I have sometimes wanted to blog about my patients. Holt! Besides being illegal, nobody would want their personal anecdotes and medical issues publicized on the internet for everyone to read. Without mention of names or other personal identifiers, I still believe the colorful commentary of my patients could unmistakenly at times by associated with the folks about whom I am writing. It is a slippery slope I know I should avoid. That said, many of my patients inspire and effect me in ways they'll never know, and it is this connection I would like to acknowledge.
In twelve years of patient care I have gathered experiences that have made me into a better physical therapist. I have learned about diagnoses, treatments, what works and what doesn't, how to motivate, how to teach. Yet, there's another kind of experience I have been collecting over the years in watching how people and their families handle their illnesses and predicaments. A bit selfishly motivated, I admit, I instinctually collect these experiences in hopes that I may retrieve them at a later time should life take me down a similar path. Like files stored in a computer, I wonder if I can remember and pull out a particular patient's story and better cope with my own aging parents, my own illness, or the sickness of a loved one.
"Don't get old", my patients often tell me. "It's not for the weak!" "Yeah, ok, I'll try", I chuckle back. I think we all ponder how best to age gracefully and grapple with how much we really have control over the process. Most people would agree that eating well, exercising, not smoking, sunscreen, and leading a healthy lifestyle can contribute to gentler aging. At least, that is what I hope, as I make efforts to do all of the above. Despite this action plan, things can go wrong. I have friends who've had a parent die of lung CA despite a smokeless and physically fit lifestyle. I have known people with perfect blood pressure and no past medical history to have had a stroke. In my field, I am reminded daily that illnesses and injuries befall all walks of life and don't discriminate. I remember being struck by the incongruity of a patient who was formerly a prominent neurosurgeon, who had a lovely wife, and lived in a beautiful gated home which I always thought looked like a castle. Now he fumbled around, demented, needing guidance to rise from a chair. No one is immune to misfortune. In watching others play the hand they are dealt, I hope to continue to learn to accept what is handed to me.
Aging will bring to each of us a unique challenge. Does getting old equal arthritic knees and hips, weak hands that no longer can open a jar, shortness of breath walking out the front door, trouble with balance? As my patients talk to me about their pains, I often have a moment, where I take a deep breath and notice that I am without pain. I want to be aware of what it is like to live without pain because someday I may not know what that feels like. As I demonstrate a balance activity, I become acutely aware of my own stability as I lend a hand to guard my stumbling patient. I feel my lungs, chest, and ribs expand effortlessly as I educate my pulmonary patients on how to relax and breath. My patient's have taught me to appreciate being healthy.
I have seen patients in all kinds of living arrangements. Some are wonderfully independent in accessible homes. Some live in grand old houses with winding staircases but are confined to a wheelchair. There are homes with elevators, tiny 1 room apartments, and dirty places. Some thrive in positive nurturing environments provided for by families or friends. Some have 24 hour aides who care for them as though they were kin. Some get by alone, some have no children, and others move to assisted living. Some have a friendly neighbor who brings in their paper every morning, or offers to pick something up for them at the grocery store. Some have a relative who helps with a weekly shower, maybe out of genuine concern, maybe out of obligation. What will be my arrangement when I am old, I wonder? Who will want to help me and will it be out of love or obligation? My patient's have taught me we all live within certain circumstances to which we must adapt.
"It can always be worse" my patient's often remark as they reflect on their own illness or condition. It is very true. Knee replacements, hip fractures, congestive heart failure, brain CA, a minor stroke leaving you with slight leg weakness, a major stroke stealing your ability to speak, colostomies, COPD, dementia. What would you pick if you had to pick one? I am inspired by my patients who are coping with new diagnoses and changes in well being. I listen as they reveal their anger and annoyance at their loss of independence, self sufficiency and needing to adapt to new lifestyles. I have listened to patient's families as they talk about hardships juggling their own lives and their ailing loved ones. For the most part, people cope, they learn to bargain, they learn to get by each day. Many rely on faith and I find that those who do, have an easier time coping....it is just an observation. My patient's have taught me that illness is not just a physical problem, but a state of mind
Whether we carve our own destiny or we are meandering down a path that is already made is an interesting discussion. While we can't know now what is in store for us in our later years or who will be around to help us, I have learned to appreciate each day that I and my loved ones are healthy and without pain. I recently bought a piece of stone art with a dragon fly beside some gentle beach grasses. The words "just bend" are carved into the stone. Whatever lies on my path, I hope to remember these words and remember those patients and their families whose wisdom, courage, and actions have taught me to accept, appreciate, and move foward.
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