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A Physician with Heart

by Traute Klein, AKA biogardener

When words cannot reach a patient, a hug and a meaningful present can do more to heal a wounded soul than medical skills.

I was in a bad way. I didn't know what had happened to me. All I knew is that life no longer seemed real to me. I no longer saw the world in color. Every image I remember from those days is in black and white. Actually not in black and white, but in black and grey. My body hurt all over and I felt vibration in every muscle. I was not able to sleep for longer than 10 minutes at a time. My friends withdrew from me. They no longer knew how to talk to me. It was just as well. I could not cope with the presence of others. I had been active in church all my life as Sunday school teacher, organist, choir director. I no longer went to church. It was too painful to sit watching the world going on as though nothing had happened when my world had come to an end. All I wanted to do was to be left alone. My heart had turned to stone. I felt nothing except pain. Physical pain. Emotional pain. I felt no love and no anger. The lawyer with whom I had to deal, seemed to be yelling at me. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. The chiropractor whom I was seeing just seemed to want to talk about his investments. I wasn't interested in investments. I just wanted to get well. One caregiver stands out in my memory. He is the only one who touched me in my hopeless state. He was my family physician, a young man who had known me since before the accident. I don't remember too much of anything he did or said to me. I don't even remember the visits to his office. I was not receptive to verbal communication. He seems to have known that. One time, he just gave me a big hug. That is the only communication which got through to me and which I therefore remember. And I do remember the last visit at his office. He had sold his practice to return to university to study psychiatry. That was a real blow to me, because I was not able to relate to any of the other health care professionals I had to see from time to time. On this last day, my husband and I both were in the office together. There was a bowl with little pebble-like candy with the most interesting colors and I sampled one of every color. I had always admired the stained glass work with which this physician had decorated his office. The littlest piece was a heart made of two colors of blue. It was hanging from the window and the sun's rays were playing with the glass. The physician took the chain from the window and hanged it around my neck. Yes, that I remember. It touched my heart.

Read also the story of a chiropractor
who understands the secret of
"Healing Touch."