The Touch of Hope

The ‘healing touch’

To heal is to touch with love that which we previously touched with fear – Stephen Levine

Fridays are as usual unusually busier than other days and our small waiting room is packed with clients and their loved ones. I was in the clinic early in the morning and notice many of the faces in the crowd. It has been a month since I join this AIDS project that we notice the gradually increasing number of patients attending our medical, and other related care and support services. The morning hours got us occupied with the registering new clients, intake for patients, counseling services, referral and the general out patient clinic and schedule all cases that need minor surgical interventions in the afternoon hours. It was not exceptional that I scheduled few cases that can be handled at the minor OT in the afternoon.

It is amazing how time just melts and half the day just vanishes in a wink. I was still examining a patient when the duty nurse gave a gentle knock on the door reminding me of the time of the day for it was already late afternoon and we have schedule cases for minor surgery. She read out the OT list of cases for surgery and a new patient waiting in the minor OT for an examination. He had report early in the morning and was getting more and more restless with visibly obvious discomfort. He hopped into the room as he could not really muster little energy to take small wobbly steps. As instructed the nurse had all prepared him for an detailed examination. She had already recorded his ailment and was counseled as he waited for me in the minor operation theatre. I was tired and already famished when I stumbled into the room offering an apology. He was handsome, huge and tall, and a solidly built young man. He was shy and struggled and fumbled almost fell off the examination stool as he tried to rise to greet me. I was fascinated and impressed by his humility, his deep resonant voice ‘Thank you doctor for seeing me – I hope I am not bothering you ?’ I quickly walked over toward him and shook his hand. I helped him to the examination stool and coaxing him to relax and to take it easy.

As I greet him with enthusiasm I forgot my tiredness and as my mind ran through a series of surgical procedure and steps for the minor surgery he would require to relieve him of his obvious and badly needed surgical intervention. Precise incision at the site and the steps for an I&D to drain the deep seated collection of pus .. I have repeatedly ran across my mine. He was much restrained and with profusely shame and apology began to narrate his medical history. He tested HIV positive for over three years when he went to donate blood. He was told that they do not need his blood and that he need to see a doctor for his blood was contaminated. He had been lonely ever since and went through bouts of grief, frustration and depression and began to seek solace and comfort through drugs. The only time he was off pain was when he would be numbed by the effects of heroin he addressed it was his ‘associate’ and friend he now met with his ‘associate three or four times a day. He whispered that he has no more veins and had to try the smaller vessels in his thighs which has swelled up and he has been avoiding his friends and afraid to share it even with his family who still do not know his HIV status. ‘I have this swelling in my right thigh since last seven days’ and could not hide it any more. I wanted to avoid meeting any doctor as he had had uncomfortable encounters ever since he was tested positive… ‘I am sorry to trouble you’ he continued ‘I tired my best to avoid visiting a doctor but have to come over to see you as I am worried. My worry has been keeping me awake for many nights

The swelling is so large and dark that he could not ignore its exisitence anymore’. I needed to see you and shift his gaze to the floor feeling terribly ashamed.

When I examined him I saw an ugly looking dark swelling almost the size of my fist in the middle of his thigh. I look at him and he was calm and controlled as I inspect the abscess in his thigh. I could understand how painful it must have been and to carry such a painful abscess for so long. I then proceeded to examined him and soon ‘touched’ the swelling gently, to feel for its consistency, for any raise in local temperature, and presence of any pain. It was obvious now that there is a deep seated abscess that needed a surgical intervention to removed the pus that has accumulated for the past week. I was concentrating so much on the process of trying to figure out the extend of the problem while contemplating and planning to execute an ‘incision and drainage’ operation to drain the pus. I then gazed up and looked into his face but was taken aback and shuddered by what I saw. He was quietly weeping, bursting into loud sobs as tears flowed copiously down his cheeks. I cringed within myself afraid that I might have accidentally hurt him as I touched him as I examined the swelling. I felt lost and was speechless and it took me a moment to regain my balance and managed a weak and quite response ‘I am so sorry, did I hurt you ?’. He quit his sobbing and was silent as he slowly seems to wake up regaining his esteem and his composure as he dried his tears with a sign of that portrays a changed man. His voiced sounded strong and hopeful ‘No, doctor, you didn’t hurt me, no, no at all, it was not pain…’ I was surprised then what could be his reason that made a grown man cry. He was more open as he sniffed and told me with halting words how - ever since being tested HIV positive had to battle problems with himself and with friends and the system – fight for his rights, dignity and acceptance. He shared of how he was stigmatized and how no one would dare to get close to him even in times of dire need. The visit to our clinic was the first time he experience equal treatment, not being judge, but accepted and this experience was something different. He continued to narrate his story briefly, softly, almost apologetic and concluded by confessing the main reason that made really touched his heart that let him lose control of and shed those many years of pent sadness, frustration, hopelessness and the tears. He summed up eloquently with just three most beautiful word I ever heard for the first time in my life ‘You touched me’.

It was after this incident did came the message very loud and clear to me of the powerful magnitude the simple act of ‘a caring touch’. Life in the times of HIV has change the emotional fabric of ones inner feelings and the tragedies of person with HIV/AIDS is not in just not finding the right doctor, the right counselor or the right pastor but that of the reluctance of many people who refuse to touch – like the simple handshake to one who is HIV positive. The irrational fear of contracting HIV through casual touch make people hesitate to touch them. Many refuse to touch because HIV is often associated with IVDU’s, sex workers and they refuse to accept the different life style they are linked with. My feeling begin to gradually changed and I realized that whatever reason we might have or cook up that made one think twice before touching someone, refusing to touch sends out a message that we do not accept them or you are not emotionally present to make them accepted, and it is accepting them that gives them hope. Willing to touch when required also sent a strong message that we accept them and also our willing ness to care.