Dear Lee, thanks for your comment. I think that while the "bedside manner" was perhaps more natural and taken for granted in the past, in this age it must be taught to some extent, and learned.
This touches me deeply Peter. I love the story about Linda. I believe you “see” your patients in the healing way you describe. Like you, I’ve had both experiences of high-touch, low-touch interactions with physicians and medical personnel. About 40 years ago I was hospitalised for many months — the kindness of nurses and therapists helped me heal. I am grateful for all of them and all the connections no matter how temporary. I recently had a mammogram and was grateful for the kindness and gentleness of the technician. There are so many kind and capable people in the medical world— but not all of them have your gift of storytelling. Thank you.
Thanks Madeleine for your interesting comment, since you've experienced "both sides of the coin". I'm happy you responded to the story about Linda- I can still hear her voice!
As a former nurse and patient of yours, I appreciate your writings and reinforcing the importance of the human touch and eye contact. I was a home visiting nurse for many years and thoroughly enjoyed the personal contact of people in their homes…quite different from a hospital setting and no less important for me as a nurse or the person I was looking after.
Dear Sharron, thank you for reaching out. How wonderful to be in contact again after so many years (decades)!
I agree wholeheartedly with you. Nothing can match a home visit in fostering genuine understanding of a patient's personal and social health. How fortunate you are to have been a home visiting nurse for so long. I've no doubt that your patients valued not only your professional skills, but also their ongoing, warm personal connections with you.
About a year ago I was having increasing trouble breathing because of pulmonary hypotension hypertension. My feet were cold and sometimes getting dark. I mentioned this to her and she said, "let me see." So I took off my socks she looked at my ice cold purple feet fell down on her knees and caress them gently and cried out, "oxygen we have to get you some oxygen." I felt so cared for and connected.
Thank you Peter for you article. Most interesting to look at the issue from three eras. I thought the expression of the Doctor's face in the painting was most poignant and "illustrated" by your comments the limitations and opportunities faced by Doctors. We must never lose our human touch. Great article.
Dear Carol, thank you for reading these posts, and responding to the "three eras" theme, as well as the classic painting of a bygone era.
You may be interested to know that when this iconic painting went on tour of Britain, it was a sensation. (One observer was said to be overwhelmed at the painting and died on the spot.)
A conundrum. We humans need touch to thrive (good touch of course) but technology can definitely make a positive difference, and you have shown us an example. Thanks for an interesting story Peter.
Thanks Ruth for reading! I agree, the challenge is to keep connected in genuine ways, despite our need to embrace helpful technology in medicine. Whereas the "bedside manner" was more natural and taken for granted in the past, in this age it must be taught to some extent, and learned.
A beautiful commentary, Peter, especially your examples: the anecdote about your patient in labour, the supply-belt cataract surgery, and the moving painting of the helpless doctor and dying child,
I think everyone can relate to the comfort of being touched: by a parent, a friend, and yes, in the ancient past, by our doctors. Of course, doctors are also terrified to touch in this era of lawsuits. But our longing for physical comfort when we are distressed is universal, and indeed, timeless.
So beautiful, so you.....it just points to another possible cause why so many in the profession are complaining or working on the prevention of burnout. If you work in that kind of environment, can you go home at the end of the day & say I've got the best job in the world? In the end it is all about people.
Thanks very much Ann for reading, and for your comment. I fully agree. Hurried, assembly-line, mechanistic health care is not compatible with the kind of professional satisfaction that nurses and doctors have always expected to- and been entitled to- enjoy in the past.
That's a very moving commentary, Peter. A doctora in GTO once told my daughter, when my daughter commented upon her ability to palpate and make a diagnosis from that, that ideally a combination of the US/Canadian technology and Mexican hands-on would be the goal. I agree.
Thanks for your comment, Sido. There are certainly cultural differences in the way that health care is delivered, and experienced. We need to embrace truly helpful technology without letting go of the imperative of personal attachment- our humanity!
Nice as usual Peter. I’ve long envied those who were fortunate enough to have you as a doctor. BTW my song was “A capital ship for an ocean trip was The Walloping Window Blind” The idea wasn’t so much to take your mind off the contractions as to keep your breathing high in the chest during them. Or that’s what I thought anyway!
