Compassion is a connection

Redeploy your senses

The God of small things

“Health is the soul that animates all enjoyments of life, which fade and are tasteless, if not dead, without it”. 

Sir William Temple. Nectar in a Nutshell 1945.

Some of you may be familiar with Arundhati's Roy's debut Booker prize winning novel "The God of small things" (1997). It is one of my favourite books, for many reasons. I chose her title for my blog because it is a description about how small things in life affect people's behaviour, and their lives.
In this blog I wanted to reflect on the experience of suffering a "minor" illness. In fact, so minor that some doctors would scoff at how such an insignificant diagnosis would violate their already busy day. I am a GP and until recently, I may too, have been lacking in empathy due to poor understanding of the implications, contaminations and ramifications. 
With a retro-specto-scope  I can look back and recall the fear and loss. I can also reflect triumphantly on the lessons learnt. My ailment only lasted 3 weeks and I am back to normal, or am I? I am clinically and physically back to normal...but psychologically I have grown... matured, with a renewed admiration for people with chronic and terminal illness, the tremendous resilience required just to live.

So what do you see? Any medics out there want to diagnose the "minor" illness? The illness that caused pain that seared through my eyes in Christmas week, that rendered me unable to function as a mum, wife and daughter and doctor. That felt like fire burning in my eyelids as I attempted to sleep; no rest when asleep, no peace when awake. A condition that led to blinding intolerance of any light? It required a 30 minute morning ritual of  eyelash exudate dissection. A condition that made me become a patient, submitting powerlessly to the perceived inefficiencies and delays of the NHS. It gave me a couple of panic attacks.......an overwhelming fear I had never experience before. My body was fine, but it was lifeless without vision. A large proportion of my recreational pleasures in life comes from seeing; reading, observing, watching.
The photographs were taken over about 1 week period in Dec 2013. They illustrate a conjunctivitis. Not a normal "common" bacterial conjunctivitis that requires antibiotic eye-drops (and often bizarre nursery policies).
http://johncosgrovegp.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/conjunctivitis-nurseries.html

This was an Adenoviral Kerato-conjunctivitis.

I bought chloramphenicol antibiotic eye drops over the counter, as initially I thought it was just a bacterial conjunctivitis (from daughter, with love). I didn't improve. I don't like seeing the doctor. As the weekend progressed my appearance and condition deteriorated. I was about two months too late for winning a Halloween costume prize. I missed the surgery Christmas party too. Apart from maternity leave (x3), I had never really had more than a few days off work with illness. I felt I had let my patients down. Checking Deanery emails on my i-pad made me feel normal, at least in my actions..but the reality was I could not tolerate the light from the screen.
For Christmas week I hid in a small dark room, with my three year old son who was also affected. Toddlers are so resilient, they moan, then play!
My family tried to help, but they also feared contracting the illness. My husband even made a roast dinner for 10 people!
I had been to the Midlands Eye Centre A&E about five times over a two week period, mainly because my symptoms were not improving. I was informed of the extreme infectiousness of the virus. I had very good NHS care. The staff listened to me and were kind. I complied with their treatments....and also became one of the 10% of the population who have an allergic reaction to the preservatives in eye drops. Iatrogenic intensification of symptoms?  Oh dear.
Worst of all was the feeling of suffocation I experienced when putting Lacri-lube ointment in my eyes. I felt like I was being buried alive. How disgusting that medication is...I will prescribe with cautious warnings in the future! I spent around £50 on prescription charges, some of the medications became obsolete after one use due to allergy.
I went on to develop a complication from the infection ; pseudo-membranes and corneal precipitates (like cataracts). When the doctor told me the precipitates could last weeks or months I felt devastated. MONTHS????? How can I function if I can't drive for months? Three kids in three different schools, shopping, working in two different places? How? How? Oh no........ I had to submit to this fate. I learnt to be a patient patient. Thankfully the precipitates improved within a week.
It made me realise the importance of the doctor conveying HOPE to patients.

My descriptions may lead you to believe I have a low pain threshold, or I am easily made fretful. Both of these are untrue. This was confirmed by a wise medical educator colleague, a retired GP, who informed me having kerato-conjunctivitis was the most painful thing he has ever had. My yogic breathing thwarted the rising panic....but it made me truly empathise with the patients who come to me with panic disorder. It is an overwhelming wilderness of intense feelings that erupt uncontrollably.

I am certainly not wishing illness on anyone, but I have learnt so many valuable, enduring lessons about life. Not least true self acceptance. I hope this blog will help at least one person with their reflections, with their interactions, with their considerations.

I thought I was just a service provider
My personal NHS Appraisal portfolio entry 10/2/14
I just wanted to reflect on something that has honoured and pleased me. It has also come as a bit of a surprise. Over the Xmas period I was unwell with a serious eye condition. It was the first time I required time off from work for longer than a couple of days (3 weeks). On my return to surgery I have been touched by the genuine kindness and concern from patients about my well being. In fact I have been taken a back, in that it is not just from my regular female patients who are friendly faces, but also from patients I did not even recall - like an elderly Rastafarian gentleman.
I am very honoured to be able to feel their genuine concern. I hope I will always help patients to feel my genuine concern for them. If I ever failed you I am sorry.

Maybe it is just Karma?

I woke up one morning in January and I could open my eyes unassisted. What an amazing experience...to be able to see on waking in the morning. Cherish the small things...as they are in fact the most important things.

Moseley sunrise 12/1/14 - from my bedroom  (smart phone pic, no filter)