Wikipedia defines listening as:

Hearing, or audition, is one of the traditional five senses and refers to the ability to detect sound.

In human beings, hearing is performed by the ears [...]

Usually when I do web research, I tend to accept basic definitions of this sort … especially since, if I do a bit more research, I find that other “official sources” say pretty much the same thing …

Dictionary.com defines listening as:

lis·ten
intr.v. lis·tened, lis·ten·ing, lis·tens

1. To make an effort to hear something: listen to the radio; listening for the bell.

… however, they add a second definition:

2. To pay attention; heed: “She encouraged me to listen carefully to what country people called mother wit” (Maya Angelou).

That shows me that perhaps I shouldn’t take Wikipedia’s definition as complete! Wait! I wonder if Dictionary.com’s definition is incomplete too …

I think that it may well be. I’ve seen evidence that listening is so much more than a sense performed with the ears, or even a way of “paying attention.” I think that some people learn how to listen far more deeply than that … and are attentive to more than just the spoken word …

A young doctor has recently begun blogging. The first part of his blog is mostly about art … and makes me realize that he’s naturally attentive to fine detail, and his heart has learned to find beauty wherever it looks. Sometime in June, his blog changed tone a bit … and we got our first lessons in learning to listen with our hearts:

I told three young women over the phone that they lost their father. I listened patiently as all three broke down on the phone. I listened to their moaning and wailing. I remembered what it felt like to lose my father. Each call lasted less then 5 minutes. I never met these women in person. I never spoke to any of them again. Each one of them has left an indelible mark on my soul. I have never experienced grief so pure or innocent. And I will always feel responsible for that grief.

Gradually, the lessons became more poignant … they were living parables of what it means to listen with everything you are:

She usually was confident, stood tall, commanded the room. But when I ran into her in the hallway, after coming back from vacation, she was different. She wasn’t standing as tall and her shoulders were hunched mildly forward. She was leaning slightly to the right. As she smiled to say hello I could see that her posture was betraying her. Immediately I knew that her mother had died. As I offered my condolences she looked at me with confusion, she hadn’t told anyone in the office yet.

There is a lot of information in the subleties of gesture and mannerisms. They convey unspoken words if we are able to pick up on them.

I couldn’t seem to get Mrs. W out of my mind. Nothing made sense. Her marked physical deterioration should have an obvious physiologic cause….but it didn’t. I found myself deep in thought as my next patient walked into the office. As he came in I felt my whole demeanor change. He was a large man and very physical. I could almost feel his need to take up space. For the first time in years I actually felt threatened in my own office. This was a new sensation to me. I quietly took a history and examined him. I diagnosed him with a simple upper respiratory infection and was about to send him out when he said, “By the way…thank you for caring for my wife”. I quickly looked at the demographic page and with shock and horror realized that although they had different last names, this was Mrs. W’s husband. I quickly excused myself from the examining room and almost ran to my office. I called Mrs. W who answered the phone and seemed pleasently surprised to hear from me. I asked immediately, “so how long as he been abusing you?”, There was a long paunse and then, “Dr. G. I……….”. And then she hung up.

I don’t want to embarrass this fine young physician, but I would like to hold him up as an example to all of us - those who are in the medical profession, and those of us who need to learn to listen to our husbands, wives, children … the lost and demoralized co-worker … the unknown woman at the grocery store with the tear streaks on her face …

Listening … with the soul. Feeling the unspoken communications … hearing the sound of the hand that never dares reach out for the simple, but desperately needed, comfort of an understanding heart.

Thank you, my new blogging friend, for reminding us how important it is to listen … and to love.

Please - go and discover this wise young man’s blog.

Well, Dr. Bob has posted his promised proposals for fixing health care: “The Maze - Part 8, Is There an Exit? - Part II.”

He suggests:

♦ Pay physicians by time
♦ Dismantle the dysfunctional relationship between health-care payors and health-care providers
♦ Provide tax credits for physicians to see the poor

He fills out each proposal in detail. If you’re interested in health care, the entire series is a must read. It plays right into the “Health Services and Information Systems I’ll be taking beginning on Sunday, and I have a feeling that I’m going to get the opportunity to refer back to it during my course.

Dr. Bob says:

[...] for those of us on the front lines–physicians, other health-care providers, and patients–drastic changes must begin, lest our system implode under its own weight.

This concerns us all, and if we don’t begin to effect some changes, some of us may not have the chance to live to regret it …

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Here are links to the earlier posts in the series:

The Maze - Part 1

The Maze - Part 2

The Maze - Part 3

The Maze - Part 4

The Maze - Part 5

The Maze - Part 6

The Maze - Part 7, Is There an Exit? - Part I

Grands Rounds is up at Dr. Chris Rangel’s blog!

It looks like Dr. Rangel did his usual excellent job! He has a great blog - if you haven’t met him yet, you should rectify that right now! He’s one of my favorite people to get into a “discussion” with! ;o)

I hope I get the chance to get over there and read all the submissions … hopefully after my trip back home. Wish I could blog and drive! *cough* 0.o

June 30th was not “just like any other day.” That’s the night my oldest son had a parrrrty in the barn. He had no less than 4 live bands, several kegs, and one very hot Mama. That hot Mama was me … at about 3:30 AM … when the whooping and hollering still hadn’t died down enough for me to get some sleep.

