Volume 21, No. 2, Spring 2000
Below is a sampling from other perspectives on spirituality. Your own reflections, objections, and questions are welcomed. "InkLinks", we hope, will become a place for an inclusive and varied conversation.
–– J. A.
(1) Norm Phelps, "Buddhism and Animals," The Animals’ Agenda; Vol. 19, No. 5 (Sep/Oct 1999) 37.
In Zimbabwe, spirituality profoundly effects many health care decisions. It is basic, for instance, to beliefs about the etiology of disease. Someone becomes ill if the ancestor spirits have become displeased with his or her behavior or thoughts, or that of their relatives. If one seeks care from a traditional healer (n'anga) the healer often intervenes with the ancestor spirit for forgiveness, as well as treating the patient with herbs. An example of this concerning birth complications is the belief that arrested labor is the result of the laboring woman's infidelity. Certain rituals are performed by the traditional midwife, the woman confesses, is cleansed, and labor is believed to progress normally.
It is not unusual for a patient to seek care from both a n'anga and a (western-trained) physician, to cover the issues of spirituality as well as formal medicine. Frequently a n'anga is called into hospital to address a patient's spiritual needs if a visit to the n'anga's home is not possible. My research with chronically hypertensive women in Zimbabwe revealed that praying and attending church regularly is perceived to be an essential aspect of healing.
In the United States, I'm afraid, spirituality is woefully neglected as part of most health care encounters. This is particularly true in ambulatory care, even with profoundly ill patients.
Barbara Sparks, R.N.
Department of Osteopathic Surgical Specialties
While thinking over emerging concepts of spirituality that enrich the practice of medicine, I suddenly recollected the question our GP always asked, no matter what prompted our visit, during our sabbatical leaves in Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Edinburgh. URI or whatever, when I’d voiced my chief complaint, the rejoinder would be "And how are you within yourself, Margaret?" Within myself??? Indeed! I can remember being totally non-plussed by this question and mentally discarding possibilities from a familiar list of organ systems that might be involved with the "what" or "where" of the "within" that was being addressed. The question catapulted me into another orbit and my chief complaint receded in significance as my larger, untidy universe came into view. I mentally thanked him for caring enough to ask and said, "Fine!"
Margaret Jones, Ph.D.
Department of Pathology
Spirituality in my professional life, as in my personal, is dominant. Spirituality encompasses three areas. Christianity, as a part of my spirituality, has been very troubling at times, and I have had to move to that particular interpretation that I know is the cultural part of my spiritual development.
Spirituality helps to shape my professional work ideas, dictates the tools and ethics. Spirituality helps guide choices for professional success. For example, my educational accomplishments are as much about a weapon of survival, a tool for change, and a means to service to the community as about pride and success. Spirituality is also a part of my physical, emotional, and economic endeavors. Spirituality dictates a sound body and mind, as well as good economic habits learned through tithing. I am a spirit, therefore my spirituality cannot help but influence all aspects of my being.
Georgia Padonu, R.N., Dr.P.H.
College of Nursing
I've never understood how my colleagues in veterinary medicine could argue the position held by agnostics or atheists. The mysteries, complexities, and simple beauties of biology and physiology have always been connected in my mind to a higher being. That's where my own personal spirituality first linked with my chosen profession . . . in my high school science class. But it didn't end there. With experience and age come an entirely different consideration of spirituality . . .the magical (and sometimes unexplainable) bond between people and the animals under their care.
I recently called a client to ask how his very sick cat was doing at home. It had recently been released from the MSU Veterinary Teaching Hospital with a stomach feeding tube in place. Things hadn't been going very well at all. After watching the cat's condition deteriorate rapidly over 5 days, and after much discussion, the owners had decided to have their cat euthanized. I happened to be the first person the owner spoke to about the decision, and although he admitted that this cat was not his favorite (they had 7 indoor cats), he was still choked up and cried during our conversation. I was reminded, once again, of the power of the human-animal bond-something that can bring strong people to their knees or lift up and encourage those that seemingly have no hope. If that isn't spiritual, then I don't know what is.
Sarah K. Abood, DVM, Ph.D.
Brooke Purves: After delivery my first child, Ana, had breathing problems which forced her into the NICU. My partner, Steve, and I were unable to hold her or attempt breastfeeding for two full days. The separation and the images of her limp body, sustained by tubes in her nose, head, and arm, oxygen hood sequestering her delicately featured face and the blips on the myriad of monitors only enhanced the postpartum depression felt by all of us. When I was released from the hospital 48 hours after birth, the spiritual connection of mother to child had not had an opportunity to kindle. The experience had been surreal, as though she was not really my child, as though I had not really delivered.
Where I lived The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the dominant religion. The head nurse asked me if I was a member of the religion, and I was. This nurse suggested that we call in some of elders of the church to administer a blessing of the sick to our ailing infant. "It really does help," she told us. We gave such a blessing, and two days later Ana was well enough to go home with us. I appreciate that nurse being so in tune with our needs that she suggested something we should have thought of on our own, but because we were in unexpected circumstances, did not.
Allison Wolf: When I was fourteen I came down with a mysterious illness, involving sudden weight loss, severe pain, and a recurring facial rash, that no one could diagnose. My experience with the physicians was frustrating and disillusioning. They did not listen to me, sometimes did not even know my name, barged into my room at 6:00 AM and ordered me to tell the story of my illness to yet another specialist. I felt that they never actually listened to that story; rather they kept trying to fit me into the mold of the disease that they decided that I should have. They kept telling me that I was wrong in my descriptions, gave me tests and medication without informing me, and threatened me with further undesired treatments if I disobeyed their orders.
The nurses had an opposite reaction. They did not discuss medical conditions, tests, or diagnoses. Rather, they talked to me, about me. They asked me about who I was and what made me tick. They tapped into a part of me that could not be quantified or explained, but needed comfort, a part that no medicine could address. When they discovered that I was a Jew in a Presbyterian hospital, they offered to contact a rabbi in case I wanted to discuss spiritual and emotional matters in a religious, rather than secular, context. Though that was not something for which I felt a great need, I appreciated the fact that these nurses understood I had a spiritual side. Their sensitivity helped me use the time that I was ill to search for who and what I was, as fourteen-year-olds will do. Because of the way the nurses communicated with me, I always knew that someone thought I was more than a patient.
Neither of us claim that the spiritual dimension of our care made the difference in our recoveries. But the respect that was shown gave us spiritual comfort. Because we were set at ease, not only were we able to begin healing, but also the people around us, like Ana and Steve. "Spirit is the network of love by means of which we experience, communicate, learn, realize and grow..."
Brooke Purves and Allison B. Wolf,
Doctoral Candidates in the
Department of Philosophy