by Joyce Good Henderson

Created on: February 21, 2009

Essay: Pain in Life

The assignment was to write down why he was angry.

During my first visit with this patient, a 74-year-old man confined to a chair by multiple medical problems, I felt as if I had walked into the middle of a battle zone. His wife flitted in and out of the room at his beck and call and most of his calls were characterized by anger, bitterness and frustration. The more he complained and criticized, the more she apologized, to the point of tears. They seemed to be caught in a cycle of accusation and excuse, stress and distress.

I immediately wondered if his anger might mask some other emotion, perhaps fear, or depression. He needed to vent, but he also needed some tools to handle anger more effectively and appropriately.

"What did you do before you retired?" I asked him.

He had been a long distance truck driver in the upper Midwest for forty-five years and left it all behind to build his dream house in Florida where he could play golf everyday. Today, he could barely travel two feet from his recliner to a hospital bed.

"How long have you been married?"

"Fifty years, if I make it to November," he answered.

"It's been a good fifty years, hasn't it?"

He looked at me intently and gave me a half-smile; his wife calmed for a moment and dried her tears.

"Tell me about how you met her."

He spun a lovely story of their first date, of marrying young, working hard and raising four children. They had had wonderful years of shared dreams but, like so many of my elderly patients, life for the last few years had not turned out the way they expected.

"Can you hold a pen to a piece of paper and write a letter?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Then, before my next visit, I want you to write about your feelings. Tell me why you are angry. Make a list if you want of what makes you angry. But, end the letter with three things for which you are thankful."

He agreed to give it a try. I didn't expect that he would follow through with it. I was pleasantly surprised two days later when he greeted me with a smile and a firm handshake.

"I slept better the last two nights than I have in months," he said. "I did what you asked. I wrote a letter. It's addressed to God." He handed me a small piece of paper and I read it. He had listed five reasons for his anger: he couldn't get up and walk, he needed to use oxygen for the simplest tasks, he couldn't play golf any more, he couldn't drive his van and he wanted his health back. Then, he finished the letter with his gratitude for his wife, his children and still being alive. "I know God isn't going to answer my letter," he said. "But writing it made me feel better."

Together, we discussed how we might work on obtaining an electric wheelchair to improve his mobility and I shared a couple other stress management techniques with him. When I was ready to leave, his wife walked with me to the door. "Your letter idea helped me as well," she said. "He started to write and I noticed he was having trouble holding the pen and paper so I asked him if I could help. Instead of being angry with me, he handed me the pen and began to dictate his letter. I felt closer to him than I have since he became sick."

"Want to keep on writing?" I asked.

She nodded. "I'm sure God won't mind another letter or two."

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