Touching and moving and wonderfully written- in the best of Peter's style. Touch is almost lost in medicine these days. As a geriatrician I have learned the importance of physical contact- of course with the proper permission- the other day one of the older woman I saw in my clinics asked in front of her son and daughter if she could hug me. The nodded and I said yes. That is worth everything in medicine.
Thank you Michael for your kind words about this post.
I think your comment is right on. Like you, I have been the beneficiary of hugs that have brought tears to my eyes. As you write, they are worth everything in medicine.
Thanks for that, Peter. I too, fear technology, i.e., virtual reality is encroaching on touch and human connection in a way that we are only just beginning to understand.
People, especially the young, are starting to feel more comfortable communicating by cell than in person. I worry about where that will lead us.
Your comment is interesting, Manuela. Our human connectedness is certainly being altered by technology. I do have faith in the endurance of emotional attachments, but they are often now put to the test by assembly-line, businesslike transactions.
Funny, and sadly true, I don't remember any physician's touch in my entire adult life, except a hands-on test for a ruptured spleen when I couldn't be manipulated into the MRI. Sad. Except for my current physician I can't even remember any of my doctors' names, not even the specialists.
I do remember my pediatrician from over 70 years ago, Dr. Gannon who, like all adults of that era is locked in my mind looking like President Eisenhower - a kindly grandfather . Dr Gannon was hands-on and had lollipops for whatever ailed you - and he did house calls. He also saved my life by reversing an overworked interns diagnosis of a tummyache when it was a ruptured appendix. And that was a housecall early one Sunday morning.
eye-opening… how to reintroduce the warmth and humanity that personal attention offers???
Dear Lee, thanks for your comment. I think that while the "bedside manner" was perhaps more natural and taken for granted in the past, in this age it must be taught to some extent, and learned.
This touches me deeply Peter. I love the story about Linda. I believe you “see” your patients in the healing way you describe. Like you, I’ve had both experiences of high-touch, low-touch interactions with physicians and medical personnel. About 40 years ago I was hospitalised for many months — the kindness of nurses and therapists helped me heal. I am grateful for all of them and all the connections no matter how temporary. I recently had a mammogram and was grateful for the kindness and gentleness of the technician. There are so many kind and capable people in the medical world— but not all of them have your gift of storytelling. Thank you.
Thanks Madeleine for your interesting comment, since you've experienced "both sides of the coin". I'm happy you responded to the story about Linda- I can still hear her voice!
As a former nurse and patient of yours, I appreciate your writings and reinforcing the importance of the human touch and eye contact. I was a home visiting nurse for many years and thoroughly enjoyed the personal contact of people in their homes…quite different from a hospital setting and no less important for me as a nurse or the person I was looking after.
Dear Sharron, thank you for reaching out. How wonderful to be in contact again after so many years (decades)!
I agree wholeheartedly with you. Nothing can match a home visit in fostering genuine understanding of a patient's personal and social health. How fortunate you are to have been a home visiting nurse for so long. I've no doubt that your patients valued not only your professional skills, but also their ongoing, warm personal connections with you.
Thank you for reading these posts!
About a year ago I was having increasing trouble breathing because of pulmonary hypotension hypertension. My feet were cold and sometimes getting dark. I mentioned this to her and she said, "let me see." So I took off my socks she looked at my ice cold purple feet fell down on her knees and caress them gently and cried out, "oxygen we have to get you some oxygen." I felt so cared for and connected.
Dear Kay, what a lovely story of personal connection. Thank you for sharing it.
I sincerely hope that your breathing and circulation improve. And may you continue to feel so well cared for!
Thank you Peter for you article. Most interesting to look at the issue from three eras. I thought the expression of the Doctor's face in the painting was most poignant and "illustrated" by your comments the limitations and opportunities faced by Doctors. We must never lose our human touch. Great article.
Dear Carol, thank you for reading these posts, and responding to the "three eras" theme, as well as the classic painting of a bygone era.
