Fresh Eyes

“The ego puts its own interest first and twists every argument, word, even fact to suit that interest.” ~Paul Brunton, British philosopher, traveler, mystic and guru (1898-1981)

Emily awoke to find someone yelling at her, or at least it seemed like they were yelling; she wasn’t sure. What were they saying? As best as she could tell, she was being told to get up. Sitting up in her small bed, Emily looked around wondering what was happening. The woman in the blue uniform was taking her from her bed and putting her in what appeared to be a wheelchair. Why a wheelchair? She could walk. Safely seated, the foot rests in place, off they went, but to where…she wasn’t sure.

Marilee had worked on Emily’s wing for nearly a year. She didn’t need a doctor’s diagnosis to know Emily belonged in the dementia wing of the facility; she exhibited most of the classic symptoms.

Constantly irritable and mean spirited, the woman seemed to be in a constant state of confusion and disorientation. Just this morning she couldn’t even understand it was time to get out of bed. The staff doctor had made the determination Emily needed to remain wheelchair-bound. The dementia had affected her equilibrium and she often lost her balance and fell for no apparent reason.  The wheelchair would assure her safety.

Margaret, the supervisor of the dementia and Alzheimer’s wing, didn’t have time to babysit the new staff doctor, but Dr. Doug had insisted that he make a preliminary assessment of every resident. She already missed old Dr. Winehart. He knew when to involve himself and when to stay out of the way.

They arrived at Emily’s room. She had just been returned from breakfast and was sitting in her wheelchair alone. Her hands were folded on her lap and she was staring out the window. “Emily Johnson?” Dr. Doug said, requesting the file. “We can skip her,” Margaret said impatiently. “Hers is a clear case of dementia. No other health problems to speak of.” “I would still like to do a ‘prelim’ on her,” the Doctor replied with a patient smile. Margaret shrugged and sighed reluctant agreement.

“Good morning,” Dr. Doug said cheerily as he stepped into the room. Emily didn’t respond. “Hi, Emily,” he said, coming closer. Still no response. “Emily,” he repeated, touching her arm. Emily jumped. Turning to face the Doctor, shrinking into her chair, she cringed in fear, lifting her arms, preparing to defend herself. Dr. Doug smiled patiently. “I’m Dr. Doug. I’m just here to give you a little check up.”

Whatever the reason, Emily seemed to calm down almost immediately. Dr. Doug proceeded with his exam, while Margaret stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, glancing at her watch.  First he checked all of Emily’s ‘vitals’: BP, pulse, reflexes, and respiration. “Her temperature is slightly high,” he commented. “That’s not unusual around here,” Margaret remarked, again glancing at her watch.

Dr. Doug took an otoscope out of his coat pocket and slipped on a sterile paper cap. At first, he glanced in each of Emily’s ears. He paused for a moment, as if contemplating something. Then, he reexamined the outer ear canals again, this time more slowly.

“How long has Emily had this ear infection?” he asked, looking up at Margaret from where he knelt next to the wheelchair. “Ear infection?” was the only response. “Yes, she has massive infections in both ears.” “It explains the low grade fever and why she didn’t hear me when I spoke to her.” Margaret stared at the doctor. “Ear infection? Are you sure?” “Absolutely, I don’t think I’ve seen one this bad before.” Emily must have been suffering with it for quite some time.” Again, Margaret made no response.

“It’s so bad,” Dr. Doug continued, “it’s probably affecting her equilibrium.” He glanced at the chair. “Why is she in a wheelchair?” He asked. “She was, ah, falling down a lot,” Margaret responded quietly, glancing away from the doctor’s stare.  “Surely she’s been exhibiting some kind of distress, like crankiness or irritability?” he persisted.

This time, not waiting for a response, Dr. Doug turned back to Emily. He spoke slowly and a little louder than normal: “Emily, you have a massive ear infection. We’re going to get you started on a regimen of medicine to make you well. I’m also going to recommend some therapy to build up the strength in your legs. Then we’ll see if we can move you to another wing. Do you understand?” Emily smiled and nodded.

Dr. Doug got to his feet and started to turn. “Thank you Doctor,” Emily said quietly.

Dr. Doug smiled and patted her shoulder. He turned again and headed out the door. “If you have lunch plans, you might want to think about cancelling them” he said to Margaret, brushing by her on his way out the door.

Though efforts continue to eliminate them, discrimination and bias still exist in our country. Racial tolerance needs to give way to racial acceptance and ultimately cultural appreciation. We rant against “racial profiling”, but what about “age profiling”? How often do we assume the young are not sufficiently wise to understand or the old not sufficiently lucid to comprehend?

In our efforts to get more done in our daily lives, we often take shortcuts. A more efficient route to work or an express line in the grocery store is a good idea, but there are no shortcuts when it comes to relationships.

Shortcuts lead to assumptions and assumptions lead to bias. One of those biases is that our elders become objects to be maintained rather human beings with whom we need to foster relationships. When we view them as objects, it is all too easy to determine they serve no purpose and are therefore unimportant.

Dr. Doug’s gift to Emily was two-fold. His talents as doctor and diagnostician were important in healing her. But there were others with similar gifts who had been there before him, had been given the same opportunity, but had done nothing with it. His real gift to her was the gift of time. Dr. Doug took the time to try to understand her situation.

Each time we meet a person, we are called, like Dr. Doug, to experience them anew. Each person brings to an encounter their own set of circumstances: the grumpy senior may be suffering with a painful, chronic disease; the fellow employee who seemed to ignore our greeting may have had a rough morning with a challenging child; the unfriendly store clerk may have just lost a parent or been advised of an upcoming layoff.

As Christian Stewards, our gift of time to others takes the form of building relationships, nurturing others, and, each time we meet another, looking at them with new eyes and an open heart.

Dear God: Help me see each person I meet today with fresh eyes and an open heart.

“(Bias) is the worst disease from which the society of our nation suffers.”

~Albert Einstein, German born American Physicist, Nobel Prize for Physics 1921 (1879-1955)

© 2011 James E. Carper.  All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by James E. Carper, Director of Development for Southeast Ventura County YMCA.  All rights are reserved.  You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper.  All rights reserved.” is included along with this message.  Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections.  If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper.  All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.