One magical thing I see while working in health care is the love story. Each and every child who encounters a diagnosis or illness spawns a collection of love stories around them. The stories come spontaneously from parents, siblings, friends, nurses, doctors, community, and peers. It all happens organically and sometimes it happens without notice. Babies cling to their parents when they ache; parents cling to their children when they worry. And the acknowledgement of mortality can stun us into living in the present moment–a miraculous gift. With the onset of an illness or injury, a series of love stories begin in earnest around every child as we all seem to fall in love again.
It may be innate, I think it’s impossible to stop these love stories from unfolding when a child is ill.
A physician colleague once pointed out to me that only two things bring you to the doctor: one, anxiety about an illness (or wanting to prevent one) and two, pain. With children, when either (anxiety or pain) are present, a love story erupts around them. Immediately and passionately, those who care for children and witness their lives will work tirelessly to ease pain and suffering. In it, their love unfolds.
I’ve just realized a love story is always a part of the history of present illness. Here’s why: Read full post »