Tuesday, August 23, 2022

We need more doctors who listen and hear





                                                                    The Doctor (Luke Fildes)

Some time ago, my sister-in-law found a framed art print that was in Dad’s den in the home where I grew up; the print was inspired by the 1891 painting “The Doctor” by Luke Fildes that depicts a Victorian doctor observing the critical stage in a child's illness while the parents gaze on helplessly from the periphery.

It has been used to portray the values of the ideal physician and the inadequacies of the medical profession. I had a particular affinity for that painting as during my first two years, the den had been my bedroom; soundproof and dark. My parents learned in short order that I did much better with sleep when there were no outside interferences. I came to learn that children with CP are challenged by overstimulation and sleep is challenged if mechanisms are not put in place to ensure quality rest. Today, I wear a sleep mask.

According to historical accounts, the most important influence behind the painting was the death, on Christmas morning, 1877 of Fildes' first child, one-year-old son, Philip, who succumbed to typhoid fever. The child in the sick bed has long curly hair so it’s difficult to know the baby’s gender. In my little child’s mind, as I grew, I identified with that baby.

Like the child in the sickbed, I had a doctor at my bedside during those early years; my father, one of the physicians practicing in the small village of Bath, New Brunswick researched what he thought might be wrong with me and my legs months before the official diagnosis by both a paediatrician and orthopaedic surgeon in Fredericton, NB. All three physicians provided compassionate care decades before medicine became a ‘numbers’ game.

In ‘The Doctor’, the physician is treating the child, his patient, as a person, being a compassionate caregiver with empathy for the child’s suffering. That’s how my father treated his patients long before Medicare -- going out on house calls late into the night, attending at scenes of car accidents; one in particular, years ago, involving fatalities which also injured my eldest brother.

I recall many evenings, while my brothers and sisters and I were watching television, Dad was on the phone in another room, speaking with a patient about various concerns. Most evenings were dotted with such phone calls. Today’s doctors aren’t likely to be investing much of their ‘down time’ to fielding after hours calls from anxious patients. Would be dollar saving if they did.

Our province needs more qualified physicians willing to practice in rural settings to fill in the gaps left by professionals leaving for ‘greener pastures’ – better hours and better pay, and willing to add their name to a roster of physicians who will make house calls.

For years, I have been of the view that doctors making house calls is the more efficient way to DO good medicine. A province-wide scheme of visiting doctors would save millions in health care dollars, with home-based primary care focusing first on a vulnerable and disenfranchised population, often older adults with multiple chronic conditions who also experience problems with basic activities of daily living “They are what payers refer to as 'high need, high cost.'” Their greater needs cost more, so staying ahead of the demand at home will avoid the more costly hospital admission in terms of hands-on care and bed space.

In attending at the home of an elderly or older patient specifically, the care provider is able to assess the environment if only in a limited way. A walk-about in the common areas would allow the visiting doctor to note any areas that need attention – like bathrooms and safety – are there grab bars in place? As we age, balance becomes an issue and bathroom falls are reduced with safety in place which is, as we agree, a cost savings to the health care budget.

A discussion about eating habits and meal preparation is another way a doctor can assess patient health and whether interventions are necessary to improve quality of life through better nutrition or to determine if house cleaning supports are need.

Home visiting doctors is a win-win, improving patient and care provider health with cost savings that will grow over time to be rolled into other services of patient care.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with Miss Lexie, a rambunctious Maltese and Mr. Malcolm, a boisterous Havanese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca




Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Disabled and disability. What do they mean?

Annie Spratt/Unsplash

It's true! We have a somewhat narrow view of what 'disabled' and 'disability' mean. Every day, young and old are 'made' disabled by attitudes about them and the why, the what and the how of their lives. Being fearful can be soul crushingly disabling. 

Part of the problem with the word 'disabilities' according to Fred Rogers, of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood fame, is that it immediately suggests an inability to see or hear or walk or do other things that many of us take for granted.

His words resonate: “But what of people who can't feel? Or talk about their feelings? Or manage their feelings in constructive ways? What of people who aren't able to form close and strong relationships? And people who cannot find fulfillment in their lives, or those who have lost hope, who live in disappointment and bitterness and find in life no joy, no love? These, it seems to me, are the real disabilities.”

For many decades as I’ve expanded my writing portfolio, I have often referred to WE people and ME people. I recently read an article about that very notion with thoughts from marriage and family therapist, Terrence Real, who opines that “a toxic focus on individualism has led to an extreme disconnection from one another in our interpersonal relationships.” COVID confinement has made many more ME driven people; self-preservation kicks in big time – even the vaccinated can get COVID. Being a WE people will redirect their energies. Less focus on self makes us stronger as we take time to look around, observing that there are lots of folks whose challenges are far greater. Helping them helps us.  

Often overlooked are those with a range of hidden disabilities that never get talked about; never get the attention they deserve so that those who suffer in silence can get the help they need, whether in a clinical setting with a therapist or within the community, joining a group of people who, over time, will become their friends. A few within that group will become their ‘go to’ person when they need to share how they feel. 

Long before COVID  packed us up into our homes, if we were fortunate enough to have one, there was a simmering misconception about people who are different. Their isolation wasn’t just rooted in COVID lock-down. For many, living on the fringes has been lifelong and it took COVID to soundly lock them into their letterbox lives.

In the words of Mr. Rogers, “You are a very special person. There is only one just like you. There’s never been anyone exactly like you in the history of the earth, and there never will be again. And people can like you just because you’re you.”

Keeping that in mind, it’s vital that we be aware of our words when we speak about disability and what it means to be ‘disabled by’. Hidden disability plague millions, from the very young to the very old, and the impact of something we might view as insignificant, social awkwardness, for example, can encroach many aspects of daily life to the point of paralyzing the person trying to cope with such a condition. We can become conduits to better coping for those in need.

It won’t be long until students return to school, with many youngsters taking their first steps on the path of scholarly pursuits. Among them will be students who are painfully shy, to the point of becoming physically or emotionally unwell at the very thought of having to interact in a room full of people. Their pain is real. To ensure that it doesn’t become a life-long disability, educators are encouraged to listen, to hear, to pay attention to subtle cues that it’s time to step back. Don’t let your own prejudice become your disability.


Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with Miss Lexie, a rambunctious Maltese and Mr. Malcolm, a boisterous Havanese. She can be reached via email at Carla MacInnis Rockwell