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I stumbled across this piece in the NY Times. It starts like this

Alone with his psychiatrist, the patient confided that his newborn had serious health problems, his distraught wife was screaming at him and he had started drinking again. With his life and second marriage falling apart, the man said he needed help. But the psychiatrist, Dr. Donald Levin, stopped him and said: “Hold it. I’m not your therapist. I could adjust your medications, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

At this point I stopped and checked two things – firstly, had I been redirected to “The Onion” without realising, and, secondly, was the article written on April 1st? Turns out the answer was “no” to both of these potential explanations. I read on.

Then, like many psychiatrists, he treated 50 to 60 patients in once- or twice-weekly talk-therapy sessions of 45 minutes each. Now, like many of his peers, he treats 1,200 people in mostly 15-minute visits for prescription adjustments that are sometimes months apart. Then, he knew his patients’ inner lives better than he knew his wife’s; now, he often cannot remember their names. Then, his goal was to help his patients become happy and fulfilled; now, it is just to keep them functional. Dr. Levin has found the transition difficult. He now resists helping patients to manage their lives better. “I had to train myself not to get too interested in their problems,” he said, “and not to get sidetracked trying to be a semi-therapist.”

This can’t be true. Tell me it isn’t true! Has there been a major shift in psychiatry in the US to deliberately NOT listen to patients, but to focus only on drugs? Apparently. Dr Levin misses the old style but finds he’s pretty good at the new one….

“I miss the mystery and intrigue of psychotherapy,” he said. “Now I feel like a good Volkswagen mechanic.” “I’m good at it,” Dr. Levin went on, “but there’s not a lot to master in medications. It’s like ‘2001: A Space Odyssey,’ where you had Hal the supercomputer juxtaposed with the ape with the bone. I feel like I’m the ape with the bone now.”

At least in the article they interview one psychiatrist who has opted out of this shift and she hits the nail on the head

“Medication is important,” she said, “but it’s the relationship that gets people better.”

You know, I think this is the key issue here. When did we reduce “relationship” to “talk therapy”? As if a relationship between a patient and a doctor can be reduced a treatment intervention, and that drugs, of course, can be prescribed more quickly and “efficiently” than a relationship so drugs win!

If this really is true, I think it’s profoundly sad. In my opinion it’s a greater valuing of human relationships and a greater emphasis on people – patients and practitioners – that’s needed in medicine today.

Less drugs, more relating! That’s what I say!

Emotion and reason

I was listening to a discussion recently about rational and irrational thinking. Whilst I agree that rational thinking is a “good thing”, I can’t say I agree with the current reduced materialistic view of rational thinking and I certainly don’t agree with what I heard one of the contributors say, which was that if only we could increase rationalism we would create a better world. My immediate thought was, “really? You think so? I can think of something which is not rationalism which I would much prefer to back as the way to create a better world – love.”

So, I was delighted to find this piece by David Brooks in the NY Times.

We emphasize things that are rational and conscious and are inarticulate about the processes down below. We are really good at talking about material things but bad at talking about emotion….when it comes to the most important things like character and how to build relationships, we often have nothing to say. Many of our public policies are proposed by experts who are comfortable only with correlations that can be measured, appropriated and quantified, and ignore everything else.

He goes on to make the point that the latest research is changing this view of rational being good, and emotion bad.

First, the unconscious parts of the mind are most of the mind, where many of the most impressive feats of thinking take place. Second, emotion is not opposed to reason; our emotions assign value to things and are the basis of reason. Finally, we are not individuals who form relationships. We are social animals, deeply interpenetrated with one another, who emerge out of relationships. This body of research suggests the French enlightenment view of human nature, which emphasized individualism and reason, was wrong. The British enlightenment, which emphasized social sentiments, was more accurate about who we are. It suggests we are not divided creatures. We don’t only progress as reason dominates the passions. We also thrive as we educate our emotions.

Hmm….what do you think? Are we on the verge of a new more holistic (and I’d argue more realistic) view of human beings?

When I read the line in “Cutting The Stone” about looking after the body, but not the being, I remembered some lines from T S Eliot’s The Cocktail Party – here they are –

Or take a surgical operation
In a consultation with the doctor or surgeon
In going to bed in the nursing home,
In talking to the matron, you are still
the subject.
The centre of reality. But, stretched on the table,
You are a piece of furniture in a repair shop
For those who surround you, the masked actors
All there is of you is your body
And the “you” is withdrawn

fungus on moss

This fungus growing through the moss on the trunk of a tree caught my eye as I walked past. Incredible patterns. It almost looks like it should be on the bottom of the sea!

