Tonight I re-read an article in the New York Times that I saw earlier today regarding the crisis in Japan. Everyone needs to read this article. I often reflect on what it must be like to lose more than one loved one in an accident. But to lose a significant chunk of the population is far worse. As a tribute to our fellow humans in Japan, I am attaching the link which really explains hoe much trouble the country is in. Please read this article and then send some well-wishes to our friends across the ocean.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/30/world/asia/30japan.html?_r=1&hp
The damage from this catastrophe hasn't even begun to be realized. Plutonium deposits in soil and 4 leaking reactors is going to make northern Japan a dangerous place for a long time, and the cancers and illnesses which emerge in the coming years will reflect that. As a physician I am really concerned that many of us are not up to date with what is going on, or understand the ramifications of this crisis to all of us. With trace amounts of radioactive rainwater in Massachusetts this week, I fear that this is going to be one of the largest disasters we've ever experienced as a planet. So this is a plea to keep up with the news.
And if you don't think this relates to my prior posts on the human body, mind and spirit, I assure you it does. I took care of a Japanese born man this morning who has been skeptical of "Western" treatments for his hepatitis for years. After calling my attention to the article above, he then told me that he was willing to undergo whatever treatments we recommended because, "life is more important now." I asked him why, expecting him to tell me that he had been scared of his mortality by the Tsunami, earthquake and nuclear devastation which befell his home country 10 days ago. Instead he offered the following fact: his three remaining siblings were all killed their town just south of Kesennuma in the waves. While some would lose their desire to live in a time of depression, my patient wanted nothing more that to carry on. I find that inspiring and real. He represents the strength of his nation to me, and I am praying that we can clear his Hepatitis C.
It is those moments, when I am offered a simple glimpse into someone's soul, that I feel the most privileged to be a physician. Fear has so many faces, but most often is worn under a mask. In my office, on days like today, the mask is off and people are just honest with themselves and with me. When we reach that point, we trust each other, and then the patient is much more open to discussing the scary items I place on my lengthy menu of recommendations. Whether its recommending tests patients initially thought they might refuse, or lifestyle changes which are incredibly difficult to make, I have found the most success in quiet moments of revelation. At the end of the day, or a busy week, or a restless month, or someone's "bad year," what people need is to be heard and to feel understood. When my patient handed me the article he was making a plea for some level of appreciation as to what this two weeks has been for him. And he was putting his guard down and letting me know that he needed more from me today than a pill. "It was beautiful, you know," he said on his way out. "My sister's home was beautiful."
With a lot of understanding, listening, and support from all of us, perhaps it can be again.
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