It’s unwise to make generalisations about any professional group of workers, or anyone for that matter. Take doctors for example. A recent meeting with an out of hours GP with over forty years of experience behind him set a new standard I hadn’t witnessed for a long time.
This doctor was assigned to home visit a client I live and work with. When his car drove past the drive entrance and stopped as he checked the address, even with this movement I sensed something different. He reversed the car into the driveway and paused a while before getting out of the car. Before he even entered the house, I began to connect to the quality of this man. This was not an anxious man, nor was he in a hurry. When he got out of his car to put on his personal protective clothing, his movements were unrushed, settled and quiet. Each movement was careful and considered. He picked up his bag and walked to the front door. When we introduced ourselves to each other, carer and doctor made eye contact with each other. This was a meeting of equals.
He walked into the living room with an ease – no jarring – and introduced himself to the client. He spoke with soft tones, his manner natural, friendly, not officious. There was no imposition of any kind in his movements.
Remarkably, this doctor moved like someone who truly cared. He willingly offered to support me to move the client who, weakened with an infection, had temporarily lost the capacity to stand and be transferred. We did this together. Unusually, he talked her through what she needed to do, something carers usually do, but he did what came naturally to him. This doctor, not bound by roles, responded to what was needed in the moment. In this way he assisted me to support her to stand, move from armchair to wheelchair and be transferred to the bedroom. He was respectful of her and left the room when needed to maintain her dignity, returning to carry out necessary examinations and tests. All along this doctor spoke gently, re-assuring by letting the client know what he was doing.
Back in the living room he shared test results with me and explained what each colour gradation on the dip stick represented. No talking down, simply sharing as an equal. He showed a willingness to and did find a particular antibiotic that could be administered crushed, not whole.
What else do we have here? An example of a man who had worked for over forty years and yet despite the pressures of working as a GP in the NHS, had not been crushed by it. He was not exhausted, drained, jaded or worse, just going through the motions. He had not lost his humanity and continued to be of service to patients in a quiet and still way.
I told him how lovely it was to work with him and shared my appreciation of his qualities.
This prompted him to open up about himself, his home and plans. He said, with some sadness, he planned to leave the NHS and work privately. The NHS is an institution, he said, in panic and crisis and was no longer a place he wanted to be part of. This I fully felt as his own body had not one ounce of crisis, rush or anxiety in it.
2 thoughts on “The Healing Presence of a Doctor”
What an amazing doctor. He should train doctors and students.
Yes CS, the role of doctors as healers with a responsibility to heal should be on the curriculum of all medical schools.