Kindness in the Face of Suffering
Panacea Writing Contest: 3rd Place Winner
The following piece, written by Steve Sobel, was selected for 3rd place in the 2nd Panacea Writing Contest.
Kevin was a powerfully built, tall man whose long, scraggly beard, and slow, deliberate manner of speech lent him the air of a biblical prophet. In fact, he generally toted a Bible when he arrived for his follow-up visits at our community mental health center where I was his psychiatrist.
When I first encountered him many years ago, he struck me as an imposing and formidable man who was in extreme distress. Indeed, he had a myriad of reasons to be in distress. He lived alone in his dilapidated mobile home in the countryside. He had long sworn off any contact with family members at whose hands he’d suffered physical and emotional abuse throughout his childhood years. He had spent much of his adult life in the state’s psychiatric hospital.
He was tortured by auditory hallucinations, including the voice of a brother, who threatened to kill him. When not engaged in conversation, he often shouted back at these voices demanding they leave him alone. On one occasion, his agitation was so great that his squirming led to him slipping off the chair onto the floor of my office.
Yet, even in this state of despair, believing himself to be at constant risk of being murdered, Kevin never failed to offer a firm handshake in greeting me and others, along with a smile and a kind word. My predecessor at the clinic, a petite, older woman, often recalled with gratitude how Kevin had intervened on her behalf and interposed himself between her and a patient who was threatening her with bodily harm.
When I started treating Kevin, I switched him from haloperidol to clozapine, the medication of choice for treatment-resistant schizophrenia, on which he managed to remain in the community except for brief periods of time when he became nonadherent with this antipsychotic medication. Unfortunately, though he no longer required prolonged inpatient stays, he continued to be tortured by the voices.
Fiercely independent in character, Kevin would listen politely to advice and suggestions, but always marched to the beat of his own drum. For a period, he insisted on gobbling Tums, despite our strong warnings, until his serum calcium climbed to dangerously elevated levels and led to an ICU admission. Yet, he always seemed to pull through. More than one staff person almost believed he had supernatural powers, a belief that was reinforced by his legendary exploits, including an incident in which he purportedly heaved a heavy table at the state hospital across the room. Though he could become extremely agitated when off his medication, even at his worst, there were no reports of him actually being physically aggressive toward another person. On the contrary, he always showed compassion toward others. This was true, despite facing provocations as when he lived with a roommate who had a proclivity toward punching others in an unprovoked, random manner.
Kevin’s ability to maintain his kind, humane demeanor, despite the cruel challenges of his illness and life circumstances, remains an inspiration to this day.
About the Author: Steve Sobel is a psychiatrist who has worked in community mental health in VT and is a clinical assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of VT. He has previously published satirical pieces, works in medical humanities journals and a short story collection titled: The Five Hundred Pound Amoeba and Other Psychiatric Tales (CreateSpace 2014). He enjoys finding new adventures such as traveling, backcountry skiing, or making maple syrup.