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An open heart

 Nobody really prepares you for the day-to-day reality of medical practice. You have clinic rotations where you practice the art of medicine. You have classes where the theory of ethics is discussed at length. You have years to ingest the theory of the medicine and then begin to apply it.

But the reality of staying positive and appearing neutral when a beloved patient informs you that their cancer 'is more aggressive than anyone expected', and that they have five years of a hard fight ahead of them, sucks. Balls.

When a patient who made extraordinary progress over the last few years loses their brother, experiences a personal attack, and who then was in a nasty car accident which caused significant pain and is taking quite awhile to heal from and then sinks into a nasty depression? This sucks. A lot.

Therapeutic distance is a concept we work with to help us protect ourselves a bit, and to protect our patients from a really honest, visceral reaction where we shout out "No way! That sucks!', or "I hate that for reasons known only to the god you worship you are going through Hell on earth. You are a good person, a kind person, and this feels like A FUCKING LOT! for anyone to endure.'

We don't say those things. But we feel them. And we struggle with our own belief systems from time to time. And we curse belief systems where patients feel abandoned by their god in the face of enormous challenges.

I believe in the Universe, and that there is a flow at work, a symmetry, a long-game that I intuit but can't prove. I have faith..in things working out as they should. I do.

But when my very cool patients suffer, and get cancer and get depressed and have shitty families or constant pain or maladies that just feel effin' unfair...I want to lash out at somebody.

But I don't. I work. I focus, I do my ever lovin best to make things better. I try to get their bodies to balance and feel better. I try to urge them to believe they can heal, they can endure, they can make it through this latest shit show event.

But I am not as distant and professional and clear as I'd like to be. I am human. And my heart bleeds for these brave souls. And some days, some days we cry together.

And I've come to understand that too, is ok, in the bigger scheme. Because being human is important. Because us humans have to stick together when shit gets real and ugly.

We do this with heart. 

This is my way, though it is certainly not the easiest way. It just feels right.

And I have to go with that.

Huge hugs, lovelies.

Stevie



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