Surrender

I have a friend in the hospital. He is also a physician. When he first arrived, there was significant concern that his symptoms indicated something monstrous (although it continues to be frightening, it is not as bad as they thought). He knew to be scared when he heard the overhead page calling the emergency team to treat his suspected condition. The physician overseeing his care saw his fear and placed a hand on his shoulder. She then said that they will take good care of him. This, he told me, meant the world to him.

As a physician, he knew that to navigate disease is daunting even by experts. Despite the constant push for data and protocol, the art of medicine - action guided by the inarticulable and seemingly imperceptible - is very much alive and well. (The first thing you learn as a physician is "sick" or "not sick" with just a look.) He knew that she had little power to direct his future, but still her words put him at ease.

It is difficult to accept when things are out of your control despite the fact that most everything is. His doctor knew this, so she took control for him. She made it so he did not have to act. He simply had to be (is this true authenticity?). I think, in the end, that is our primary jobs as physicians: to provide opportunities for surrender.