Read this line in Abraham Verghese’s “Cutting for Stone”. It’s the last line in a letter of complaint written by a mother whose son died in hospital  –

The fact that people were attentive to his body does not compensate for ignoring his being.

I think this is at the heart of what’s wrong with health care. We’ve reduced human beings to human bodies. The truth is a body is an important part of a human being, but there’s something about a being which is not reducible to what can be weighed or measured. In pursuing the science of understanding the body, we’ve lost the art of discovering and relating to human beings.

 

This morning, as I walked to the railway station, I listed to a podcast from the BBC World Service. It was an old one (from last September) but I was catching up. This particular discussion was about rational and irrational behaviour in human beings and the section I listened to today involved Marilynne Robinson talking about altruism. She mentioned that it was Auguste Comte as one of the first to describe altruism, which he defined as

living for the sake of others

The debate on the podcast was around whether or not altruism had a self-interested root. That argument, I must say, doesn’t convince me. Human beings are social animals and we are hard wired for compassion and empathy just as we are also hard wired for self-interest. It’s the complicated entangling of these opposites that is at the root of so many human dilemmas.

Then, on the train, on the way home this evening, I started to read Karen Armstrong’s “12 Steps To A Compassionate Life” on the Kindle reader on my iPhone. Imagine my surprise when I read, in the opening chapter, her describing Auguste Comte’s description of altruism! Yet another interesting coincidence in my life!

Tomorrow being the hundredth anniversary of International Womans Day, I was especially struck by Karen Armstrong’s highlighting of Elizabeth Fry, Florence Nightingale and Dorothy Day as all “bywords for heroic philanthropy”. She then goes on to make, for me, a very convincing argument that we can track compassion from an evolutionary perspective to maternal love, without which no newborn infant could survive. There’s something worth thinking about on International Womans Day.

By the way, I came across Karen Armstrong’s book when I stumbled upon this website last week – http://charterforcompassion.org/site/

Take a moment, and check it out. And while you’re there, why not join me in signing it?

anenome japonica

anenome japonica

Wow! Look at these! Aren’t they wonderful?
These are the seedheads of Anenome Japonica (thank’s Jane – I had no idea what they were!)
Amazingly, they’ve survived the weeks of snow and frost to get to this point in March. Resilience? Strength? Assertiveness? I think so…

zen garden

A zen garden in the garden. So, there’s this post in the garden, and somebody laid a stone on it a few years back, and now the moss has grown and…..well, just look….isn’t it beautiful?

The World is made of Stories, by David R Loy [ISBN 978-086171-615-9] is a wonderful little book, full of memorable quotes about the place of stories in our lives. I read a lot about stories, as well as reading, and hearing, stories every day, but this book is a bit different because it’s written from a Buddhist perspective. I’m not a Buddhist, but it’s refreshing to read a different take on stories. Here are some quotes to give you a flavour of the book.

Like the proverbial fish that cannot see the water they swim in, we do not notice the medium we dwell within. Unaware that our stories are stories, we experience them as the world. But we can change the water. When our accounts of the world become different, the world becomes different.

and

The world is not composed of facts, because what counts as a fact is determined by the theory – the story – it is related to. Science is not primarily about discovering facts. It is about accounting for the relationships that make them meaningful.

I especially liked his references to the relationship between story and landscape, which is such a core characteristic of Celtic culture.

To the native Irish, the literal representation of the country was less important than its poetic dimension. In traditional bardic culture, the terrain was studied, discussed, and referenced: every place had its legend and its own identity…..What endured was the mythic landscape, providing escape and inspiration. (R.F. Foster)

and

Landscape is a palimpsest: a manuscript on which more than one text has been written, with the earlier writing incompletely erased.

Let me leave you with one more, perhaps the most appropriate one for this blog –

In the long run, whatever it may be, every man must become the hero of his own story; his own fairy tale, if you like, a real fairy tale. (P.L. Travers)

 

bark patterns

The patterns on this bark look amazing. Not just the underlying pattern of the tree, but the strange markings on the bark itself. I don’t know what made this odd saw-tooth pattern, and I’d be tempted to say it wasn’t made naturally, but, hey, who knows?

Our brains are wired to spot patterns. We look for the connections between things, and we constantly try to match what we see to what we’ve already seen. There’s something wonderful about spotting the unusual, about noticing difference.