Posted By Keeley Pratt,
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
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I recall from my family therapy training hearing a particular supervisor continually repeat the phrase, "It’s not about the content; it’s all about the process.” I employ the readers of this post to apply that same understanding to the topic of family systems and nutrition, for the purpose of this post is to consider the process of feeding and dining together, not the content of the food itself.
|This blog post is the first in a month-long series about the bi-directional relationship of family systems and nutrition.|
Statistically speaking, more than one-third (35.7%) of adults reading this post (located in the United States) are obese;1 for those readers who have children, 31.8% of them struggle with being overweight, and 16.9% are obese.2 I note these statistics because every single person reading this post can either relate personally to these statistics or loves someone who can. Food is not only meant to be life-sustaining, but also should be enjoyed and experienced socially.
Think back to the last time you had your favorite food served to you… your ultimate favorite food in the world. Think back to how the food looked on your plate. Was it served hot or cold? Was there steam coming off of it? What did the presentation look like? Who cooked it for you? How did it smell? Could you smell it cooking in the kitchen? Does the smell remind you of any warm memories when this same dish was served? Now, recall getting ready to take the first bite of your favorite food. Who was with you when you were served the dish? Did you have to use a knife to cut it? Did you scoop it with a spoon? Remember how all your senses were preparing to taste this food, your favorite food.
Finally, you take a bite, slowly allowing the flavors to absorb into your taste buds, remembering the familiar texture of the food in your mouth. Then you swallow, and smile knowing that there is more where that bite came from. You look around at the other(s) with you, expecting their reaction to be as blissful as your own – to enjoy in the experience of sharing this meal together. Our family and community in many ways determine which foods are purchased, how they are prepared and served, and the dining atmosphere where food consumption takes place. All of these elements employ family systems theory and elements of process that can ultimately impact the experience of feeding and eating.
The purpose of this post is to briefly introduce the dynamics around the process of feeding. This blog is not to discuss "food” itself, or to blame anyone for their (mis)use of food. Additionally, I want to be mindful that our friends and colleagues in Nutrition and Food Science are better equipped to talk about the "content” or nutrient density of food.
1. Food is meant to be enjoyed WITH others: A family that eats together, stays together
The process of eating is meant to be a social experience where family members can join together not only to eat, but also to commune about how their day went. This is a time, set aside routinely, that can serve as a touch point for parents and children, romantic partners, extended family, and others to communicate about their daily ups and downs. In fact, we know that the benefits of family meals include decreased chances of developing, substance abuse, depression, eating disorders, and obesity. Specifically, youth who participate in family dinners with their parents have better overall academic performance, higher self-esteem, a lower risk of teen pregnancy, and greater sense of resilience.
2. Food ≠ love, Feeding = LOVE
We have been taught by our parents, and our parents-parents that love is often shown through the foods we serve at meals. Love motivates us to prepare food for our family, often cooking for hours before it’s served, so that the final product can be enjoyed by all. This can become a challenge in families when a child or partner may refuse to eat a food, critique how a food is prepared, or simply may not be hungry. It’s not hard to imagine how upsetting it could be when a family member refuses to eat or critiques the food that is prepared, lovingly, perhaps for hours-on-end on top of a long workday.
It’s important to remember that the process of feeding is still employed even when food consumption may not take place as smoothly as expected. For example, if your school-age child states, "I hate when you cook green beans!” or your partner remarks, "This chicken is a little burnt this time.” These aren’t personal insults or an indication about how much they love the person who prepared the food for them. We need to encourage our clients and patients to not get caught in a trap where a fight over food might take place. The time we get to socialize with our families every day is limited by busy schedules and demands, and although feelings can get hurt when the effort put into the food preparation may not be acknowledged, family time shouldn’t be taken up by "food fights”.
