Sometime during the first year of med school (only a year ago, but sleep deprivation makes the months blur a bit) the school had a mandatory assembly scheduled for a Friday afternoon. Part of the curriculum at my medical school includes "Doctoring" a multi-year thread that teaches students empathy, how to interact with patients, and interview skills. The Doctoring chairperson got up in the ampitheatre and introduced the interpretative artist whose movie we were about to view, and then discuss. The movie was a personal interpretation of her body's fight with cancer. Informative, innovative, and creative. But too personal. For me. My mom has been fighting cancer for multiple years now; her prognosis is now unknown because she has surpassed expectations almost a hundredfold. I couldn't watch more than a few minutes. I just left. I got it. I didn't need to be there. I at least would have liked to have been warned, prepared. Maybe I would have sat closer to the back. At least I had an aisle seat.
My younger sibling recently had a similar experience. A motivational speaker came to speak on a random topic at her school. In opening, the speaker deviated from her planned speech and noted how her father's suffering from X cancer, the same one as my mom, motivated her to do good, strengthen belief, live life. My sister was trapped; in a small audience, she couldn't leave. She got pity looks from those who knew her story, questioning looks from those who noticed her pale complexion and uncomfortable shifting. There was no way she could have been warned. Was there?
There should be some sort of preparation mechanism. I know, protecting everyone from every little bit of uncomfortable history is impossible. But it would be nice to think people would at least try, in an educational setting, to make an effort. An opening statement, or, when possible, a preparatory email. If we do it for standardized tests in elementary school, why does it have to stop?
No comments:
Post a Comment