Where Have all the Flowers Gone?
Growing up in the ‘50s, a child with a “chronic disease”, I was blessed with the gift of a physician. Not a doctor, not a god, but a physician: one who participates in the physical, emotional and spiritual health of living beings. How quickly we forget, in the face of technological advance, that healing has long been an art–aided and perfected by the wonders of science. It is physicians who have carried the mantle of this art. Dr. Kammer was my physician. From age 7 until my last official visit at age 22, he guided my spirit, without condescension, pedantry or admonition. He was impeccably trained: An Alpha Omega Alpha graduate of Northwestern Medical School; board certified in Internal Medicine and Endocrinology; a Clinical Professor at the University of Oregon School of Medicine. His appointment schedule exhaustively lagged behind, with the “waits-to-be-seen” infamous. Yet the waiting room was always overflowing. His hair was disheveled, his manner harried, yet he never hurried when he spent his time with me—he spent as much time as we needed. His desk was strewn with journals and textbooks, in various stages of to-be-read, am-reading, finished-reading. He remembered my cats by name, knew my “favorite places” to give my insulin shots, and listened with a careful ear to my list of favorite foods. He never vetoed any of my plans for adventure: hiking, camping, travel, or med school. I loved him. I respected him. He gave me hope. He gave me autonomy. I wanted to be like him.
He was my physician. And now, nearly 60 years later, I’m still here, trying to emulate him in ways I believe to be healing. I became a physician, feeling blessed to have had a spiritual torch passed to me, and hoping that I may do the same for others.
In this era of the corporate “healthcare industry”, where it’s all about “EMRs”, “meaningful use”, “evidence based guidelines”, “risk pools” and “providers” I take pause. I whisper quietly to myself, “I am a physician, I am a physician. I am NOT crazy. I am NOT crazy.” On occasion, those of us whose souls continue to resonate with the old idealism come together to affirm ourselves. We come to conferences devoted exclusively to the learning of new science, new treatments and new ways to touch the lives of others in healing ways. We tentatively and hungrily register for physician wellness workshops and the science of mind-body medicine. In these comings together, we share our stories and curiosity about medicine, science and healing. We share our passionate desire to make the sick well and the well stronger. Our numbers grow fewer these past years. The newer, younger graduates of medical schools seem to view us as dinosaurs—those of the “old school”. We attend our conferences wistfully. The knowledge gleaned is exciting. Applied in our daily lives, it would help our patients and ourselves. Yet, sadly it is to a large degree, not able to be implemented or shared. The patterns of medical practice are now governed by the bottom line of corporate economics. Training that used to deal exclusively with learning how to diagnose and treat and care for patients is now foreshortened by the inclusion of contract negotiation, gatekeeping and mandated financial management . Over 70% of medical doctors now work within a corporate structure. At first patients didn’t understand why personal relationships and attentive time were not readily available and they were angry–angry with us. Now they are resigned. Gone are the days when we could tell our story to our physician–regardless of the number of symptoms it included. Many stories now go unheard and diagnoses and treatments only partially made.
A few years ago, while driving home from my office after a day particularly colored by corporate health care, I found myself singing the old folkie: Where Have All the Flowers Gone?…….Where have all the physicians gone?….Gone to graveyards, every one? Through the turmoil of our national healthcare crisis, I resolved at that moment, to continue to be a physician. The torch, when deftly and carefully passed, doesn’t extinguish easily.
True physicians are healers in the broadest sense of the word, They help bring people to wholeness in body, mind and spirit To be a healer means to not only possess the knowledge of science. A healer must possess the art of listening–both to the stories of others and to the deeper part of him or herself. Only if these healing traits are present can scientific acumen, exhaustive medical training and business expertise be coalesced into a fine physician. The art without the modern technologies or modern technologies without the art–neither by itself can produce the whole. We physician healers are threatened. Our numbers grow fewer. Our replacements often aren’t whole. Perhaps our plight may be that of the flowers, to rise again from the graveyards. Extinction first, then renewal. Unfortunately, the awareness that awakens renewal often comes after pain and suffering. Would it be, that our society, with its vast technological prowess, will only find its healers again after suffering the painful consequences of their destruction? I should hope not.