A Visit to the Doctor

The other day, I had to go to the doctor's: I had a lump, where previously I had not, so thought it wise to get an expert view.

Needless to say, I consulted the internet, too, and decided it was probably a inguinal hernia, and therefore benign (so I liked that idea...). But I didn't look to see what cancers might cause similar symptoms, though that was, of course, my fear (not least as both my parents died of cancer, my father at a younger age than I am now.)

The doctor was very good: he asked if I had any ideas about what it might be, so I told hem. Then he examined me, and said my diagnosis was in fact correct. Which was a relief.

But it was only a relief because I believe that he is telling the truth - that based on his training and experience, he is sure that the lump is indeed an inguinal hernia.  

However, if he was practicing the new 'patient affirming care' that seems to be the fashion, at least in some aspects of medicine, that would be a problem. It might feel kind to tell me it's only a hernia, and that I am clever to have diagnosed it correctly; but if it is in fact a cancer, that is not a true act of kindness.

It would be equally bad the other way about, of course: if I had decided it was a cancer when it was in fact a hernia, and had demanded chemo and an operation - and he had affirmed my diagnosis and decisions and put me on the road to full cancer treatment. 

Absurd! you may say.

And yet, this is what seems to have happened at the Tavistock; and this is what many lobbyists and activists are continuing to demand now, for people who self-diagnose as trans. And just as I didn't want to look at what other explanations there might be for my lump, there is always a risk that others undertaking self-diagnosis may prefer to avoid explanations that they are less happy with...

The Tavistock's reputation, historically, was built on its exploratory approach: really working with patients to reach a deep understanding of the complexity of their lives and experiences. But at some time that was abandoned, and (according to one clinician, quoted in Hannah Barnes' Time To Think) the gender unit there took on the characteristics of its clients (in a bizarre example of parallel process) becoming strident advocates for puberty blockers etc on demand.

Given the large proportion of the Tavistock's patients who presented with complex conditions, (often including autism), this unquestioning affirmative approach seems appallingly negligent.

Yet it is understandable: there was a real desire to be kind and supportive to these troubled children. But love without truth is as dangerous, in its way, as truth without love. And I think that all those who enter this polarised conversation would do well to remember both halves of that proposition!

And I really, really hope that my doctor was being truthful!

The Art of Living Generously

Over the summer, I have been reading Give: Charity and the art of living generously, by Magnus Macfarlane-Burrow.  Who is he? He is the founder of Mary's Meals, a charity that provides one hot meal a day, at school, for some 2 million children who otherwise would not eat, and probably would not attend school either. This is a wonderful way to attend both to the giving a fish and the teaching to fish aspects of help.

Give is his reflections on what he is doing, and why; and the philosophy that he is developing around the work of charities, including reflections on what has gone wrong, so spectacularly, with some of the larger NGOs, and been exploited by politicians and the press to give overseas aid a bad name. 

I was particularly struck by his insistence that the minute we think of ourselves as better than those who are less fortunate, we are on the wrong path. And one of the dangers is that we then prioritise the efficiency and the effectiveness of our operation over compassion and companionship with actual people.

Working as I do with many Universities, I started to apply that to University administration: how easy it is to focus on recruitment targets, on ref results, and so on, with the risk of forgetting the individual student, or the individual researcher, or the people whom the research is designed to benefit.

And then I realised the trap I had walked into: it is always easy to spot the mote in someone else's eye: what about the beam in my own? And that led to a more sobering reflection about how easy it is for me to be focused on meeting my needs through my work - whether ego-needs, financial targets, or reputational needs - and take my eye off the true work that I aspire to do.

An example of that is the Thinking Partnership programme I am running this autumn.  Open programmes are notoriously difficult for small providers to fill; and I have been focused on gathering a rich group for this programme, for the benefit of all.  That has been made more difficult by people postponing on to the Spring course, leaving gaps in the cohort, so I have had to work hard on filling the places - and have done so.  But I realise I have been so focused on that, that I have not (yet) really thought about the individuals in any depth, and how best I can meet and exceed their expectations and needs from the programme.

I know from experience that once I am in the room with them, they will have my full attention (I am good at that bit), but nonetheless at this stage of the process it is easy to see them as numbers on a sheet I am trying to fill, rather than individuals worthy of my full attention even at this stage of the process.  

So some valuable learning there, which I will strive to apply.  And more broadly a good reminder at the start of a new cycle after the summer break, to keep my focus on my real work; that is to challenge and support the people with whom I work in ways that enable them to learn and to grow more fully into the person they are capable of being, and so be not only more effective, but also ever more human in their work with others. 

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Image: Domenico Fetti: The Parable of the Mote and the Beam, from Wikipedia Commons (Creative Commmons licence)

Charity Miles and Charity Photos

I blogged a little while ago about Charity Miles. It is such a simple and brilliant idea. So far this year, just by walking the dog, going for a run in the morning, and longer walks at weekends and during the Easter break, I have raised $77.96 for Charity Water.

I have also told many other people about it, some of whom were similarly enthused (at least to my face) so I hope that they too are taking money from the likes of Johnson and Johnson, and giving it to worthwhile good causes.

But more recently, I have started using the Donate a Photo app. That one is even simpler: you upload a photo, and they (Johnson and Johnson) give a dollar to a charity. What's the catch? You can only donate one photo a day. So that means that if you do it all year, you have transferred $365 from J&J to a charity of your choosing (from quite a good list of choices.)  I am giving to Operation Smile, which provides free surgery for children with cleft lips.

So if you have a smartphone, download the apps, and help redistribute wealth from large corporations to charities doing some real good in the world!

Charity Miles

I have recently discovered Charity Miles. It is a simple and brilliant idea. You download the app to your mobile, and then every time you go for a walk, run or cycle, you select a charity. A sponsor (typically someone like Johnson & Johnson, who have a clear interest in being connected with healthy lifestyles) donates an amount of money to the charity of your choice, based on the miles you cover. 

The sponsor then emails you, and the app prompts you to tweet your support or put it on Facebook, which I suppose is what the sponsor is buying. The amount per mile is small, but it adds up.

Just by my usual routine of a run with the dog in the morning, a walk during the day, and a brief walk last thing at night, I will be racking up a little over $20 a month. Given that we often also go for longer walks at the weekends and in the holidays (especially when not entirely surrounded by floodwater...) I reckon that will be about $250 over the year, and any charity would welcome that.

The app offers a long list of charities which you can support. I am quite fussy about giving to charity, for various reasons, but found several I would be happy to donate to. The one I am choosing to support is Charity Water. Water is such a basic necessity, and I like their operating model of working with communities to devise and deliver sustainable water solutions. I had not come across this particular charity before, so that is another benefit of Charity Miles.

So if you take more exercise than I do: get the app and raise money for charity by doing nothing extra, other than remembering to start it each time you go for a run.

And if you take less exercise than I do, then get the app, and make a resolution to do a little more!