Tuesday
[This week the narrator is compiling observations culled from the events of the day in an attempt to wipe out hedonophobia without resorting to such gimmicks as telethons or knock-knock jokes.]
1. The way I see it, if both my patient and I are scowling then there is no chance that anyone in the room is going to be cheered up. Someone has to take the first step and find some aspect about this current illness that is encouraging, then relay that information in a positive manner. Then perhaps like the sun popping through the clouds a smile of hope will appear on a worried face. That is the way to end an office visit.
2. On a related note, it is easy to be cynical and pessimistic in this modern age, just as it is easy to cut through a neighbor’s flower bed, or ignore a friendly dog, or criticize a child’s efforts, or decide that today would be a good day to stop learning anything new for the rest of one’s life. Anyone tempted to embrace such negativity is falling into a horrible trap. Beware! Better to stand in front of the mirror and say “I feel I am blessed with many virtues, but the only way to know for sure is to use them!”
3. There is nothing more enjoyable for oncologists than to see old patients in the office, for unlike family physicians we don’t always get to watch our patients grow old. I saw a patient today who is nine years out from diagnosis and felt like I had found my long lost brother. How sweet it is to shake the hand of one who has been cured. It produces an indescribable feeling, like being given a brief tour of heaven before being whisked back to earth.
4. When interviewing elderly patients with memory loss, do doctors ever wonder if they are headed for a similar fate? Do they ever daydream about finding themselves perched in front of a television watching daytime ads for malpractice lawyers while being spoon fed pureed green beans? All those years of success in school, all those ‘A’ grades and perfect test scores, all those triumphant debates with fellow residents, all that bestriding the narrow world like a Colossus - is it destined to end in such a pitiful way?
Hey, how do I know? I’m no psychic! But just in case our lives are floating inexorably down the river to the Gulf of Dementia I leave you with this little piece of advice from Jack London:
I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark
should burn out in a brilliant blaze
than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor
every atom of me in magnificent glow
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live
not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.
