Friday, September 25, 2009

Escaping

There is an absolutely fascinating psychiatric disorder called a fugue state. Following is Wikepedia's definition:

"A fugue state, formally Dissociative Fugue (previously called Psychogenic Fugue) (DSM-IV Dissociative Disorders 300.13[1]), is a rare psychiatric disorder characterized by reversible amnesia for personal identity, including the memories, personality and other identifying characteristics of individuality. The state is usually short-lived (hours to days), but can last months or longer. Dissociative fugue usually involves unplanned travel or wandering, and is sometimes accompanied by the establishment of a new identity. After recovery from fugue, previous memories usually return intact, however there is complete amnesia for the fugue episode. Importantly, an episode is not characterized as a fugue if it can be related to the ingestion of psychotropic substances, to physical trauma, to a general medical condition, or to psychiatric conditions such as delerium or dementia, bipolar disorder or depression. Fugues are usually precipitated by a stressful episode, and upon recovery there may be amnesia for the original stressor (Dissociative Amnesia)."

No joke!! People just walk away one day. They remember absolutely nothing. They have started whole new families, whole new lives. Then, they "wake up". They remember everything - - - - except for all that occurred during the fugue state. The brain finds many ways to escape that which it cannot comprehend - whether it is the old reality or the new.

How many of us, at one point or another, haven't wished we could just start over? A fresh start where no one knows us or the mistakes we've made. A start that begins with a whole new person. If we can't have a physical fugue state, maybe we can make do with an emotional one. An escape from ourselves, others, circumstances, pain, tragedies.....

It seems ideal except......
I don't want to forget all the wonderful memories........in spite of some hurtful ones
I don't want to deny the significant people in my life........whose love keeps me going.
I don't want to relearn all the lessons I've learned and am learning......those took 30 years.
I don't want to forget the experiences, both amazing and painful, that shape who I am.
I don't want to let go of dreams and hopes and wishes that I've had for so long.
I don't want to forget the laughter........or the tears.
I don't want to lose who I am......to escape to a different (but maybe not better) me.

What about you? Would you change the things and the people that have made you "you"? Sometimes, escape can be dangerous. It makes us try to live in the future or the past or even in a non-existent place. The here, the now - - that's what we've been given. I pray we all live each moment fully - whether good or bad - because we will never get to live them again.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

In Memory Of....

One of the most beloved and respected physicians at Baylor ED died on Saturday. It has been heartbreaking for many of us, and yet we have been able to laugh at so many wonderful memories. Dr. Portera was the gentlest doctor I have ever known. I don't think any of us ever saw him struggling with "compassion burn-out". He cared deeply for each and every one of his patients. Once he befriended you, you knew you had a friend for life.

As a doctor, he was calm, steady and confident. In critical situations, he never became frazzled. It did not matter what rolled through the ER doors. If he was on duty., every nurse knew that the day would be good. Traumas, codes, crashing patients, broken limbs, sniffles, stubbed toes - neither the severity nor the drama that is part of any ER fazed him. People needed to know someone cared, and Dr. Portera was that caring person - not only for patients but also for their families, for the nurses, the other doctors, the radiology staff, the clerks, the techs., the housekeepers, the security guards, the social workers.

He was a man who simply loved people in the way Christ loves them. Dr. Portera did not see social status, gender, or race. He saw fragile hearts that needed to be handled with gentle love and sincere compassion. He entered every patient's room with the words, "Tell me about your troubles". And the amazing thing was that he really wanted to hear and know and understand.

Dr. Portera was a healer in every sense of the word. He taught us by example; he led us with gentleness; and he loved us with humor and grace. His was a life richly lived. I pray that I may continue to learn from his example of unselfish, overflowing, Christ-like love.