Shared Pain--January 2019
OSF-SFMC, Peoria
(Photo by John Carroll)
The New England Journal of Medicine has an article this week: “Navigating Loneliness in the Era of Virtual Care”, written by Dr. Ameya Kulkarni.
Dr. Kukarni contrasts the difference between being a resident physician and an attending physician in “sharing the pain.”
“The achievement of personal milestones (among resident physicians) was amplified by collective experience, and shared pain seemed to wound less. At times like this, sharing the pain seemed to be a necessary tactic to survive. Whether it was the first time we made a mistake or saw medicine’s limits crystallized in a patient we could do nothing else for, there was always a resident in the lounge who could commiserate, provide on-the-spot therapy, or just listen.”
“Post-residency practice, on the other hand, can feel much lonelier. Midnights in the ED are solitary affairs. Painful moments are no longer eased by shared experience. The burden of losing a patient, once made lighter by the shoulders of co-residents, now lies heavier on a single set of shoulders. And virtual care, which has connected us to our patients in more natural ways than ever before, can also leave us lonely, spending hours one on one with our computer.”
Dr. Kukarni then suggests that doctors are social creatures and “so the transition away from routine interaction with patients and colleagues and toward more isolated and individual activities has contributed to loneliness and resulting burnout.”
I read this article with interest and thought my survival the last two decades has occurred (barely) without the “shared pain interaction” with colleague physicians.
So with my desire to “share my pain”, I offer the following to the virtual world for anyone who wants to read. Although not as intimate and definitely more lonely than the old doctors’ lounge, the virtual world provides me with some solace.
A December Morning—
John, you need to return the key to the front door of the hospital. Could I have heard him correctly? I had no front door key, of course. The hospital I loved had no key to come inside.
My colleagues in the Emergency Room and the other 700 admitting physicians suddenly disappeared. No more consults in the hallways or doctors’ lounge.
Nursing staff camaraderie and very early breakfasts at Dave and Ernie’s were over.
My beloved resident physician contact was finished. These young physicians were explicitly warned not to reach out. Painful doesn’t describe.
No medical students to teach and none to teach me.
And most of all, no patients to care for—many on the worst day of their lives.
Suddenly I was beyond lonely.
The ethics committee predictably fell silent.
So, on a frigid January morning, my brother and I picketed the medical center for denying Haitian children struggling for breath. Shared pain wounds less.
The Catholic Diocese of Peoria ran fast and furious…but in the wrong direction—exacerbating the isolation.
However, God had left me with one gift besides my family and close friends….the Haitian patients.
And they saved me.
I have learned that being lonely is painful and I don’t advise it.
But being wholly stripped is liberating and leaves one with clear vision.
Nothing matters but truth and justice. All else is just noise.
John A. Carroll, MD
www.haitianhearts.org
12 thoughts on “Shared Pain”
Anonymous
says:
says:
January 24, 2019 at 2:42 pm Edit
WE love you, John. Justice and Love will prevail in the end. WE are grateful for your continued commitment to BOTH.
Tara Livesay
ReplyClaudia Dahlke
says:
January 24, 2019 at 2:55 pm Edit
Thank you for the honest look into your heart. Why do we hide what we all feel? We were made for community.
ReplyOrietta L’Abbate
says:
January 24, 2019 at 3:45 pm Edit
John, it is in loneliness that many if not most humans achieve their highest. You are in there, as painful as it might be, is it a most nutritive culture – forgive the pun – substratum. Much love and admiration.
ReplyKaren Kenny
says:
January 24, 2019 at 5:11 pm Edit
I ask why humanity rarely sees that ones colleagues greatly outnumber those who possess power. If all would have stood together power would have been powerless and the outcome would have been much different. You did win in the end because those who need a great physician like yourself get good care and some are still coming to the US for healing. OSF you lost a great Dr.
Love your spirit John Carroll
ReplyDiane V
says:
January 24, 2019 at 7:35 pm Edit
John you definitely have had a higher calling, and you answered it with great personal sacrifice. I hope you realize that, although God has asked much of you, he has provided you with an incredible support system in all of us. Be sure to utilize it to the fullest extent. We are a village!
ReplyDebbie
says:
January 24, 2019 at 8:01 pm Edit
Beautifully written, as usual, John.
Replysays:
January 25, 2019 at 9:08 am Edit
Thank you all for your comments. jc
ReplyTerry Carter
says:
January 25, 2019 at 9:11 am Edit
Very well put. When fighting for what’s proper and moral, one often finds that the opponent is politics and personal gain.
ReplyMargie Barnes
says:
January 25, 2019 at 3:35 pm Edit
Dr. John,
Your words not only touched my heart, but resonated there as well. I’ve not experienced the medical field as you have, but pastoral work leaves one often lonely and bereft with no one to share or even understand.
I am so sad knowing you’ve had to navigate those feelings as you deserve so much more. I am grateful for who you have been and awed by the generosity of spirit and self that you have, and continue to give. God bless you for all you are for His little ones!
ReplyAnonymous
says:
January 25, 2019 at 7:39 pm Edit
JC! Your words are brutally honest and painful. Like a wound being ripped wide open. With God as your healer you are in the best of care. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for reminding us. And thank you for loving helping others. Peace be with you my friend.
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