My partner and I (HWS) have been seeing two patients. One of them, “N,” I always greet and say goodbye to with a firm handshake. Ever since I was young, my parents had taught me that a firm handshake is a sign of respect. “N” remarked at first how strong it was. It wasn’t, but it likely felt that way to him. I had an afterthought, that maybe next time I should go lighter, not wanting to hurt him. However, he always had a smile on his face when he said it. He never seemed to be in pain, or dislike it, just remarked that it was a firm handshake. So, I always did it the same way.
A handshake is a very small act. Yet, it’s a normalizing act. Almost everyone shakes hands, at least in this part of the world. Our patient, “N,” doesn’t get out much, preferring to sit at home. So, he likely hasn’t had many opportunities to get a good handshake, or talk to new people. He’s always excited seeing me and my partner, smiling even if he doesn’t talk much. And we always shake hands. Perhaps he’s glad that I’m showing him the proper respect, or he’s glad not to be treated as old for a moment. Of course, I never shake hard enough to hurt, I do keep that in mind. But, a firm handshake is something simple. Something you might not be able to do later in life. If you lose a hand, lose feeling, lose strength. Or, die. There’s only so much you can do, can experience, before then. Only so long to feel normal. If I can help our patient feel normal, I’ll give him a firm handshake every time. If only to hear him chuckle as we walk out.
Working with hospice has strengthened my resolve to go into medicine. It widened my views of who needs it. Before the program, I imagined my patients as mostly young, or middle aged. I never considered the various challenges the elderly have, how different those challenges are, or how to tackle them. It’s inevitable, growing old. And we need to care for our old as we do for our young.
I want to become a psychiatrist. I like to talk, and I like to help. This program has allowed me to do both and has shown me the struggles the elderly have. Not just physical, their bodies deteriorating. But psychological, emotional. Not being able to go out, friends dying, not being able to properly express yourself. I want to help them, unpack what’s troubling them at the ends of their lives, help them live as best they can, and enjoy their life. Maybe it would be convincing them to call an estranged relative, or finding a medication that gives them clarity. Anything.
This program has helped me to see what kind of doctor I want to become. The kind that can give any patient a firm handshake, connect with them, and make them feel normal.