July 1st dawned bright and early … what day doesn’t? It wasn’t much like a typical day though … I’d had about 3 hours of sleep, and had to get ready to go to a pool party. Ohhhh yeah. I was a lot more interested in having a party watching the backs of my eyelids in a prone position on my waterbed! However, I dutifully rose and faced the day …

… only to regret it in short order.

Doug hollered from in the kitchen: “We don’t have any water pressure for some reason!” Ayuh! Great start. A rather large pipe had burst in the cellar, and we had a pool of our own down there! There weren’t going to be any morning showers until the leak had been fixed!

For the next several hours, Doug ran from store to store looking for the right sized pipe, never did find what he wanted, but brought something home that he managed to jury rig together so that he could turn the water back on. By that time, we were already supposed to be at the party.

Once he was done, I gratefully made my way up the stairs to turn myself into a clean Moof. Surely things would improve from here, right?

Well …

While I was busy making a wet mess in the bathroom, my special ordered baked beans were busy making a sticky one in the kitchen. They spilled out of the crock pot, onto the stove … under the burners … down the side of the stove … and across the floor. The dog was gleefully lapping up the sweet sticky stuff as it ran from the stove to the cupboards …

Two and a half hours late, we finally dragged in to the pool party … baked beans in tow.

Libations flowed almost as fluidly as the pipe in the cellar … but were far more pleasant! I took my pictures to share while I was there:

This is Chyrl Butler … the hostess with the mostest! This lady has attitude! Chyrl and I have been in the same parish twice … in two different towns. She’s one of those people I was meant to be friends with … :o)

This is Don Butler … and sitting on his shoulders is his granddaughter Krista. I’ve developed a reputation over there … I’m know as the “Toe Lady” because I, well, *cough* threaten to eat toes. Here, Gramps is offering me a fine set of toes. There were great squeals of protest and a lot of splashes and wiggles before I could partake though.

This fine young man who’s covered in kids is Mark Butler. When he a was cute, curly haired little blond cherub, I was virtually certain that he would grow up to be my son-in-law, but after a long, long friendship, he and my daughter took different routes as young adults. He’d have made a great son-in-law!

This is Chyrl’s son-in-law, John. Notice that I’m being studiously ignored. I got several pictures of John’s hand where his face should be before finally getting this shot …

Mr. and Mrs. Wayne Helliwell and company! We’ve been waiting forever for that new arrival!!! Jill has the voice of an angel … you should hear that girl sing!

Jill’s mom, and my dear friend: Mary Ann Ferrigno. Mary Ann was made to be the mother of 50 kids, and at least 100 grandbabies … Jill is an only child, so she’s got a lot of work to do! ;o)

Now … this is a great story. This girl, Nancy (Lavoie) Roberge was at the party. She and Mary Ann know each other, because they’re both nurses in local physician’s offices. I couldn’t keep myself from staring, because I had that: “I know that I know this person, but from where?” sort of feeling.

I finally caught her alone and told her that I was certain I knew her … and we began to explore where I could know her from. We eliminated everything for the last decade, and then for the last two decades … and then for the last three decades … and by that time, I was beginning to think I’d lost my precious last few marbles.

Finally - we hit it! More than 40 years ago, this girl and I went to grammar school together up in Lewiston, Maine. She was two years behind me, had the same teachers, and we shared many memories of our earliest school days. She didn’t realize that our Alma Mater has been torn down for a bit over a year now.

Isn’t it amazing how small the world is?

The party was great … we straggled home late in the evening, carrying an empty crock pot. I had indulged heavily with a particular wonderful salsa, and lots and lots of Coronas with lime …

I had a nice quiet night - for a change - and awoke yesterday morning, bright and early, to prepare myself to drive up to Bangor (which is where I am right now) to visit with my son and daughter-in-law …

… but I woke up with Montezuma whispering words of revenge in my ear, and immediately thought of that delicious salsa I’d practically finished by myself. Ayuh. *sigh*

Well, I can’t say it hasn’t been an interesting 2 week vacation so far … 0.o

Dr. Bob has changed gears. He just posted: “The Maze - Part 7, Is There an Exit? - Part I.”

Dr. Bob says:

A house built on sand cannot stand–and the mansion of American medicine, still rich in grand gables and ornate glass, is sagging from a rotting foundation, swaybacked from footings set on unsteady soil. The termites eroding its timbers are many, rooted in men’s souls as much as in Senate halls. We demand the finest care for ourselves, sparing no expense to others. We demand perfection of those capable only of imperfection. We hide behind our terror of death, unspoken yet unrelenting, seeking false hope in technology and technique against that dark looming fortress which stands unbending against our extravagant but ultimately fruitless endeavors. We pass law upon law and regulation upon regulation, engorging a byzantine monster so immense it can no longer ambulate–yet still we feed the beast, hoping against hope it may someday become the chrysalis which will carry us to a better world. It will not, and can not, for it has not the wherewithall to do that which is most needed: its own dismantling.

Dr. Bob continues his excellent series … and promises to share his ideas on beginning to take the kinks out our “byzantine monster” of a maze …

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Here are links to the earlier posts in the series:

The Maze - Part 1

The Maze - Part 2

The Maze - Part 3

The Maze - Part 4

The Maze - Part 5

The Maze - Part 6