If you’ve ever gone to a doctor (all of whom are practicing medicine, . . . like I practice tennis, or you practice piano, or a youngster might practice tying their shoe . . . when I remember practicing like that, I approach the white coats with respect but not reverence . . .
doctors have their own ego issues that I don’t want to encourage) . . .
. . . so, back at the doctor’s examination booth (room is too roomy a word) . . . and you’re trying to explain your ‘symptoms’ . . . and you can’t really because, even though you are experiencing sensations, you don’t know what’s actually going on in and with your body. You’re in to ask for another person’s informed opinion . . .
(diagnosis sounds far too certain a word for what is initially only their best guess . . . then they run tests
. . . in an effort and process of elimination that mirrors the child’s playing card game called “Go Fish” . . . got any 9s? . . . nope, go fish. If this card game is unfamiliar to you, don’t fret. I wish I was less familiar with it myself.)
I know you know we’re still at the doctor’s . . . in a gown . . . a little cold and feeling exposed in all sorts of socially awkward ways . . . as we attempt to describe what we have been physically experiencing.
It’s not particularly easy to do . . . finding the words that describe something that you ‘feel’ but cannot explain . . .
(It probably took you months or years before you even reached this point of seeking help . . . when we suspected that our own home doctoring wasn’t doing the ‘trick’ . . . don’t overlook that part of this whole process too . . .)
. . . symptoms that you’d like some help with . . . that you’re concerned about . . . but you don’t even know what it is that’s making you feel this way . . .
. . . I’m going to leave this subject right here . . .
Ponder, if you will, the parallels between how we approach our bodily illnesses and how we approach our emotional and spiritual ailments. MDs and ministers.
The good ones all are distinguished by genuine caring.