A flashbulb memory emerged from the archives of my life. It was the summer of 1997, and we were in the process of moving my disabled sister, Wendy, to a care facility. She was in a bedroom in my parents’ house. She was a woman in her 30s who required 24-hour care that her aging parents could no longer provide. Her life was being unraveled around her. Her ornaments were being carefully packed for shipping, the cords of her precious stereo were unplugged and set aside, tangled like a snake. My sister couldn’t understand what was going on. She looked up at me from the floor where she was sitting and shouted angrily: “I’m so sorry.”Why? Why? Do things need to change?
This memory has been coming back to me in recent weeks, ever since the US presidential debates. On the surface, Wendy has nothing to remind her of President Biden’s life, since she never had the chance to be involved in politics or run a country. But the more I see Biden getting caught up in the wheels of time or trying to avoid confronting it, the more I realize he is fighting the same war my sister has been fighting for decades: we are all eventually called to the front lines, where we end up losing.
Wendy suffered from a brain tumor as a child. Surgery to remove the tumor was fraught with post-operative complications. Yet she overcame many obstacles and lived to age 52, regaining mental and physical functions that doctors initially deemed completely lost. In many ways, she was the beating heart of our family. I have always felt that her life speaks to the kind of people we are. She was someone who overcame obstacles, and we never stopped betting on her. It’s a good story. It’s a Hollywood story, even.
At some point, a “overcoming adversity” story can turn into tragedy, at first in a microscopic way. The line between hope and delusion becomes thin, and in those moments, you may not see yourself or your family crossing it. Some people never walk again. Some people’s brains never recover. And some people never overcome apparent adversities. They aren’t even really “adversities” because the desired outcome was impossible to achieve. One of my most difficult jobs as a physician is to help patients and their families confront the moments when such adversities lead them to an inevitable truth: a truth we all want to resist: when it comes to our health, everyone’s luck will eventually run out.
Like my sister, Biden survived risky neurosurgery. Developed an aneurysm in 1988But a far more important commonality between my sister and the US president is their personal stories of overcoming adversity, something Biden alluded to in his widely criticized speech. interview With George Stephanopoulos. Biden may be the author of his own story of victory, but my sister’s story came from the people who loved her. Both were cast in classic Hollywood roles as warriors who never give up, no matter how hard the odds.
Working as a physician has given me a sobering perspective on the concept of a “fighter.” While personal traits such as resilience are certainly important, they cannot defeat the inevitable. Decline and death are an inevitable part of life.
nevertheless, still There was a time when I believed my sister would overcome all odds. In the beginning, she certainly seemed to bounce back after each near-death experience. But as the years went by, with each new medical challenge, she became like a deflated basketball. She no longer bounced. She deflated and slowly faded away. Her brain, weakened by the surgeries and subsequent seizures, had no capacity to absorb new damage. By the time she died, she was a far cry from her former self. If she had nine lives, she must have suffered for nine of them.
Biden, too, seems depressed, an empty shell of his once gritty, inspiring political career. His lack of insight into American concerns about his health is a worrying sign in itself. Nothing seems to shake his determination to bounce back.
The irony, of course, is that Biden’s warrior self-image has served him well so far. He’s bounced back before, smiled and carried on. His family has likely come to believe his “warrior” status as some kind of unshakable mythical truth. And I’m sure that story has given them strength and comfort during a very difficult time. Don’t give up on your dad, others have made the same mistakes.
But it’s not just “other people” who can make poor judgments when it comes to our loved ones. Some research It has been shown that cognitive impairment in elderly patients may go unnoticed by family members unless accompanied by behavioral symptoms or signs. Even for someone struggling with a simple task like toasting bread, our long-standing trust in that person’s abilities can blind us to what is happening in real time. For families who have seen their loved ones get out of crisis so many times, whether it’s when the toaster or the whole house is on fire, it’s hard to believe they won’t see the same magic trick again, at the last minute.
Time. Isn’t that what it comes down to? Not just the right timing, but death by the incisions of time – a million tiny incisions. The story of our lives cannot be rewritten. Things have to change. Sometimes we don’t understand why, and it hurts. But it doesn’t change the reality of what’s going to happen next.
Gillian Houghton is an author and physician whose first book, We Are All Perfectly Fine: A Memoir of Love, Medicine and Healing, was adapted for television. Gillian Houghton MD