In order to stay focused on the process of feeding, we should expand from thinking about the content of the food being served (or what is "rejected”) to the process of what is going on with the family at dinner. For example, a child could be having a bad day overall, and the refusal of food is just an indication of something upsetting that happened at school. If a partner makes a comment about the quality of the food, clients and patients can use the opportunity to have a conversation about how the feedback makes them feel. Ideally, conversation should shift over family dinners from food or what is being served to the day’s events.
Other meal-time process considerations include:
- How are individuals making eye contact during the meal?
- Is everyone participating in the conversation during the meal?
- What kind of tone are individuals using during conversation?
- Does everyone get up at the same time?
- How are second servings asked for?
- What kind of thanks is given to the person who prepared the meal?
- What kinds of topics are brought up during the meal, and how does each person respond?
|Keeley J. Pratt, PhD, IMFT, is an assistant professor in the couples and family therapy program in the department of Human Sciences at The Ohio State University, an independently licensed marriage and family therapist, and an AAMFT approved supervisor. Her research focuses on family-based factors that contribute to or are modifiable in the treatment of child/adolescent obesity. She has over 50 presentations at local, national, and international conferences and has authored over 25 manuscripts and book chapters about child and adolescent family-based or integrated obesity treatment, medical family therapy, and supervision in healthcare settings. Currently, Dr. Pratt is working to expand family therapy education to include clinician training on systemic weight-related behaviors (including feeding) and working with clients who are struggling with overweight and obesity. |
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Posted By Barry Jacobs,
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
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When he became my step-father when I was 17, he and I never made eye contact. We resented each other’s presence in the house and tried to avoid one another as much as possible. He wanted my mother all to himself. I resented the fact that he was taking my deceased father’s place. We passed each other in the narrow hallways with heads down, barely grunting in recognition. If I’d never looked at him again after I reached college age and moved out, it would have been all right by me.
Now, 37 years later, each time I visit him in the dementia unit in the nursing home, I find myself staring at him, gawking at his transformation. His body is now all jutting bones and red sores. His face is a stiff, gaunt mask covered with flaking skin. He gazes back at me just as intensely. I wonder what his blue eyes see as they stare at me, what is going on in the shrunken brain behind them. But his eyes quickly go vacant—unfocused and uncomprehending—with too-narrow pupils. It is clear he no longer recognizes me. In his severely demented and diminished state, I no longer recognize him
|What should I wish for him? It only embarrasses me a little that I’ve spent most of my life hating him and wishing him dead. Now that dementia is slowly draining all life from him, I’m ambivalent about what I want to occur. Part of it has to do with my mother’s feelings. During her three-times-a-week visits to the dementia unit’s crowded day room, she still takes small pleasure if she can coax him to eat everything on his lunch tray, as if he were some stubborn toddler. If he also babbles to her—mostly random words and sentence fragments without meaning--she is thrilled for the rest of the day. Even though she has signed nursing home orders to let nature take its course in the event he becomes seriously ill, rather than having him sent to the hospital, my mother isn’t ready to let him go. Caring for him still gives her purpose. Without him, she will feel utterly alone. In deference to her, I don’t want him to die just yet.||How many of us resolve all remaining issues with the dying? How many of us are left with regrets?|
But part of my ambivalence also has to do with my unsettled relationship with him. How many of us resolve all remaining issues with the dying, especially those with whom we’ve clashed and whom we then demonized? How many of us are left with regrets? As a teenager and young adult, my step-father served as the example of all I didn’t want to emulate—the Anti-Mentor. Where he was jokey and false, I would sanctimoniously try to be straight and true. Where he was manipulative and self-serving, I would attempt to be above board and serve others. In my mind, he was my foil, my moral counterpoint. But using him in this way to help define myself also connected him to me psychically. It gave him a role of some importance in my development. Even as an older and supposedly wiser middle-aged adult, I never bothered to get to know him beyond the caricature of rival and villain.
Last week, my mother learned that the nursing home staff members have been unable to heal my step-father’s persistent bed sores. It’s a sign that dementia is sapping his recuperative powers and that his end isn’t far off. The nurse who called my mother suggested hospice services for him. My mother asked me what she should do. I recommended that she agree to hospice. She was sad but acquiesced.
I’m feeling conflicted. Part of me regards this matter-of-factly as the right thing to do. Part of me feels a little sad, too, about his likely death in the next few weeks or months. Who was this guy? I’m reluctantly coming to the realization that I wish I knew.
|Barry J. Jacobs, Psy.D. is a clinical psychologist and the Director of Behavioral Sciences for the Crozer-Keystone Family Medicine Residency Program in Springfield, PA. He is the author of "The Emotional Survival Guide for Caregivers—Looking Out for Yourself and Your Family While Helping an Aging Parent" (Guilford, 2006). Please see the book’s website—www.emotionalsurvivalguide.com.|
Posted By Stephanie Trudeau-Hern,
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
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I am going to use this blog post
to write about something that is very dear to my heart. The topic is how we
communicate about illness: the rhetoric, dialects, and metaphors that riddle
the conversations we have with and about a person who is diagnosed with a
chronic illness. I will share with you a story, an analogy, some history, and
finally a call to action. Some of my words are supported by research and literature,
and all are based off of real conversations I've had with patients and family
members impacted by a diagnosis of cancer.
the reason you have felt sick is because your body has been lacking in proper
defenses and your immune system has been taken over. Cancer cells have invaded your body and have
colonized into a tumor. Our plan of attack is to excise the mass and begin an
aggressive regimen of chemotherapy and radiation. It is very important that you
remain positive and keep fighting so you have a better chance at defeating this.”
From this moment on, I am a woman with cancer. I
am a cancer patient. My identity will be wrapped up in a culture of metaphors
that feel terrifying and abrasive. I am now at war with my body. It appears
that I only have two options: I can stay positive and fight for my life in the
hopes of becoming a survivor, or I can fall victim to my disease. I wonder if in
my eulogy they will say I fought a good fight…
Truth be told, I've never had cancer, but a
great deal of people close to me have. I have heard these words resonate in the
halls, the exam rooms, and in the infusion rooms of the oncology center where I
provide behavioral health services. I have met with enough people who have been
diagnosed with cancer, and their loved ones, to know that the war-laden
language of cancer has an impact, and from what I am hearing it may no longer
be a positive one.
|During my quest to explore the dialect of cancer I was
honored to have a conversation with family scholar Dr. Jay Mancini. I shared
with him a conceptual paper I’d been working on regarding this very topic. When
we met, he didn’t want to talk about cancer. He wanted to talk about tomato blight.
Tomato blight, he stated, was a common yet annoying problem for gardeners. Tomato blight is a
rapidly spreading plant disease characterized by a rotting of the leaves and
foliage. For decades frustrated gardeners accepted this
as a consequence of humid weather. Eventually it was discovered that watering
the tomato plant from the wrong direction causes tomato blight. When a gardener
waters from the top of the plant, the force of the water causes dirt to splash
back up onto the leaves, therefore spreading the organism that causes blight.
By changing how the water was delivered, watering at the base of the plant,
this annoying issue with tomato plants occurred less often.|
He asked me if I understood his point. I didn’t,
but he patiently allowed me to chew on it for a couple minutes. Then I got it;
it made perfect sense. Maybe what we have been doing all along, which was to do
what we knew how to do (watering from the top), was the very thing that was causing
harm to our patients (the plants). Maybe
the main thing we need to do instead is to change the delivery of the language
(water at the base). Maybe we have been
inadvertently and unknowingly harming our patients by the way we talk about
In 1978 Susan Sontag wrote Illness as Metaphor. She posed questions about the benefits of
war-laden language that had been attached to cancer. The metaphors of war had
been used to communicate about tuberculosis. Now that the etiology of TB is
understood, war metaphors have been transferred onto cancer and other
illnesses. She discussed how using these metaphors created norms throughout
society that may not have been beneficial to the individuals with the disease. By
attaching war language to a physical illness, it is implying one either fights,
or dies. One either survives or fails to thrive; that essentially only the
Prior to Sontag’s book, a political movement had
started in 1969 with an advertisement to the Washington Post presenting a plea
to President Nixon to reduce the secrecy of cancer and to put forth exposure on
the veracity of the disease. In 1970 the "Moon Shot” campaign was launched. A
large amount of government money was put into creating cancer research dream
teams. It was like NASA for the cancer research community. The political call
for answers and release of money to find a cure had solidified the rhetoric for
the "war on cancer”. The 1970’s became the generation that no longer secretly
whispered about cancer.
Sontag’s hope for the future was a movement
beyond the limited language that had been created for cancer to include a
broadened scope of actual patient experience. This was in 1978; 35 years later
we are still using the same winner/loser language.
While conducting a qualitative interview, I
asked a widowed husband about his experience with his wife’s cancer. He
recalled, "People say the dumbest things. When they would say, ‘keep fighting’
or ‘she’s a fighter’, I wanted to scream, ‘What do you think she is doing?!’ … To
me it was as though they were implying that she was not fighting hard enough,
that if she fought a little harder she should be able to beat this. I wanted
them all to know that if cancer was something one could beat by sheer will and
toughness, she would have been the one to do it. She did not fail to fight hard
enough. Cancer was just better; cancer won.” He then said, "Still to this day
when I hear the words, ‘stay positive’, or ‘keep fighting’, it makes me want to
jump out of my skin.”
When an individual’s identity becomes rooted in
metaphor, the metaphors themselves become the basis of communication within
their social system. Metaphors are critical to our sense of meaning making. It
helps us assign something we are familiar with and gives language to what we
cannot explain. I have sat with many women who are breast cancer "survivors”. I
hear from them that the war metaphors have become emotionally grating. I’ve had
women tell me that they do not feel that they deserve all that comes with the
"survivorship badge.” One woman in her early 30’s stated that she would rather
be called a "thriver” or an "overcomer”. When it came to her illness and the
treatment she received, she felt she did what she had to do. Nothing she did
was superhuman; it was the luck of the draw that she no longer has cancer, when
others around her died from cancer. She didn’t want to be seen as something
special, being labeled a survivor was too much for her. She didn’t feel that
she fit in the same category as all the other women who take ownerships of
their survivorship badge.
We have yet to develop a broader and more helpful way to
communicate about one of the most feared diseases of our time. As clinicians
and providers we are often the ones who begin the communication around a
diagnosis. We are the ones who introduce
the language, the metaphors, and the rhetoric to patients and their families. I
say let’s do better; let’s ask the ones with the diagnosis what language and
metaphors work for them. Let’s start watering from the bottom!
Diedrich, L. (2007). Treatments: language, politics, and the culture of illness. University of Minnesota Press: Minnesota.
Ehrenreich, B. (2009). Bright-sided: how positive thinking is undermining America. Picador: New York.
Mukherjee, S. (2010). The emperor of all maladies. Scribner: New York.
Sontag, S. (1988) Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors. Picador: New York.
|Stephanie Trudeau-Hern, MS, is a doctoral
student at the University of Minnesota in the Department of Family Social
Science - Couple and Family Therapy Program. Her clinical and research interests
include caregiver well-being, family coping with chronic illness, end-of-life
issues, and provider self-care within collaborative health care teams. She
credits her two little monkeys for being the most influential teachers of life,
love, play, and well-being.|
Posted By Grace Wilson,
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
| Comments (1)
"The good physician treats the disease.
The great physician treats the patient who has the disease.”
William Osler, 1849-1919
Rachel is scared. At 55 years
old, she’s faced a lot in her life, and has managed pretty well to this
point. She worked in a local factory
until she was laid off 5 years ago.
Although she’s been struggling financially since then, she figures that
leaving the physically demanding job has probably been better for her health,
and she and her husband Daniel manage to get by on his monthly disability
check. With the help of her physician,
Dr. Andrews, her Type II Diabetes has been mostly well controlled since her
diagnosis 15 years ago. Now, though, a
bigger medical problem looms on the horizon – she found a lump in her breast
last week. Rachel is very familiar with
the realities of what this could mean, because her mother died of breast cancer
when she was Rachel’s age. Daniel is a
big emotional support for her, but he doesn’t have much knowledge of medical
issues, and she is afraid to burden him with her fears because he is struggling
with his own health concerns. Now,
Rachel and Daniel are sitting in an exam room waiting for Dr. Andrews to come
in to discuss the results of Rachel’s mammogram and consider what her options
for further diagnosis and treatment will be.
Dr. Andrews has treated Daniel and Rachel for over 20 years. He is familiar with Rachel’s medical history,
her family situation, and her fondness for baking pies every Christmas to share
with the office. Now, he has the results
of her mammogram. Although she’s going
to need a biopsy to confirm the presence of cancer, the film is not looking
good. As he walks into the room, he
sees the mix of hope and fear on Rachel and Daniel’s faces, and he knows that
the relationship he has with them will be an important part of her quality of
life – both medically and personally – in the days to come.
|What can be done to foster a positive provider-patient relationship?|
The provider-patient relationship can be a rich source of support and
healing for patients who are facing stress related to health and illness. It is built on trust, knowledge, and,
increasingly, collaboration. In the IOM
2001 report "Crossing the Quality Chasm,” six aims for healthcare are presented
– among them, patient-centered care, which emphasizes the relationship between
patient and provider. The authors posit
that the best healthcare is based on a continuous, healing relationship that is
customized on patient needs and values, with safety, transparency, and the free
flow of ideas.
Research has shown that attention to the
provider-patient relationship is beneficial for both parties. Patients with chronic disease have improved
quality of life, functional, and emotional status when doctor-patient
communication is functioning well (Theofilou, 2011). Patients who have limited agency and are
unable to speak for themselves may be given a voice through a healthy
relationship with a provider who cares (Shannon, 2009). In turn, providers who spend time reflecting
on provider-patient relationships tend to have lower stress and increased
levels of empathy (Battegay et al.,
1991). Both Rachel and Dr. Andrews
benefit from his attention to their relationship.
What can be done to foster a positive provider-patient
relationship? One of the keys is
maintaining a patient-centered outlook with good communication (Fong Ha &
Longnecker, 2010). Collaborative
communication, which integrates the patient’s perspectives and input, and
conflict resolution are particularly important.
Patients report that the extent to which they feel their provider is
listening to them is also a key determinant of relationship quality (Jagosh,
Boudreau, Steinert, MacDonald, & Ingram, 2011). In other words, if Rachel feels that Dr.
Andrews is really listening to her, and actively communicating with her to
increase her sense of agency surrounding her care, she will feel cared for and
experience the benefits of a strong doctor-patient relationship.
|How can you determine how the provider-patient relationship is
going? First, do a self-check. To what extent do you feel like you
understand your patients as "a whole person” rather than a diagnosis or a
disease? How often are you using active
listening skills, such as reflective statements and clarifying questions? What does your gut tell you about the
relationships you maintain with your patients?
All of these questions are important – remember that relationships are
always a reciprocal two-way street. The
way you feel about your relationship with your patients can tell you a lot
about the state they are in. More formal
assessments are also available. In 2012,
a systematic review of 19 instruments assessing the doctor-patient relationship
was published (Eveleigh et al., 2012). Appendix 2 in the
article provides a concise table summarizing the characteristics of the
different measures. While many of these
measures are primarily utilized for research purposes, providers may find
clinical utility in a more formalized assessment of the provider-patient
relationship.||How can you determine how the provider-patient
relationship is going? |
Most – if not all – providers would agree that
maintaining effective communication with their patients is important, but even
when the desire is there, barriers still exist to making this relationship a
primary focus of treatment. First, the
pressure to see more patients in a shorter amount of time, coupled with
patients’ increasingly complex presentations, can leave providers wondering how
they could possibly fit more into their already packed encounters. Second, opening oneself up to patients’
physical, emotional, and spiritual pain requires vulnerability on the part of
the provider and risk of personal hurt or burnout.
A few suggestions can help with these concerns:
• Simple strategies like making eye contact with
patients and repeating patients’ words back to them can help with feelings of connection without increased time on the providers’ part.
• At a policy level, alternative payment structures
should be explored to address the broader system issue of providers’ time.
• To help with the potential burden of vulnerability,
providers should engage in self-care and build strong professional and personal
support systems from whom they may draw strength.
• Providers who work in collaborative health care are
uniquely posed to strengthen patient care while simultaneously diffusing the
personal burden to be "all things to all people.” Share the care!!
Battegay, M., Weber, R., Willi, J., Eich, D.,
Siegenthaler, W., & Luthy, R. (1991). Exploring the doctor-patient
relationship reduces staff stress and enhances empathy when caring for AIDS
patients. Psychotherapy &
Psychosomatics, 56(3), 167-173. doi: 10.1159/000288551
Eveleigh, R.M., Muskens, E., van Ravesteijn,
H., van Dijk, I., van Rijswijk, E., & Lucassen, P. (2012). An overview of
19 instruments assessing the doctor-patient relationship: Different models or
concepts are used. Journal of Clinical
Epidemiology, 65, 10-15. doi:10.1016/j.jclinepi.2011.05.011
Fong Ha, J., & Longnecker, N. (2010) Doctor-patient communication: A
review. The Ochsner Journal, 10, 38-43.
Jagosh, J., Boudreau, J.D., Steinert, Y.,
MacDonald, M.E., & Ingram, L. (2011).
The importance of physican listening from the patients’ perspective:
Enhancing diagnosis, healing, and the doctor-patient relationship. Patient Education and Counseling, 85,
(2011). Improved quality of life, functional and emotional status: The doctor
patient relationship. Primary Health
Care: Open Access, 1(1). Accessed
|Grace Wilson is a PhD candidate at East Carolina University in Greenville, NC. She currently works as a behavioral health provider at a rural FQHC, and she will begin her doctoral internship in Oklahoma in August. Her research is on couples, the childbearing experience, and the doctor-patient relationship.|
provider patient relationship
Posted By Roberta Winters and Sylvia McCreary,
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Updated: Wednesday, May 15, 2013
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"How incessant and great are the ills with which a
prolonged old age is replete.”
- C. S. Lewis
process of aging intrigues me, and has so for much of my time here. Our human bodies begin tiny and frail, grow
strong, create grand things, and then slowly decrease in energy, size, and
(sometimes) ability. Not so different
from the trees outside my window, trees that stand tall, that sway and dance,
and eventually fall. But as I stare out
my window at all those trees, some of them stand out to me. These ones are different in some way. They are not tall and strong; some of them
don’t sway and dance. No, these are different. They have some special pattern about them,
some uniqueness that both stunts their growth and produces a special
character. Limbs are twisted, contorted
into interesting shapes and designs.
These ones cause us to pause.
Disease (PD) is one of many neurodegenerative diseases, and among the most
common. It is progressive and results
from degeneration of neurons in an area of the brain that controls
movement. Any chronic illness will be a
test to the will and determination of the patient, as well as a test to family
and friend relationships. But when PD
patients develop within family and friend relationships that are nourishing,
this can provide the patient with resources that help with their ability to
cope and manage with the progressive symptoms.
have had the distinct pleasure to meet one exceptional lady, Sylvia, who is one
of those trees with a "special pattern.” She has taught me that chronic illness is a
relational illness, and that the persistence and stability of those
relationships surrounding one with PD will help to shape the patterns of
healthy coping that emerge. "You have to
have an advocate. You have to have good
instincts as to who to trust and who not to trust [regarding medical care].” Sylvia discussed with me how difficult it has
been for her and her family to find support.
And the costs that come with any chronic illness are staggering. Costs for prescription medications required
for PD patients are high, and often these medications are not paid for by
insurance companies (including Medicare).
Insurance companies would rather pay for generic brands that sometimes are
not as effective.
worst is not knowing what to expect, and knowing it gets worse,” says
Sylvia. "And being alone.” Loneliness is a theme that repeatedly comes
up with PD patients. You have to include
family members in the illness process, Sylvia noted. She told me that one of the most helpful
things she did was to hold a family meeting, and let her children know what she
was facing, and how is was affecting her.
Sylvia said that her children now call her regularly, knowing that this
little gesture will help their mother manage with difficult days, and times of
"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It
has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to
- C. S. Lewis
"Friends don’t know
what to do, so they do nothing. It’s a
loss.” One of the most difficult things
for PD patients to adjust to is the retreating of friends. "I understand it,” Sylvia says. "I certainly understand it.” But this doesn’t ease the loss, or the pain
of isolation. Care takers of patients
with PD can suffer isolation as well. I
have heard care takers say that they just can’t leave their dear one alone,
just for a moment even; for fear that their loved one will need them. Some of the care takers I have met have told
me that they didn’t get out much… and that friends eventually stop coming
by. I glance around Sylvia’s
kitchen. Her refrigerator is covered
with family photos; her children, their children, someone else’s children. There are a lot of family photos. I supposed it reminds her that they are all
still there, even when they must go to work and school and busy themselves with
after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I asked Sylvia, "How
long did it take you to accept your illness?”
Sylvia thought, "Ten years.” The
acceptance started when she began to write.
She kept an online journal, and there she would write how she really
felt about the illness. She knew that
she could get it all out safely, where no one else would see. "Art is important,” Sylvia says to me. She says it helps her to relax. I look again around her kitchen, walls
covered with art. And little water
colors, here and there. A table sits in the
corner, housing brushes that had been dipped in water colors; tools for
coping. She usually has her entire
dining table covered in art work, she tells me.
But today, (maybe because I was visiting?) her tools sit in the corner,
laid out on a table.
I’m thinking again
about the tress outside my window. Yes,
most of them are tall and strong, waving and dancing. But today they no longer interest me. How difficult can it be, to wave and dance,
when you are tall and strong. But to
wave and dance when you’re not tall and strong, but seated in a wheelchair, and
surrounded by photos of family and pieces of water colors, these things make "special patterns.” Those twists and
turns that are embedded into the core, they draw our attention.
Parkinson’s Disease is
a relational disease. It shows up,
unexpectedly, in one person’s body, and somehow manages to spread into the
whole family system. It sometimes causes
friends to disappear. But as Sylvia
reminds us, "They don’t know what to do, so they do nothing.” And it is the loneliness that is left. What are the pieces of a progressive chronic
disease, and how do these pieces fit together?
It will benefit us as providers to see these larger system connections,
and to know, while one may carry the disease, the effects ripple outward
through the system. We must always think
of such illnesses as relational, and remember that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
I wish I could have Parkinson’s Disease, and you can run and play.”
-Sylvia’s 4 yr old grandson
|Roberta is a recent graduate of the Marriage & Family Therapy Master's program at East Carolina University (ECU), and presently enrolled in the Medical Family Therapy doctoral program, also at ECU. Her research interests include gerontology (biopsychosocial & spiritual issues in aging), and health disparities in the Latino communities.|
|After being diagnosed with Parkinson's disease 18 years ago, Sylvia McCreary co-founded the Eastern North Carolina Parkinson's support group. As the disease progressed she lost her ability to play the organ and piano, but discovered the joys of painting with watercolors. She has since produced an annual calendar featuring primarily her artwork. A portion of the proceeds goes toward the support of patients with PD. |
Posted By Joshua Fowler,
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
| Comments (0)
Curing cancer, from a biomedical standpoint, is now possible, argues TIME Magazine writer Bill Saporito (2013), and is born from our philosophical beliefs about health care and from the practice of team-based, collaborative care. A bold claim, to be sure, but the truth of his claim depends on the meaning of the word "cure”. There are actually multiple meanings for the word "cure”. Saporito posits this: a cure for cancer is available, but is not simple to produce, nor easy to obtain. Still, it is possible, he says, and what makes it so is the harnessing of a collaborative approach by medical professionals from multiple disciplines.
