Playground 12

Sur­geons ask them­selves dif­fer­ent ques­tions about their patients than other doc­tors. Pri­mary care doc­tors ask what the patient has. What is the prob­lem? (This is chang­ing as we are..slowly…waking up to the con­cept of find­ing out who the patient is in addi­tion to just focus­ing on the prob­lem, since they are, uh, slightly related issues.) Any­way, sur­geons ask: Does this patient need an oper­a­tion? What is going on is less impor­tant then that ques­tion. Some­one else can fig­ure out what the dis­ease is. If I remove a tumor I still don’t know what it is until the pathol­o­gist looks at is under the micro­scope. My job is to fig­ure out that the patient needs an oper­a­tion to remove a mass.

The ques­tion I think I need to answer in my life is not always the obvi­ous one. When I feel fear, I usu­ally think some­thing is wrong with me because of that. Why do I resort to fear. Where is my courage? This again? etc.

Maybe the fear is try­ing to teach me some­thing. Maybe it is right to feel that fear. Maybe I can trust that fear some­times to keep me in line with some­thing. I have such a harsh judge­ment about it that I usu­ally dis­re­gard it as a weak­ness. I am feel­ing fear in my life these days and I am learn­ing that I should at least see if the fear is ask­ing the right ques­tion for who I am. Know­ing that the ques­tion has its own valid­ity and place in my heart, opens me up to sit with the fear and let it have its say before I dis­re­gard it as my weak­ness. This is hard for me, really hard. I don’t want to feel neg­a­tive things and I feel like a weak per­son when I am feel­ing fear. Maybe writ­ing this will let my ego know that it can be quiet and let me learn some­thing new.

Bend, OR 2006, Nikon D100