So I discharged this lady on Friday. She was one of them. No, not a favourite patient,
because I learnt the hard way that you can’t have them. But she was one of those that
you care about and try so hard and take home with you in your head and wonder
why oh why is nothing you are doing helping?
Sometimes, we believe in something so much that we flog it
til it’s almost dead. We go hard without stopping to look for progress. Is it
because we are after professional gains? I
want to feel good at my job! Or want personal gains to feel good about
ourselves? Would be so great to feel like
I’ve helped.. Or ‘cause we really care? The
poor woman!! Whatever the reason, it’s destroying and sobering to realise
that nothing you are doing is helping. Like, nothing. But why? Is then that a reflection on you? Or the
problem? Or both? No wait, am I single-handedly responsible for this woman’s
difficulties? Okay, so she had made some
small gains. Baby gains. But I hadn’t “fixed” her. I didn’t want to send this
woman home with almost no language. After a month of rehab. One month. That would be
like admitting I am awful at my job! Well.. maybe I am. No, wait, again. From
one person? Does that make me a bad Therapist? Maybe. Really, though? Really?
Whatever. I thought about it. And talked about it. And
thought about it some more. And then a little bit more. And finally, when I
realised and accepted that I was not
helping, I was able to distance myself from the situation. I could look at the
cold hard facts of the matter. Which are these:
The brain is pretty amazing. But when parts of it die… like,
big fat chunks of it, they ain’t always going to come back to life. Neither
surgery nor therapy nor a magic wand will change that. The end fullstopAMEN.
Okay. Are you sure? Are you SURE? Oh. Okay. Right. So maybe
this isn’t about me after all.. I took
this lady on in a state of bad damage – sadly, beyond repair, for now, anyway. Her
potential for recovery was limited from even before I’d done my very first
assessment. I almost felt silly that I’d kept her as an inpatient for as long as
I did. Everyone loves a good project, ay? But did I really stop to consider if
I was doing the best for her, or for me? I think I just wanted to help. So I
tried and tried and tried.
Of course, there are always things you could have
differently and hindsight is a wonderful thing (as a sidenote, I would pay many
hundreds of pennies, cakes and buttons to have this..), but at what point does
it stop being personal and stop being about you? Not everything is about you. About me. Was everything in my control.
Well.. no. Not really. Did I do my best. I think so. Could I have done more
than that? I don’t think so. Really?
Okay, FINE: NO, I could not have done more than that. I didn’t fix her, and I’m
okay with that.
That is all.
Just try your best, people.
JP
