She reached for my hand, her hands gnarled; the skin
fragile, translucent, road mapped by bluish veins; hands that had done much in
her 87 years. She looked at me from her hospital bed and with voice trembling,
her eyes tearing, spoke words that penetrated my heart- “Can I stay here?
Everyone is so kind. I am all alone now. I have no family, no friends left. I
have no one to talk to. Please let me stay.”
Her severe COPD was taking a toll on her physically and
mentally as the inevitable downward spiral continued. Despite this, she
remained fiercely independent, tough, and resilient, so typical of her
generation. Her toughness, though, was crumbling, and with it, her strength and
will. She gripped my hand tighter, her eyes searching mine, pleading. The
loneliness that now defined her life had become unbearable, painful. Its
unwelcomed bed-fellows, despair and hopelessness, now resident in her heart,
replaced any remaining hope and joy. Without hope she no longer lived life, she
only existed, day by day. I reassured her that she would receive all the
support and help she needed at home. With that, she asked me to pray for her. I
did so and when I finished, she prayed for me – a precious reminder of the
sacredness that is the doctor- patient relationship. She gave a nod of
resignation, released my hand and, looked away. I placed the order to discharge
her.
Her loneliness had become personal to me and in doing so, it
became real. How many times had I missed the silent cries of others; cries from
the depths of their loneliness and isolation; cries for acknowledgment,
affirmation, for someone to hear “their story” and in doing so validate who
they were as human beings? How many patients had needed more than physical
healing? How many simply needed the warmth of love given through a human touch
or words spoken with kindness and empathy?
Loneliness is a silent epidemic crying out to be heard. More
patients to be seen, beds to free up, documentation to do, clicks on the EMR to
make, families to talk to, the list goes on, all smothering the cry. We build
walls, wear masks, and put on blinders to protect ourselves from the pain,
suffering, and heartbreak inherent to medicine. In doing so, we can lose sight
of the person in front of us, the humanness of that person. Relationships are
an intimate human need, the absence of which creates an internal void needing
to be filled. Loneliness, with its despair and hopelessness, waits to do that.
May we recognize the loneliness that envelopes so many. Even
if words are not spoken, the message is still being sent – notice me, see me; I
am alone, and I need that warmth of love….
Andy Lamb, MD
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