Being a doctor, sometimes I find the hardest thing, is preserving objectivity and humanity, yet not corrupted by cynicism nor affected by emotions.
It’s a constant battle, everyday, for one who is trying to be a physician, perhaps not a great one, but rather a decent one.
Sometimes, there are things seen and heard that hit closer to home, unbeknownst to all around.
One such instance was one of my patient’s husband, came to me, in his broken voice, and eyes filled with tears, nothing of which to suggest this man had fought in some of the greatest war known to mankind. His wife, the patient i was treating, had been so severely affected by her decline in physical and cognitive that he would not be able to provide the required care at home. The only realistic alternative under the circumstances was a placement at a nursing home.
“It’s not easy having to give up on someone whom I love and care for so much.”
Something stirred in me then.
I put my hand on his already burdened shoulder.
“It’s not. It’s never been. I can only understand as much. Take care of yourself.”
He yet to have the time to register what I said but I was already down the hallway, soldiering onto my next task.