The Gift

I have written in the past of how our interactions can change lives even through the simple things. The interesting thing is that sometimes by seeing our effect on others we too are forever changed. 

Over the last few years I have been a spectator to the suffering of a couple of people in our community that have suffered with ALS. "Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (also known as Lou Gehrig's disease) is a fatal neurodegenerative disease. People living with the disease become progressively paralyzed due to degeneration of the upper and lower motor neurons in the brain and spinal cord. Eighty per cent of people with ALS die within two to five years of diagnosis– unable to breathe or swallow. Ten per cent of those affected may live for 10 years or longer."( http://www.als.ca/)

I can't really say this was an arms length experience in both cases because a close personal friend was very close to one of the situations and fairly close to another. The point I make is that ALS has been a disease that has been part of my consciousness for some time. The rapid deterioration against impossible odds has been stunning to me. The fact that there is no recovery from this disease is frightening.

Yesterday I got a desperate phone call at my office from the husband of an ALS patient, his wife had lost her hearing suddenly and as a result she was unable to communicate effectively. I have to interject that the ability to communicate with patients suffering from ALS can often be the one positive thing that remains in a body that is deteriorating rapidly. I was called over by one of my staff to see if I could find time in my jam packed day to see this lady. Providentially I had just had a cancellation and I was able to see her that afternoon. 

As these folks came into my office I was moved by the knowledge that the two others there, the husband and the worker were caring for a woman that was dying before their eyes. I don't know how long this woman had been suffering with ALS but she was confined to a motorized wheelchair having lost much of her motor control including limited speech production capability. I could not help but feel a sense of deep sadness for someone I had only encountered seconds ago. I wanted desperately to be able to do something for this woman and her family. I was already thinking that if she had lost her hearing suddenly due to neurological deterioration I could probably loan the family some sort of earphone based amplification system in order to converse with her in her last days. Prescribing a hearing aid would have been taking advantage of a desperate situation. I was ready to take this logical and ethical course of action. As always I chatted for awhile with the patient as well as the accompanying members of her party and could hear their frustrations. 

As I did an Otoscopic examination of the ears I was overjoyed to see that it appeared as though both ears were impacted with wax. With great hope I went about removing the wax from the ears and as one ear cleared there was an expression from the patient that moved me deeply. As simple as this rather benign procedure was the return of hearing to this woman brought her immense joy. By the time I unplugged the other ear her joy had spread to the others and they were all chatting away with big smiles on their faces. I too could barely contain my own happiness. You see with ALS nothing ever gets better, only worse. I suppose the joy in the room was incongruous with the typical response of someone that had their hearing return because of the nature of the disorder and the lack of hope that accompanies ALS. 

As I held my patient's hand while she squeezed it and smiled and communicated joy and thanks I was moved by a mixture of joy and sadness. My job is one that avoids decisions of life and death. I am not involved in life saving procedures but you know what? Even the little things we do in life through our every day interactions can have a profound effect on others and in return we are also changed forever.