Patience (part 3): Suffering
St. John Paul II had a special affinity for those who suffered from physical ailments, always making it a priority to pray with them. His own life was a testimony to patience in suffering, especially towards the end of his life when his once robust physical capabilities were crushed by his Parkinson’s disease. This did not stop him from continuing to make public appearances and being a witness to suffering. I was struck recently by a quote from this great man, “Never rush with those who are suffering.”
Never rush with those who are suffering. This is a challenge faced by all healthcare providers, and certainly one that I have confronted on a daily basis as an oncologist. Suffering is everywhere in the world, and we all must face our own version regardless of our circumstances. Cancer creates a unique constellation of suffering for those it afflicts. Pain from tumor growth and metastasis. An array of side effects from treatments (even if they are doing their job). Psychological, existential, or spiritual distress from facing physical limitations or the threat of mortality.
For the patient, sometimes all of life can feel consumed and exhausted with this suffering. For physicians (even the most skilled palliative care and hospice providers) suffering in a patient can trigger feelings of ineptitude, shame, and helplessness. Or even frustration that a problem like suffering can’t be “solved” in the time allotted for the patient’s clinic visit. There can be a tendency for a physician to want to escape this visit, to run to another task that is easier, more fixable.
Never rush with those who are suffering. I have learned that sometimes the best thing one can do as an oncologist, or as a fellow human being for that matter, is to summon patience and be present and silent with one who is suffering. Sure, there are medications to try and specialists to consult and reassurance to give. But many times, these take second fiddle to being willing to acknowledge the mystery of suffering, and be humble and brave enough to sit with it. Healing is in the connection, in the presence, between doctor and patient, as much as it is in the treatments prescribed. And when the treatments don’t heal like we hope they will, then this quiet presence, this solidarity in suffering, is the best we can give.