You may be interested to know that when this iconic painting went on tour of Britain, it was a sensation. (One observer was said to be overwhelmed at the painting and died on the spot.)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Doctor_(painting)
A conundrum. We humans need touch to thrive (good touch of course) but technology can definitely make a positive difference, and you have shown us an example. Thanks for an interesting story Peter.
Thanks Ruth for reading! I agree, the challenge is to keep connected in genuine ways, despite our need to embrace helpful technology in medicine. Whereas the "bedside manner" was more natural and taken for granted in the past, in this age it must be taught to some extent, and learned.
A beautiful commentary, Peter, especially your examples: the anecdote about your patient in labour, the supply-belt cataract surgery, and the moving painting of the helpless doctor and dying child,
I think everyone can relate to the comfort of being touched: by a parent, a friend, and yes, in the ancient past, by our doctors. Of course, doctors are also terrified to touch in this era of lawsuits. But our longing for physical comfort when we are distressed is universal, and indeed, timeless.
Peter, this is so lovely and so YOU! Thanks for the reminder about the medical industrial complex. Love your Algonquin header too!
So beautiful, so you.....it just points to another possible cause why so many in the profession are complaining or working on the prevention of burnout. If you work in that kind of environment, can you go home at the end of the day & say I've got the best job in the world? In the end it is all about people.
Thanks very much Ann for reading, and for your comment. I fully agree. Hurried, assembly-line, mechanistic health care is not compatible with the kind of professional satisfaction that nurses and doctors have always expected to- and been entitled to- enjoy in the past.
As you write, in the end it is all about people.
That's a very moving commentary, Peter. A doctora in GTO once told my daughter, when my daughter commented upon her ability to palpate and make a diagnosis from that, that ideally a combination of the US/Canadian technology and Mexican hands-on would be the goal. I agree.
Thanks for your comment, Sido. There are certainly cultural differences in the way that health care is delivered, and experienced. We need to embrace truly helpful technology without letting go of the imperative of personal attachment- our humanity!
Nice as usual Peter. I’ve long envied those who were fortunate enough to have you as a doctor. BTW my song was “A capital ship for an ocean trip was The Walloping Window Blind” The idea wasn’t so much to take your mind off the contractions as to keep your breathing high in the chest during them. Or that’s what I thought anyway!
Dear Paula, that song of yours that got you through labor is a whopper!
“A capital ship for an ocean trip was The Walloping Window Blind”, indeed.
Consider recording it - it might become a cult classic!
Touching and moving and wonderfully written- in the best of Peter's style. Touch is almost lost in medicine these days. As a geriatrician I have learned the importance of physical contact- of course with the proper permission- the other day one of the older woman I saw in my clinics asked in front of her son and daughter if she could hug me. The nodded and I said yes. That is worth everything in medicine.
Thank you Michael for your kind words about this post.
I think your comment is right on. Like you, I have been the beneficiary of hugs that have brought tears to my eyes. As you write, they are worth everything in medicine.
Thank you for reminding us of the importance of eye contact, touch, and compassion from a doctor, and in life in general.
Thanks for that, Peter. I too, fear technology, i.e., virtual reality is encroaching on touch and human connection in a way that we are only just beginning to understand.
People, especially the young, are starting to feel more comfortable communicating by cell than in person. I worry about where that will lead us.
Your comment is interesting, Manuela. Our human connectedness is certainly being altered by technology. I do have faith in the endurance of emotional attachments, but they are often now put to the test by assembly-line, businesslike transactions.
Funny, and sadly true, I don't remember any physician's touch in my entire adult life, except a hands-on test for a ruptured spleen when I couldn't be manipulated into the MRI. Sad. Except for my current physician I can't even remember any of my doctors' names, not even the specialists.
I do remember my pediatrician from over 70 years ago, Dr. Gannon who, like all adults of that era is locked in my mind looking like President Eisenhower - a kindly grandfather . Dr Gannon was hands-on and had lollipops for whatever ailed you - and he did house calls. He also saved my life by reversing an overworked interns diagnosis of a tummyache when it was a ruptured appendix. And that was a housecall early one Sunday morning.
Lollipops, a kindly face, AND saving your life on a house call- what an unbeatable combination.
I agree, 100%! That-s why your commentary is so right on, my friend. I sent it on to my daughter.