empathy

Day 687

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“Is it wrong that I secretly enjoy this bit very much?” asked a deeply religious young lady as she was going off to sleep as a result of having received some anaesthetic medications from me this morning.

The turmoil and the innocence of her question made me think about how much of our life is governed by what’s right and what’s wrong. On the one hand it in an important judgement to make and on the other it can be completely stifling if we take it too far. It can make us judge others and ourselves rather harshly. After all, the past and the present is witness that many thousands of innocent people having been rightfully and ruthlessly killed and ruined in the name of a ‘loving, merciful and forgiving’ God and ‘democracy and liberty’.

Being ‘right’ often does nothing more than instil a sense of false superiority, designed to control the feelings and behaviour of others and confine them and society to very narrow boundaries. People who believe they are ‘good’ and ‘right’ constantly look down upon others who may be different.

According to a story from Hindu mythology, Lord Vishnu had 2 wives – Laxmi, the goddess of fortune, and Alaxmi, the goddess of misfortune. Both of them believed they were the most beautiful. So, they asked Vishnu, “Which one of us is the most beautiful?”
Vishnu said to Laxmi, “When you arrive, you are the most beautiful.” And he told Alaxmi, “When you leave, you are the most beautiful.”
What is the correct answer? Who is really beautiful?

“Existence knows no right or wrong. The beauty of existence lies in doing what is appropriate, rather than relying on morals and ethics.The life process seems to be so chaotic and unbearable for you that you are trying to bring some silly sense of order by establishing your own principles, your own morality, your own ethics. If you bring your own silly sense of order to life, you will completely miss the magnificent order of the existence. There is no need to be orderly. Existence is in perfect order.” – Jaggi Vasudev.

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Day 681

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About 5 months after Saagar’s passing, one of my close friends sent me a subtle message suggesting that I should be careful about what I write in my blog as a few of my work colleagues read it regularly and if I appear to be too fragile or vulnerable, it might have a negative impact on my professional life. I understood her concern. The medical profession is not known for its understanding and compassion for mental frailty in colleagues.

Dr Wendy Potts was a GP in Derbyshire who blogged about living with Bipolar Disorder on a regular basis. One of her patients read the blog and complained to her Practise. The doctor was suspended. A few weeks later she ended her own life.

Firstly, I don’t understand the basis of the complaint. Would patients complain if their GP had diabetes or cancer?

Secondly, I don’t understand the basis for suspension from work. If the doctor’s performance was not questionable, then there is no ground for that.

Ref : https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2016/aug/26/gp-found-dead-after-being-suspended-over-bipolar-disorder-blog?cmp=oth_b-aplnews_d-2

This is one of many examples of poor treatment of medical colleagues with mental health issues. I think we are a long way from seeing parity between physical and mental illnesses as the ones who are supposed to put that into practise are themselves caught in the stigma associated with mental illness.

(PS: apologies for not being able to insert the link to the article in a better way. The ‘link’ icon on my page doesn’t seem to work anymore. Any ideas? )

 

Day675

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It was on the 21st of August two years ago that Saagar was officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder by an Honorary Consultant Psychiatrist. He was the only one in the family who was informed of it. I wonder how it made him feel. I wonder if he felt weird, confused, traumatised or all of the above. I wonder if it made him question who he was and what this means in terms of his future. I wonder what it did to his self-esteem and confidence. I bet it was scary. I am sure he looked it up on the net. He handled it very well. He made no big deal of it. He took his medicines, did not drink or go out too much, he waited patiently for the medicines to work and they did. He got better for a bit but then…

In 8 weeks time he will be dead. I didn’t know it then. I know it now and it kills me.

I bring myself back to this moment over and over again. Right now, I am chopping tomatoes. Right now, I am walking up the stairs. At this moment I am writing this blog. Right now I am folding towels. Right this moment I am watching the flickering flame of the candle in front of his picture. At present I am sitting here loving him with all my heart. At this present moment I am feeling sad for all the suffering he endured and I am admiring his dignity, strength and courage.

Right now I can see that this present moment is inevitable. It is here in front of me and all I can do is honour it.

Day 674

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Coming up to Saagar’s second anniversary in a couple of months, this piece of writing by another mother really touched my heart…

The Forest

When I first embarked on my grief path after my child took her life, I thought that it would be linear and each step would become easier until maybe one day I would walk out into the sunshine again. And in the first few months, I looked at others I met who were two or three years down the line and wondered why some of them seemed to be still stuck in what I thought were the early stages of their grief. How naïve of me!

I have come to realise that this grief journey is incredibly complicated and is more like being lost and stranded in a forest. To begin with everything was dark and foreboding; it felt like the forest would completely engulf me and at every twist and turn there would be branches catching at me and roots making me stumble and fall, and muddy, murky swamps wanting to drown me. I felt I was living in a horror movie at worst or a frightening children’s story book at best. After a while I was so determined not to let the forest take me over that I created a glade where I thought I would be safe from the shadows. I tried really hard to be positive and see some sense in my loss.

Now, coming up to three years on, at times the path can be straight and I think I know where it is going and there are more and more times when it passes through one of those sunlit glades and I can bask in the warmth and feel nothing can touch me. But I never know when the trees will close in and what monsters might be hiding behind them; and sometimes the path feels like it’s doubling back on itself and I have no idea where I’m going. But I have come to trust that I will always find a way through the tangled undergrowth eventually and walk with my eyes looking forward and upwards towards the light rather than into the darkness and despondency.

Along this path I have been so privileged to have met others who are walking the walk in their own way. Some sadly are completely engulfed by and lost in their forest and can barely put one foot in front of the other; and others seem like they know where they are going and walk strongly and steadfastly, sometimes wearing the cloak of invincibility to the outside world as a means of protection, but they too can stumble and fall and need a helping hand or a kind word.

But it is a difficult, painful and exhausting path however we travel it. And there is no right or wrong way to walk it and each person must find their own way through their forest. If you are one of the people I have met on this trail, I want you to know how much I respect your fortitude, courage and strength.

If you were there before I entered the forest and are still walking alongside me through the darkness and the light, I give you my love, my thanks and my heartfelt gratitude, particularly as I know many of you are finding your own way through your own heartache and grief.

And if you are reading this and know anyone who is stumbling through their own dark, tangled place then please reach out a hand to them and maybe catch them before they fall.

And to my beautiful child I want to say thank you for often showing me the way.

Love and light

Day 669

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“It’s the small steps that walk us through this.

It’s the knockdown with the ability to stand.

We may be very shaken after our fall, but we stand in pride for those we loved, that ended it all.

It’s the counting of days, weeks and years we focus on; but we must count the days, weeks and years that they lived.

We can’t forget the time they did live, for that is why we loved them enough to have this pain of ours.

Their leaving moment does not outweigh their living moments. We grieve for many reasons: we grieve for their pain and our loss. Celebrating their life was longer than that moment of passing. Which shall I dwell upon? Their life, their living, their happiness, their achievements… that is where I should dwell. Imagine all the time they carried their pain and their force to live through it. That will never be trumped by their moment of death, for we are still here to stand for their namesake. Their name was never suicide and it should never be that way. Carry them with you no matter how heavily it weighs you down. You are their storyteller now.”

– SNY