Many years ago, my sister trotted off to an Asian country for a year's exchange with Rotary. She was gone, she came back, and she appeared and was better for the experience.
Then one day, my eldest daughter comes home from school with the statement that she would like to apply for a Rotary Exchange position. We had told her about it beforehand, but whatever way, she discovered the opportunity. We thought, "yeah! That would be good for her!" So time being what it is, it comes to pass that she is accepted, plans made and then last weekend she goes.
It is the inalienable right of every father to deliver gift wrapped wisdom for their child to mull over while enjoying the sights, sounds and seasons of Europe. The exchange program drums in the 5-6 Don'ts, all of which start with "D" - no Drugs, no Drinking, no Dating, no Driving, no Disfigurement. I went one better and told her about the 3 G's that I wanted her to be all year - genuine, gentle and gracious. All good things for her to hone.
We also thought "12 months .... easy". Yeah, right! Big doctor, life is going along alright, really solid emotionally. How little we know ourselves.
The first night launched us into all sorts of intense feelings of grief, separation and loss. And she was hardly on the plane, never mind off at the other end! Over the next few days this torrent of emotion (which is objectively quite silly, because she has been on school trips longer than this) has settled into something less sharp.
But now the anguish is a more persistent sorrow. But the initial reactions reminded me of Auden's poem - "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone" - the sentiment just fits. The sorrow came in waves, thankfully of short duration. I just wanted her back here beside me. I had not taken her for granted, but I hadn't realised the depth of the relationship either.
On Monday I went to clinic where it took me about 45 minutes to compose myself to see patients. Thank heavens for the registrar. Towards the end of the clinic, we saw a woman who had just come to the end of her cancer treatment. She had developed some radiation changes which she interpreted as her cancer having come back. Examination revealed the real problem, and when we told her it wasn't cancer, she started crying.
This emotional side to cancer is not something that I have ever really considered. Firstly, I haven't seen it that often, and it is usually after bad news so its expected. Also, as the doctor without cancer (at present) I don't feel it.
What was interesting yesterday was that I found myself understanding her emotional response. Also I found myself more gentle and gracious in clinic with other patients and staff.
Having discussed the 3 G's with my daughter, I hadn't realised that I would be learning this same lesson. And before her.
