Reflections From A Sixth Floor Window
Monday, January 26th, 2009I am lucky enough to work on the sixth floor. I am also lucky enough to have a window. While the view is nice enough, I have to say that what I spend my time mostly seeing is the vulnerabilty of the patients that come through our doors here at the Cardiovascular and Pulmonary Health in Motion program. They come to us at a time when they have faced, most likely, a near fatal incident. They are scared. They feel helpless. They are also, unfortunately, not even that old. They are fathers and sons, mothers and wives, grandparents to some and lifelong friends to others. But whether it is the young mom with a busy home, the retiree who has had to postpone his trip south or the busy CEO of a major financial institution, some things stay constant. They come to us with hope and they come to us for hope. They come prepared to trust in us and confide in us. In my view, I would say they actually come to us asking very little - a chance to be heard and any possible help given. I guess t hat’s what ‘healthcare’ really means after all. Either way, their hope does something more. It gives me hope. Without getting all Pollyanna on you, we (CDHA) must be doing something right for those that come here to feel this way. There must be things happening here to maintain that trust and hope. It’s a humbling thing really. I try not to forget it each and every day I come to work. It drives me to be a better clinician and a better listener. And from what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard, I am not alone. Anyway, that’s the way I see it from the sixth floor.

