During my time volunteering in hospice care, I had the privilege of forming a meaningful relationship with one of my first patients, a former basketball coach. For the purposes of privacy protection, I’ll call him John. He was a warm and pleasant man, and our interactions developed into a bond similar to that of a grandfather and granddaughter. I looked forward to my weekly visits with him, and he was always happy to have me there, even on days when he wasn’t feeling his best. This relationship was particularly impactful, as it taught me the importance of empathy in healthcare.
A moment that really shifted my perspective occurred when my patient began mumbling unintelligibly one day. In the past, I might have written it off as a side effect of his dementia, but I decided to listen more carefully. I realized that he wasn’t just speaking random words—he was reciting poems he had written himself on the implications of drug abuse. After I did some additional probing, I discovered that he had actually co-authored a book on drug abuse as well, earlier in his life. So, he wasn’t simply mumbling ‘random words’. He was merely passing on wisdom. This moment revealed to me the profound insights that can exist even in the midst of cognitive decline, teaching me that patients should always be given the respect and attention they deserve, regardless of their condition.
Reflecting on my growth throughout this experience, I realize that through my interactions with John, and in fact, my other patients, I also learned the value of advocacy. As a volunteer, I often found myself in the position of being the voice for patients who might have difficulty communicating their needs. This was close to home for me especially because I myself happen to be a member of a minority group, and so I realized these experiences would prove invaluable later in my career, when I may be the only advocate available for people similar to me.
I found that by simply being attuned to the actions, demeanor, and expressions, of my patients, I could understand and relay their needs to the healthcare team. This responsibility made me more proactive in my approach, ensuring I was not dismissive but rather attentive to the patient’s true needs. I became more confident in my role as an advocate with time.
Additionally, I am cognizant of the fact that my understanding of patient care has deepened. Initially, I had a tendency to (harmlessly) infantilize those I deemed vulnerable, thinking they couldn’t fully make decisions for themselves and hence assuming it was all up to me. However, after working closely with my patients, I’ve come to understand that many are still fully aware of what is happening around them, even if their ability to communicate or interact is compromised. Treating them with the same regard and respect I would offer anyone is now a cornerstone of my approach to care.
I believe that this ties very nicely into the profound discussion in Atul Gawande’s video reflection on “Being Mortal”. After watching the video, I could very much relate to the fact that many doctors fear their own incompetence when they are unable to ‘fix’ a patient’s condition or prevent death. They might think that their role is only to cure, and in doing so, they may try to prolong life at all costs, sometimes to the detriment of the patient’s quality of life. Now, having learnt that the patient’s desires and decisions are as crucial to the healthcare process as my (as a physician’s) diagnoses and plans are, I am able to more boldly approach the field, equipped and armored with this knowledge. I am aware that what will truly define my success as a physician will hardly be my ability to keep my patient alive at all cost, but rather my ability to embrace the uncertainties inherent to the healthcare journey, and fully involve the patient in the process, offering honest and compassionate communication at every step, ensuring that their soul is at ease—because only then can their body find peace.