Masked Healing

I began 2021 with a lovely gift. The gift of service. I am on call this weekend at the hospital with the opportunity to fulfill my high value goals of helping , healing , and serving. I love what I do, and I do what I love. Simple.

I am grateful for all the protective gear as I scuba dive the hallways of the hospital and gurgle and bubble my way through talking to the patients. Yet there is something that does not feel quite complete as I interact with these bed bound humans trapped by their diseases filled with fear.

Communication is limited when they cannot see my face. Even more so when I cannot see theirs, as they too must wear a mask. The connection is lost from healer to patient and so is the feed back. It is heart wrenching when each day you see the same person but they have no idea who you are due to the masked encounters.

Where is the landing of the magic of healing?

What is even worse is that not only most patients cannot even understand what is being told to them even by their champions of health or their advocates through layered masks, but that they cannot trust who they are attempting to connect with. The healing energy is not just in the hands, but in the visual and auditory transmission. If one cannot see or hear the healer how does one trust the information.

“ Yes some masked doctor told me something yesterday I dont know who they were or what they said” I hear too often.

“ I was that doctor” I sometimes reply with a gulp.

For me at least, I know that I do not ever see the patients face in the hospital or in the office anymore which makes the bond that much harder to establish.

Depression is a very prevalent entity in most of these hospital cases, not just due to the burden of disease but the isolation and the lack of connecting to caregivers. When we isolate ourselves from others, even with the garb, we isolate the patients and ourselves as well. It is a tough time to be in the healthcare field, but rewarding to still try to provide solace day and day out. To attempt to heal, with hands tied behind the back.

I still do what I do. Because I love it. Each day I try to connect in some way, with some little part of the conversation, a little joke, a greeting, some little tendril for the patient to hold on to in order to help them get a compass point in their sea of confusion.

Yet in some way I do it for myself, as a healer, to feel that I can still impact someone’s life. And in some way heal them and myself as this is what I do.

To heal someone else is a privilege
To heal oneself is an honor and a right

……………

I love you

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