Perspective

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This is one of those rambling entries that I am starting but have no idea how I'm going to finish.

I had to get "talked down" tonight from a typical insomnia-induced on-call self-pityfest. Kate, having known me for coming up on half my life is pretty good at reading my moods, and did a great job of pulling me out of my frustrations and suggested I go for a walk (not a RUN, a walk), which I did. And it did give me some needed perspective.

On the one hand, perspective really gets to me when dealing with some of my patients. After 15 + years in this business, I've seen a lot of stuff, and it makes it difficult to abide some people, some of the time. I have patients who suffer the worst illnesses and setbacks who manage to keep a positive outlook, stand strong against the toughest struggles, and persevere in a way that just boggles the mind. And I have other patients who have not the smallest measure of tolerance for the most trivial of ailments. When you know enough of the former type of person, it makes dealing with the latter particularly difficult. I had a lot of the latter today.

It's not really kosher in medicine to interrupt someone and say, "For the love of all that's holy, would you please just shut up and quit whining, it's NOT THAT BAD". I also know that the ability to handle setbacks and illness is a complex mixture of life lessons, modeling, experience, intelligence, perspective, previous pain (emotional and physical), and a thousand other factors. That is why I don't behoove people to stop whining, because I know I never see the whole picture. A small ailment suffered alone is worse than a larger ailment shared with others. Still, as empathetic as I try to be, I have to imagine some pretty traumatic upbringings and rocky lives to possibly justify the sheer amount of hysterical drama some people bring into the folds of a sore throat or a bout of the flu.

My walk tonight did me some good. It was nice to get out and just walk. Usually the only time I'm outdoors further than the mailbox is to put in 10-20 miles on a training run, and the simple act of walking brought a reminder of some of the pleasure of just being outside and taking it at a slower pace. I passed houses where families I know are dealing with profound illnesses, and layoffs, and separations, and that perspective made my sleep deprivation and on-the-job frustrations seem fairly petty. I returned home to a house full of life, with my 6 year old staging an impromptu theater production for the rest of the family, and things were a whole lot better.

We'll see if I get any sleep tonight...