Communication is Care: 9 Empowering Strategies to Guide Patient Healing

By Jennifer George

Are you a healthcare provider who wants to go above and beyond to transform patients’ lives? Do you want to be respected as a leader in your field? Can you imagine working with passion and purpose every day despite organizational demands? Do you have a desire to grow professionally?

This is a practical and intuitive gu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer George
• Release date: Jun 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781988645254

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Introduction

In 2007, I was 25 years old and finishing my final year of the Master of Physical Therapy program at the University of Western in London, Ontario, Canada. It was during this time that my father suddenly became ill. He was diagnosed with end-stage liver cirrhosis and liver cancer, and he required a liver transplant. He was initially denied the opportunity to be on the transplant list, but, as a family, we pleaded, and, once he had passed the pre-op consults, he was eventually enlisted by the transplant team.

We were incredibly relieved, hopeful, and looked forward to a future with our dad in our lives. We excitedly took the pager from the team and eagerly awaited the call that would determine my dad’s fate—the availability of a matching liver. Time was of the essence now; each passing day was unpredictable and increased my dad’s risk of becoming sicker. All we had to do now was wait for the call. We prayed and prayed it would come on time.

Eventually the call came, and the hospital had a matching liver. We thought this was the answer to our prayers, the key that would unlock a life of normalcy again. My sister, my mother, and my father drove up to my apartment. They stayed with me, just up the road from the hospital where he would have his surgery. I thought, This is perfect—my father will have surgery and can recover at my apartment. Things were starting to make sense again, and the timing could not have been better.

Just days before my father received the call telling him that a matching liver was available, my mother had a spiritually enlightened dream. She dreamt of my late Uncle Lewis, a priest and teacher, sitting under a tree, teaching to five young boys. He then handed my mother a wrinkled, off-white-coloured cloth, and said to give it to my dad. After she noticed it was wrinkled, it flew from her hands like a kite taking flight into the sky.

She then saw another man, a faceless, unknown figure wearing black pants. In his hand, he showed her two livers—one was very vibrant, fresh, and healthy, and the other looked sickly. In her dream, she thought the healthy liver would be my dad’s. She interpreted this to be an encouraging dream—reassurance that everything would work out as we believed and imagined.

Although we were grateful, I cannot help but wonder if my dad had a premonition leading up to the surgery. My mom and dad had always been super-intuitively guided by nature. My dad was a man who needed reassurance when it came to most things, especially his health. The day of the surgery, he repeatedly asked the doctors: Are you sure the liver is good? I don’t want to do this again, you know…

At the time, we did not think anything of it, in fact, we thought he was being funny. A few moments before the surgery, we were informed that the liver was from a donor whose heart was not beating. My dad was asked if he was sure about going through with the surgery. We thought we had no choice. You always have a choice, the doctor said.

Agreeing to the transplant seemed to be my dad’s only hope. He was wheeled into the operating room, pensive and afraid. My dad underwent a liver transplant in February 2007. After the surgery, the surgeon came and told us the liver was a bit tough but that there were no other issues. I remember going to see him in the ICU. My sister gave him the thumbs-up, and he responded with relief in his eyes as he dozed back off. I remember feeling so proud of him—he’d defied the odds of being one of the oldest transplant recipients, attracting medical students to observe his surgery and learn about his story.

Hours passed, and my dad’s sleep was getting deeper and deeper, his breathing more laboured. By this time, he had not responded in twenty-four hours. The liver was not taking as we hoped—contrary to my mom’s dream but just as my dad had prophesied. Things were starting to spiral as his body was shutting down. The only option was to put him at the top of the nation-wide recipient list for an emergency liver. He basically had twenty-four hours to receive a new liver, or he would die.

Thankfully, a donor heard our weeping prayers. While my dad underwent his second transplant, he was really sick. His bodily organs had all been shutting down, and, by the time he received the second liver, he’d suffered a brain injury and a slew of other chronic health complications. My life forever changed after that moment, and so did his. I never considered that my dad would go into surgery and come out a different man. I never got to say