REFLECTIONS
Reflections IN SEARCH OF“ ME”
Teresita Bacani-Oropilla, MD
We, two friends, picked her up at a plush assisted living facility. She was not quite ready. She knew it was Thursday, but she was not sure it was the day we were to go to lunch. A clock on the wall, which erstwhile belonged to her husband and which she lived by, did have the time and the day of the week, but no date. Hurriedly dressing in her studio quarters and walking slowly with a stoop, she elicited cautionary reminders from the other residents to bring her walker as we made our way through the hallway to the car. She declined. She called them patients. Having found nothing much in common with them, she had not bonded with them so far.
Before emerging into the bright sunshine, she reflected,“ I cannot find me.” Asked what that meant, this was her answer:“ I used to be a doctor who enjoyed working with emergencies and made many decisions. Now, I don’ t. Everyone tells me what to do.” Although very grateful that her children have taken extremely good care of her, she is bewildered by the sudden changes in her circumstances.
Her husband recently died, leaving a large business. Not long after, their eldest son was suddenly found to have a brain tumor. None of the technology of modern medicine could help him, and he died. Bereft, she wallowed in grief in her home filled with memorabilia of the past, until she slipped on a rug. Hospitalization, rehabilitation and assisted living came in succession.
With her husband, she had raised professional children. She was independent when he traveled for business overseas. She had friends,
swam, exercised, had hobbies, took organ lessons, maintained a garden and a pool, enjoyed traveling and made many decisions. Pointing to herself, she said“ This is not me. I cannot find me here anymore.” I felt this was a profound observation indeed. No longer allowed to drive, she spends her days secluded in her room. Her joys are centered around her grandchildren and relatives’ visits, but although they made maximum efforts to be with her, all were still active in their professions, always busy, or lived out of town. Friends, likewise, had their own schedules.
Our lunch was a revelation. She remembered that the restaurant was one of their favorite places to eat, and what her husband always ordered, steak. Subsequent conversation lead to reminiscences about a trip to China, the Great Wall, the thousand terra cotta soldiers and the people they traveled with. She laughed and expressed a wish to meet with our former co-workers as we reminisced about our times together. She tried to play the electronic organ but did not have the sequential coordination to do so. With great insight, she said,“ It will take some time. I have to start all over. The world is still out here!”
We are thus reminded of one of the fundamental tasks of physicians: to understand the circumstances that patients have to overcome, and to give them hope. It’ s our duty not only to help them physically, but help them also mentally get to the point where they can find themselves again, and revel in the fact that the world is still waiting for them.
Dr. Oropilla is a retired psychiatrist.
10 LOUISVILLE MEDICINE