When Dr. Hans Steiner writes of “Talking in Toys” (Field Notes, Spring 2015 Intima), he reminds us of how essential it is for healers to create bridges of connection with those who are struggling or suffering. “Empathy. . . is being in private, sometimes terrifying places—with courage and determination.” In my story “Bling” (Spring 2020 Intima), an adolescent’s “toys” create a connection that reawakens her joy and spirit for a brief, crucial moment. Her mother is able to quickly establish trust with the doctor without the need for toys or props, when he asks her simply, “What do you need?” Then she’s ready to see her reanimated daughter with new eyes.
Children and adolescents often lack both the conceptual framework and language to describe the intensity and confusion that surrounds their suffering. Even as adults, we struggle for words when we’re drowning in emotion and pain. But we all long for a bridge of connection.
Years ago, one of my patients diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer adamantly refused to discuss the progression of his disease, including pain or symptom management. Finally, his wife gave me clues about his “toy:” baseball. He missed sharing the game with friends. Another clue: He missed seeing their pastor since he stopped attending church. A final clue: Their pastor was a huge baseball fan. I recommended that she invite the pastor for a home visit the next weekend. This would bring all the ingredients together for the possibility that a frightened, angry man could find his bridge, and cross it. Later, his wife told me through tears of relief that the two men spent the afternoon watching baseball, laughing and shouting. Then they stayed together and discussed dying, hospice, pain and the presence of spirit and community to nourish his remaining days. For this man, baseball was his toy: a bridge out of isolation.
We can never be sure which toys may reveal the source of pain. This requires patience, careful observation of even the smallest gestures, and enough equanimity to accept our own limitations: We’re not able to help every person every time. They hold the keys to that, not us. Until then, we wait patiently until our patients reveal what they want us to know.
Samuel LeBaron was born in Canada and completed his medical school training there. He earned a PhD in clinical psychology from Michigan State University. Now living in California, he is a Stanford Professor Emeritus with a long career as a family physician and clinical psychologist.
©2020 Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine