The Patient Story
How do we learn from such a private experience? How do we share stories in a way that teaches but doesn't exploit?
Many stories have taught me what I know, and it has taken me a long time to figure out how to share them. I realised I needed to do more than change any identifying personal details. I had to ensure I wasn't exploiting the lived experience of the people who came to see me. A messy grafting experiment followed where I created characters and inserted pieces of women into them. I wasn't there. I tried to invent new archetypes that were the sum of a seemingly universal experience. I was closer. One day my higher self chimed in and told me I needed to be respectful, kind, and honest about my intentions. If I were all of these things when I shared the stories and if women recognised themselves, they would feel held, not ridiculed.
Story is at the heart of everything. It is the beginning and the end. Women usually come to see me somewhere in the middle. Their story has manifested in their body, but mostly this isn't recognised. Instead, a new one has begun around their physical experience. This process echoes the dualism that medicine has touted for centuries, that mind and body, or story and body, are separate. They are not. It is ridiculous how much energy has gone into separating them when they are inseparable. As clinicians, we must take responsibility for this reductionist default setting because we perpetuate it. We ask for more information about the body but don't ask questions about the story. If we need to justify not reaching a diagnosis, we judge a person's constitution, preconditioning, mental stability, or even personality as the reason for their physical symptoms. This is not recognising the whole person; it is searching for a scapegoat.
At any one time, your body is telling the story that is going on for you. I have said this more times in my career than anything else because it is a central truth to personhood. I have traversed the spectrum between scientist and sceptic and arrived here. Even when I challenge myself with the possibility of confirmation bias, I am never gone for long. The next story that walks through my door returns me to what I know; the body is a diary, a book, a memoir. It is your story.
But it is also ours. We are part of a collective, a feminine body that is all of us combined. We see ourselves as separate, and while that is true, we are also connected - we are the ultimate paradox. So my story is also your story and vice versa, and it is this connection, this shared experience, that I have seen as a beautiful and traumatic repeating pattern. Like a kaleidoscope, a mandala, or a fractal, women's stories have themes that replicate. They also vibrate at a specific frequency we can hear when we listen in a certain way. They are like a chorus appearing many times throughout the song of our lives. And they are an opportunity for us to learn from the mirrored reflection we see in each other.
You are not alone in your experience, which is my point and my purpose; to unite us. If I share your story, it is also my story and the story of many. I have chosen those that have a pattern I have seen repeated so that we can learn and grow and prepare for a future that needs us.
Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.
Arundhati Roy