The Surgeon, the Pill Fairy and the King’s New Clothes… by Dr Diana Samways MBBS

I am going to write about some things we rarely talk about, possibly because doctors are nowadays seen as “priests” and they see death either as the ultimate failure to be medicated however inappropriately, or to be denied and not discussed.

Reading and hearing about cancer patients discussing doctors, I am struck by the sad stories of medical arrogance and the “taking over” people’s lives that seem to be a recurring theme. It gave me pause…and I thought I might be able to shed some light on the causes, and make suggestions about how to avoid the pitfalls (sometimes one has to avoid a particular doctor.)

I trained as a doctor (Royal Free Hospital,) a long time ago, and escaped from general practice in 1983 into holistic medical practice. I am a sufferer from mould allergy which is unpleasant and difficult to treat, but it was instrumental in my taking a holistic medical path. Having devoted a lot of time, thought and reading to what I call the “spiritual” side of medicine, I have learned to listen and not always to “fix”, to empower people to get well and give them the tools and the knowledge, and especially, to implant the idea that the body does have its own ability to heal itself.

Most illness does not require us to present as supplicants at the local health centre (and catch something else.) I have had to unlearn a lot of my training, and have come to believe that very few doctors actually “recover” (emotionally) from their training (metaphorically, they have been through a war-zone.) I hope that things have improved, but judging by a book called “Trust Me I’m a Doctor” (details below)* not very much.

Who Becomes a Doctor?

Research using post-it notes shows that a high proportion of people who enter the helping professions (medical, nursing, priesthood etc.) come from difficult childhood backgrounds where there was strife and crisis. They are the family “heroes” often the oldest child who felt that “somebody had better shape up round here”, and they “coped” with crises brilliantly. That early training fitted them admirably for the medical profession where the “stiff upper lip” (over the loose flabby chin?) is a vital component.

Medical education has been described as “teaching by humiliation” and certainly any normal emotions are eliminated by the time one qualifies in medicine, and I fear that most doctors are out of touch with their feelings, unless later, they did some work on this, (I did, thankfully.) One aspect of the ethos of medical training is to avoid asking for help especially if it means calling in a superior from home, out of hours. This means that doctors are quite used to looking things up on the hoof, even doing operations from a book. “See one, do one teach one” (of surgical operations) was a common slogan on surgical firms.

Unfortunately the very dedicated people from possibly troubled families who become doctors are also the very high fliers who have a high rate of addiction to alcohol and drugs which are readily available. The high stress nature and sheer volume of the work are certainly factors. Some years ago I worked as a locum for a short spell in a hospital which must remain anonymous, and my bedroom was the wrong side of the resident doctor’s (self service) bar and mess, I became appalled at what I saw there, with round the clock drinking, particularly by the junior doctors who did the round the clock medicine. It is worrying to think that you may be seeing a doctor who is under the influence of something.

The loss of contact with ones feelings which is a defence against what one has seen, experienced and failed to cure, contributes to a lack of intuition and empathy when seeing patients which difficult conditions. Macabre medical in-jokes and jargon are part of a culture of “don’t talk, don’t trust, don’t feel”.

Death

As a doctor I had no real training in death itself as a process, but excellent instruction in forensic details such as the filling in of cremation forms. I experienced bits and pieces by visiting dying patients periodically in an endeavour to provide comforts, but didn’t stay long (a human “doing” as opposed to a human being.) Years later I experienced my mother’s death (peacefully, aged 98 in her own bed at home as she wanted it.) I was privileged to be part of a process lasting several weeks and could quietly be there for her. All we can really offer is our own humanity, and we should never underestimate the value of that. We often rightly pray for the dying and the sick, I think it is also important to pray for those I call the “bystanders” in their painful role of being there.

Pause for Thought…

As a medical student I thought that if I could know everything, cure diseases and write research papers, I would be a good doctor. Wrong.... Most illness after the age of thirty-five is not instantly “curable,” apart from obvious shortages (low thyroid function, for example.)

I do not know “everything” but I know how to find out. Someone once said “you learn more and more about less and less, and when you know everything about nothing, you graduate....” Perhaps the real problem is the mental stuckness, and failure of any sort of spiritual growth, that afflicts many busy doctors, lack of time being cited as the main reason.

My wise colleague, the late Dr Keith Eaton, described the process of the formation of the Medical Royal Colleges as follows:

“First a group of senior practitioners, approaching their dodderage and who all know each other, get together over dinner and award each other a certificate which they clip from the top of a cereal packet. Having thus formed themselves into a club which will be perceived by outsiders to be authoritative and which other practitioners wish to join, they set up an obstacle course which aspiring members then have to surmount…”

Unfortunately there is more than a grain of truth in this, and many doctors do spend their early and busy years in practice completing the obstacle course in order to get as many higher degrees and paper qualifications as possible.

Another of my wiser medical teachers once said that medicine would be more compassionate if prior to practicing, all doctors had to under undergo a major surgical operation on a British National Health Service “Nightingale” ward (public ward for 25 people, mixed sexes, beds divided off with curtains for death and events requiring major privacy, television on at all times.)

The River Bank Story - A Metaphor for Wisdom

There once was a wise old priest who described the three phases of his ministry. “ I saw the people struggling with their lives, metaphorically, as people in a river, struggling to reach the river bank. At first I thought (after training) that I should stand on the riverbank and tell the people what to do and direct them by shouting instructions. Later I thought I should reach into the river, from the riverbank, and try to guide them to the edge. Much later, when I reached the age of wisdom and experience, I realised we were all in the river together, helping each other along. Very few doctors ever reach this stage of wisdom, far too many behave as if they think they are God.

Riverbank Story, Two

This illustrates our current obsession with fixing each problem with the latest pharmaceutical magic bullet, without ever stopping to think about causes and future prevention.

A group of friends were picnicking on a riverbank, when someone noticed a baby floating down the river towards them. They fished it out, dried it and generally sorted things, and were just wondering what to do, when another baby was noticed floating down the river…..they fished it out, etc. This continued to happen, and they got very skilled at saving drowning babies. Later, one of the group said “why don’t some of us walk up-stream and see if we can prevent these babies from falling in.”

“Don’t listen to the doctor, listen to the patient…”

“Life is a journey not a station you stop at….”

Dr Diana Samways MBBS was conventionally trained in medicine and was a GP. In 1982 she escaped and now runs a holistic medical practice in Haslemere Surrey (specialising in Candida, IBS allergies including mould, chronic fatigue and post viral syndromes, MCS and more.) She is an entertaining public speaker. Details of her work and her very popular book “I’m a Patient…Get Me out of Here…” are on her website www.allergydoctor.org.uk. Tel 01428 643021 begin_of_the_skype_highlighting            01428 643021      end_of_the_skype_highlighting.

Copyright Dr Diana Samways 2006. (This article first appeared in Coffee ‘n’ Carrots, the Gerson Thereapy support Group’s Journal.)

* “Trust Me, I’m a Doctor” by Drs Hammond and Mosely.