Photos, sometimes with Commentary, from a lay Catholic.
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Bleak House

Looking back at some reflections I had in August 2009 but never published.

A Bench in the Shade

"Hearts are worn in these dark ages... Night has fallen among the living and the dying..."
    lyric from Words on Fire, Sarah McLachlan
"Cast me gently into morning, for the night has been unkind."
   lyric from Answer, by Sarah McLachlan


Things are tough all over. And I really have no idea. People caught up in themselves. Distracted by the unimportant and petty. The downright trivial. We surround ourselves with sounds, noise to shut out the sound of our own conscience. We look for others to confirm us in our self-centered, self-gratifying pursuits. Denial and self-sacrifice are foolish concepts, with little meaning for those who wish to find their way to the top of something they don't understand.

Behind all the clamoring is pain. Painful isolation. Painful misgivings. Painful, mournful, loneliness. Painful guilt.

It could be ruinous to pause, to stop, to be quiet, to listen, to listen again.

Today I saw several people who have undergone a difficult treatment for cancer. They can't work because they are not healthy enough to be in a workplace around other people. I saw a man and his wife who were frustrated that, although they woke early and drove several miles to an appointment, part of their appointment was cancelled because they got stuck in traffic, and his blood counts aren't healthy enough to have the treatment that might make him better. He had to hear from 3 different sources that if he had arrived on time, things might have been different. The implication was that he should have gotten here on time. And I suppose he should have. But maybe fatigue, fear, and a lack of confidence that it would do any good, kept him from meeting our expectations. So he heard about his failure to be on time from those who are supposed to care, and supposed to heal.

I saw a woman who has pain in her eyes that she described as shards of metal scratching every time she blinks. She is taking strong pain medicines that do not make the pain go away and only help a little.

I saw a woman who has lost 10 more pounds in a short period of time despite her efforts to eat. She was so fatigued and is feeling really badly.

I saw a woman who has new symptoms, and is worried that after breast cancer followed by leukemia she may have yet another serious medical problem. She has children that she is trying to get ready for school this fall. She is trying to get children ready not just for school, but possibly for life without her...

I saw a 26 year old man whose leukemia has resisted all our treatments and is progressing despite our best efforts. There are areas all over on his most recent tests that light up with cancer: in his liver, abdomen, leg, arm, neck, head, and eye. He began having new pain last night in his shoulder. Pain that is much worse than any he's had recently... a bad sign. He weighs 45kg and is 5'10". He has graft versus host disease in his skin causing areas of inflammation, along with severely dry and flaky areas that increase his risk for infection.  The soles of his feet are so tender he can't walk on them. He can't get comfortable because his shoulder is hurting him. A heated flannel blanket helps a little. We review things, the very few options that he has, and the risks they pose to his already very fragile state. He is a nice kid. A really nice kid. His mother is with him. She is quiet. He has been very independent, managing his treatment and appointments like a real man. She is with him because he can't drive now.

So when you ask me how I am, I may be a little tired. But I am fine. I am better than fine. I am fantastic. I have every reason to believe I will be fantastic tomorrow, too. And so is my family.

So let me ask you. How are *you*?



Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Helping Others

Seedlings

I saw a man with his wife today. In the past month he has developed symptoms, undergone testing, and been told he has at least one, or maybe two cancers that have metastasized to other organs in his body. He is very uncomfortable. He experiences pain regularly, and it has gotten worse. He is frustrated because the specific cancer(s) he has are not identified yet. We will determine the type, and he will have a clear diagnosis with treatment recommendations soon. It's serious. On top of this, he has no insurance, and is unable to work because of his illness. His wife does not have a job and is busy trying to take care of him. They are both very stressed by their circumstances, and all that it means. We discover he has no insurance and reassure him that we will get our social worker and financial assistance staff to meet with him. We will treat him. We will help. His wife's lip quivers, and a tear quietly rolls down her cheek. He is trying to be brave, but breaks down and weeps finally. Now they both cry. His wife says it is because he is not used to receiving help, and now he clearly needs help. It is a blow to him. He is grateful, but it is so hard to accept. He is overwhelmed by everything.

It is so important that we show compassion to others. We have no idea what their lives are like, what pressures, what disappointments, what challenges and heartaches they are experiencing. We all need help. We all need each other.

Filtered Light