PHYSICIAN HEAL

by Jemille Hardy

     Living with inner contradictions is a high maintenance relationship with the self. I lived thinking I must practice medicine as my mind was taught. I was supposed to examine, instruct, warn and prescribe. For the faithful who placed more trust in my words than in their religions or intuition, I was to act the role of high priestess of health. Yet I felt like a walking catalogue of disease. Talking like a proper doctor,I walked a shaky path, feeling the tug of my heart and queasiness in my gut because I knew it didn't have to be this way. Yet who would listen to me if I deviated from my officially sanctioned role? I simply could not imagine. I wanted to speak my heart to those who only came for pills. I wanted it so badly, I woke up one fine day to recall one of my father's favorite sayings, "Physician, heal theyself."

     Twenty years ago my life was in turmoil and I did not have time for a thyroid tumor, but I had asked who would listen and I got my answer. It's funny how my conditioning took over and right away I was seeing the ENT surgeon. Yet after one visit, my heart would not let me follow the beaten path. My heart demanded a voice and that voice took me and my young daughter on a journey that felt like a tornado in my life. Somewhere along the path of that storm, one sunny morning in San Francisco, I decided to let the tumor go away rather than have it resected. I had proven to myself that the human being is endowed with creative powers which may be used for the processes known as healing. The physical healing happened way ahead of the emotional healing that I needed. The disappearance of my friend the tumor was another beginning in the journey of my life.

     When I was a young medical student I thought that by the 21st century diseases like cancer and heart disease would be history. My faith in science bordered on the religious. Like others in my class, I also thought the primary mission of physicians was to sustain and prolong life. What I did not begin to see until later was the part about prolonging life at all costs. It seemed somehow comforting to focus on the ills of the body and the many ways of addressing them. The unspoken dogma was that ills of the mind and emotions were far too hidden, too complex, and often too scary to be faced openly.

     After my father, an old-fashioned GP who made house calls, died of cancer I felt like my soul had shattered. All confidence in my medical training was shaken. His suffering from radiation and chemotherapy, his facial mutilation and loss of speech from repeated surgeries, and his depression and mental confusion broke my heart. A rage welled up inside me, as if I had been violated and betrayed. Medicine would never feel the same to me again.
     
     Other relatives died of cancer. I watched them suffer with numbed emotion because my expectations had been rudely lowered by my father’s ordeal. Science was no longer my religion, and out of that change, a great longing was born in me. Where was I going to put my faith? In what doctrine was I going to believe? Despite the faith of patients, I inwardly abdicated my role as priestess or mentor of health. I tried to settle for the small victories medicine could provide, but that longing in my heart grew over time.

     Medicine kept me busy. There were always new studies, treatments, and procedures.. I tried to stay focused on the tasks of the practice. Yet the more I pondered the dictum "to prolong life" at all costs I realized how terrified most people are of dying. I certainly was. The faithful demanded hope whether medicine could provide them or not.

     In the midst of my activities I began to notice an unusual person every now and then. There were attitudes and emotional qualities in these people that grabbed my attention like no medical book or lecture ever had. I tried to sense what made these people stand out, and I came up with words like courage, peace, and inner strength. Yet that was not all.

     I began to notice that some people accepted death calmly because they lived life fully and believed that life does not end with bodily death. These were not necessarily people who had visions of a heaven in the hereafter as a reward for having been good on earth. These people seemed to have an immunity to the directives of society about what not to eat, what pills to take, how much money to make, what to buy, where to live, how to look, and how to live. My guess was that they listened to some inner directions that had nothing to do with my advice. Though at first my ego was hurt, I loved it!! I watched some people die with ease and grace, without pills, shots, or tubing of any sort, because they demanded that right.

     I found new faith. I became a devout people watcher. I observed people living with joy though they were not the richest, the slimmest, the prettiest or the most educated. It revolutionized my mind and opened my heart to see that ordinary people could be happy simply because their lungs were breathing, their hearts were beating and they felt intensely alive. My warnings and prescriptions made no sense to such self-affirming people because, after all, what did my directions really have to do with living right now, in the richness of life.

     Technology and science have continued to make strides, although not always in the optimum direction. Medical science has developed innovations that allow longer and more productive lives for many people. Yet modern medicine does not offer a prescription for human freedom and happiness. It can even be a contributor to human fear and despair. If our technology and science can be used lovingly and respectfully, I believe a new era of faith in life and health will dawn on planet earth. The good news is that this is possible, and that there are people who can help us understand love more deeply. They are here living life with full hearts right now.