Recently, my doctor prescribed a drug to regulate my heart rhythm—something that I have periodically needed after my Marfan-related heart surgery. The drug, digoxin, is derived from the foxglove plant, which has beautiful, bell-shaped flowers growing out of a tall stalk. He suggested I look at a picture of the foxglove and think about “the power of the flower.” This comment is remarkable for two reasons:
First, he is a very conventional doctor, not prone to alternative or complementary medicine, although he is open-minded about the healing potential of these practices. In the thirty years since he has been my doctor, I have rarely heard him utter such an unscientific description of a medicine.
Second, over the past thirty years, he has come to know me very well. Most importantly, he has always seen, heard and respected me for the person I am. And part of this “seeing” is also understanding how best to communicate with me. Knowing of my predilection for integrative and complementary medical care, he chose to use a phrase that would resonate with me. While digoxin has been proven to help the heart in randomized, double-blinded clinical trials (the “gold standard” of scientific research), perhaps he was thinking about how I might best receive this information. In so doing, he demonstrated profound sensitivity to his patient.
The treatment worked: My heart reverted to normal rhythm. Was it the digoxin? Was it the Power of the Flower? Who knows? But I am grateful to have in my life a brilliant physician who is also — although he might shudder at the phrase —a gifted healer.
For more about the history and medicinal uses of this interesting plant, see this post.
2 Comments
November 20, 2007 at 10:46 am
[...] The Power of the Flower, Own Your Own Health talks about how physicians who tailor their communications individually to [...]
March 18, 2008 at 5:17 pm
What an unusual doctor! He truly is a “healer.” To prescribe what he felt you needed but to search for a way for you to accept it–given who you are and what you believe in–demonstrates such sensitivity and thoughtfulness. He reminds me of Bernard Lown, M.D., who wrote “The Lost Art of Healing.”