I wanted to share with you a blog from the Washington Post, written by the co-founders of an important organization, the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. The Center follows in the footsteps of Upaya, where I participated in the “being with dying” program. I was particularly struck by the opening paragraph, describing a heart-breaking situation with a patient who is dying of cancer:
“I am dying. My tears are not because I am sad I am dying. I am just so disheartened that no one wants to talk to me about this and just sit with me. I wish someone would sit with me, like you two, and just be with me at this crucial time.”
It’s such a small request—one that the authors fulfilled without a second thought—but one that can quite literally mean everything to someone who is facing the end of their life.
Ultimately what we’re talking about in these situations is the need for compassion.
We often hear the term referenced in terms of health care, but not everyone realizes how critical compassion really is to any palliative treatment plan. There is a strong scientific basis underscoring the role that compassionate care plays the psychological and, consequently, physical well-being. It takes myriad forms and it’s clearly not quantifiable in scientific terms, but there is little question that small acts of compassion can have a massive impact; holding hands, listening to someone sharing their story, smiling at one another in silence, or even crying together all provide a level of comfort to a dying patient that many of us cannot conceive of.
The response of the patient they referenced leaves no question of that:
“As we were leaving Sarah’s room, she smiled and said, ‘Thank you both for pulling up a chair and sitting down. Thank you for looking at me. I felt you so engaged and that you were curious about me. When we sat in silence, which was kind of awkward at first, it turned out to be just wonderful because you didn’t run out. Maybe this is what I missed my whole life—care, attention and curiosity and silence. Thank you for offering that.’
She died quietly the next day, leaving us an invitation to imagine a health-care system that provides not only care and attention but also curiosity, presence and when there is nothing more to say, silence.”
So I’d like to leave you with a simple request of your own. As the holiday season barrels towards us, please take a moment to exercise compassion, however briefly or minutely with a loved one because in the end, those moments are all that matter.
Wishing you all peace for this season and all the year.
Gordon Giddings, M.D. 