Perspective

I have to mention an interesting couple of patients I saw at the hospital the other day. One particular patient had a diagnosis that profoundly affected his appetite. He had been losing weight and was not eating much in the hospital. I went by his room to see if there was anything I could do to help him find something that he would be able to eat. Our kitchen was his limit. His family in the room promptly told me upon my entering that his appetite was just fine, that it was our substandard food that was the problem and that our turkey sandwiches looked like cat food. (Cat food? Really?). Let me just say here that these sorts of outbursts really don’t faze me anymore. (You don’t like our food? Well I don’t make it and we aren’t a hotel you know!). One of the family members even suggested that perhaps if she helped in the kitchen she could show our cooks a thing or two. I told her that I was sure they would love her help (very graciously of course). So in the end, I was surprisingly little able to help the poor man and encouraged his family to bring in food for him.

Next I went to see another elderly patient a few rooms over. This patient, because of his diagnosis, was only able to have liquids at that point and I went into his room to discuss his medical conditions, his recent weight loss, diet for when he went home, etc. He was a delightful man and soon he was asking where I was from, was I married, etc. He noticed my last name on my name badge, which invariably brings on a conversation about Ireland. He told me about his visits there and encouraged me to visit there with my husband. After a wonderful visit, I was preparing to leave and jokingly lamenting with him about his exciting diet of broth and juice. To this he replied “Hey, I spent 6 years in a prisoner of war camp, its all relative.” Is it ever! I wished he could go tell the other patient down the hall a thing or two!

That got me thinking. Life really is so much about your perspective and how you choose to react to things. The only problem is it takes so dang long to gain that valuable perspective that allows you to see things in their proper place! Take Ian’s grandfather for instance. The man is strong Irish-stock, has gone by ‘Red’ most of his life, and single-handedly beat up 6 teenage boys when he was about 70 (they tried to steal his radio). He’s lived through 3 major wars and been shot three times. At 78 he had the right side of his colon removed and when prior to surgery the physician tried to reassure him, he just told the doctor that this was really no big deal and he already knew he’d be just fine. In recounting this to Ian, he filled Ian in on his big secret. “You just choose to be positive” he said.

So here’s my question. Do you have to be a prisoner of war, be shot three times, or have your colon removed to be able to learn how to have the proper perspective on life? Or do we all need to experience starvation, poverty, or depravity in order to learn how to have a positive attitude at all costs? Of course these are extreme examples, but in reality, if you want perspective, I do believe we have to endure a little suffering now and then. As privileged as I am, I guess I just hope that what little I do endure will be enough. I guess that’s what is meant by the vicissitudes of mortality. With the ups and the downs we learn to discern the bitter from the sweet and learn the difference between grief and joy. Perspective is good, but I prefer the joy.