Paper cut-out made as creative reflection

My creative piece explores a moment in which I was intensely moved by compassion for a patient and his son, but also desperately in need of compassion and care myself. I was torn between the desire to attentively, gently listen and the impulse to run out and crumple.

As I saw this young man in front of me, it seemed to me that his experiences were mirroring my own. We were in the oncology clinic, and he was there with his father, who was in a wheelchair. I was new to med school and recently bereaved. It was only months earlier that I had held my Mum’s hand for the last time.

I considered the challenges that lay ahead for him. Moments of intense pain came back, smashing into my chest, and winding me. Whilst I so wished to use my energy to show empathy, all I was able to do was adopt a nodding sympathetic posture. My energy was needed to keep myself together.

As I listened to the consultation, I subconsciously hunched forwards and wrapped my arms around my chest, as if to hug myself, reassuring myself it would be ok and yet also ensuring my vulnerability did not escape. I felt guilty as I was unable to be emotionally ‘available’ to the patient.

In the couple of years since then, I have tried to explore what it means to be an authentic, empathetic, and self-compassionate healthcare professional. How do we flourish and not burn-out in an emotionally demanding environment?

I am still seeking depth to these answers from various perspectives, but I find that as a Christian, my relationship with God, and the infinite acceptance, forgiveness and love He gives me, is source of strength I can always come back to.

This poem was inspired by my GP placement where the doctor I was with received an urgent call about one of the patients in her practice. Many of the symptoms I mentioned in the poem were what the patient had, or other common symptoms experienced with brain tumours.

I wanted to capture the depth of fear and uncertainty a patient may feel in the build up to a cancer diagnosis and how the future can ‘feel so distant’. This patient was a real woman with a family. She could have been my own mother. In that moment I imagined the fear and confusion she must have felt for weeks leading up to this. I imagined the disorientation, the fear and the loneliness that she must have experienced in her unique struggle. Discussing this patient allowed me to feel a certain type of empathy that I believe will aid me in my future as a doctor. The ability to fathom what my patients are going through emotionally as well as physically. I know that I will never be able to fully comprehend the complexity of the inner turmoil that patients suffer through in the wake of a cancer diagnosis. But I know that having a deeper appreciation of my patient’s mental struggles will allow me to enter every consultation better equipped in making my patients feel safe, heard and understood.

The image illustrates the complexity of a GP consultation. Whilst it might appear to be a simple conversation between a patient and doctor, from my time at my GP placement, I have learnt that it’s much more than that. Both the patient and doctor have different agendas, and in order for the consultation to be successful, the doctor needs to allow the patient a safe comfortable space and ask the right questions in order to work out how to provide the best care. I've had a very positive experience; I will reflect on my experience first focusing on the doctor, and then the patient.