 The Patient as Teacher
Dr. Tom Cooper
Hospice Medical Director
I started my medical school career with an indomitable
faith that with enough scientific research and technologic advancement, death could be defeated. The fountain of youth was a real place
and not a mirage. The body was a machine which could be completely understood and any insult eventually
repaired. My ideals became more realistic when my life crossed paths with Mary.
It is said that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Little did I
know how much she had to teach me.
Mary and I enjoyed many wonderful conversations about life (her travels,
everyday adventures and zest for living) during her infrequent visits to my
office in the 80s. Shortly before Thanksgiving, in 1990, she had a massive
heart attack which robbed her of most of her vitality. She was admitted
numerous times to the hospital for complications over the next few months.
Finally during one of her more difficult hospitalizations, she asked if she
could simply stop taking her medications and would I do everything possible to
keep her comfortable. (Hospice as we know it today was not available then.)
Fortunately, Medicare was less restrictive then and I was able to keep her in
the hospital. I confidently assured her that with no
medications, as weak as her heart was, she would probably die in a matter of a
few days, but she didn’t die. In fact, for a while she improved. Eventually
she did begin to slowly decline. Days and weeks passed and still she kept
making a poor prognosticator of me. One day in the hospital hall, I was
chatting with her daughters who seemed in a very good mood that day. They told
me about a conversation they had the night before. They remembered that their
mother always believed that everything of importance happened to her on July 7th
and they had an extensive list to prove it! The number 7 seemed to be her
lucky number. I was quite skeptical because July 7th was still over 10 days
away and she was in a deep coma and couldn’t possibly have a clue as to the
date. Well as fate would have it, she died about 11:25 AM on
the 7th of July. Mary gave me a crash landing into the reality that our
bodies are much more than machines and that the mind and spirit are powerful
forces of our being. I was reminded of what I had experienced in nature and
on the farm and forgotten— that life cannot exist without death and that
it is a circular unending process.
As a hospice physician, the mystery of this thing we
call life becomes ever more intriguing. I am privileged to be able to explore
the mystery on an almost daily basis with our patients and co-workers and to
begin to see death not as the enemy but an inevitable opportunity for closure to the journey of our life. |
