “take care of a disoriented patient”: she was referring to me. The expression shocked me a lot. During the long period of my hospitalization, i longed for two simple words: “welcome back”. That was my silent desire. Put to sleep by machinery and chemicals for a month, i expected to be guided back with soft words, not those who put me apart from the societal view … I was expecting to be able to reconnect with people and grant myself the possibility of “feeling well” again.
Today, all i can say, is that i’m already planing to “get back” (what a great Beatles’ song and title) my position of a lead singer in a brazilian doctors’ classic rock band.
In this post, in my view, there are expressions we all “take for granted” (this is also a very interesting semantical expression). However, “welcome back” could be a mandatory expression health personnel to use, specially for those people whose lives were gained back, such as in “my case”. How important is to be guided through with gentle words when people need them. Today i know words are as important as everything i’ve received during the months i stayed in bed.
This is how i feel: my life was given back to me, not only by professional efforts and expertise. Today i am aware and believe that positive words does have a healthy impact on our recovery processes.
Lastly, going back to my first impressions of “medical-patient” relationships, i admit now i had something else to learn from. Going back to my working routine (planning and researching as a health promotion’ adviser at The Fiocruz Foundation), made me also think about words and idiomatic expressions. Looking back, there were possible explanations mothers were expecting to hear from me … Unfortunately, back then, i was not enough prepared for sharing what they expected. I am getting there with words ….. I am almost there !!!
Annibal Coelho de Amorim, Unique Voices, Brazil / Rio de Janeiro, Jan, 26, 2016