In Saporito’s article, he writes that cancer "dream teams” can now effectively target and treat cancer, resulting in better and faster results that with more traditional biomedical care may not occur. What lays at the heart of these dream teams is collaborative care. Teams consist of professionals from various disciplines, all working together to help patients in a focused and targeted way. Each member has a purpose and a place and no corners are cut if it means even a chance at a slightly less favorable outcome for the patient. Saporito points out in his article the need to "upend tradition” in order to improve health care overall, not just for cancer. Today, people are living longer and chronic diseases (e.g., asthma, diabetes) are more common than infectious diseases (e.g., influenza, pneumonia). Traditional care that was focused on curing and removing disease may not be adequate for the long, drawn-out battles of chronic disease management. The need to change the way we treat diseases is growing, and it is time, as Saporito states, to part ways with traditional care that is only biomedical.
|Perhaps there is something to glean from these cancer "dream teams”. Behavioral health care professionals, who offer biopsychosocial-spiritual care, are uniquely positioned to work alongside other health professionals in support of treatment. Teams of support professionals that work as well as the direct patient care teams that Saporito writes about already exist. At Duke University Hospital, Dr. Cheyenne Corbett, Director of The Duke Cancer Patient Support Program (DSPSP), leads a team of professionals from various disciplines. Though Dr. Corbett’s team is built to provide support rather than direct treatment for cancer, she and her staff take the same approach to health that the dream teams Saporito writes about use.||The need to change the way we treat diseases is growing|
Recently, I had the opportunity to co-present with Dr. Corbett at a doctoral class of mine on childhood and adolescent cancers during which Dr. Corbett augmented my presentation with information on adult cancers, the main focus of the DCPSP. Further, she provided our class with an in-depth look at her team, how she operates, and why the DCPSP is accomplishing its mission "to create a humanistic environment for adults with cancer, as well as their family members, during the stress entailed in diagnosis, treatment, and after-care.”
Dr. Corbett, a trained marriage and family therapist, has a unique understanding of what it takes to support cancer patients to produce better outcomes for them. She and her team have the primary responsibility of acting as liaisons between patients and medical staff, providing hospitality to patients and families in exam rooms, and advocating for patients by helping them understand the resources available to them, including all of the services the DCPSP provides. If a patient wants family involved or a close friend to be nearby to provide support, the team works to make it happen. Professionals work as a team and check in with one another to ensure good care for patients. They look for gaps in patient care and work to close those gaps. The DCPSP is set up to take advantage of the collaborative view of problem-solving. Family is incorporated at every step along the way, and services such as family therapy are provided as part of care. Duke has a new cancer treatment center where the DCPSP is housed and even the building design was made to keep families together and to keep patients at the center of treatment.
Collaborative care, as Saporito writes, is becoming a vital part of healthcare not only between professionals but between patients and providers. As biopsychosocial providers, we should consider taking a look at how are we are encouraging family involvement and cross-disciplinary collaboration in our respective settings. If you are a patient or a family member, you may want to consider how you can advocate for cross-discipline collaboration in your treatment or the treatment of your loved one, and how you can stay involved in the overall treatment and support of your family member or friend who is a patient. These considerations allow us to examine if we are working in a way that is actually collaborative.
Saporito, B. (2013). The conspiracy to end cancer. April 1st, 2013, TIME Magazine. Retrieved from http://healthland.time.com/2013/04/01/the-conspiracy-to-end-cancer/
|Joshua Fowler is a recent graduate of the marriage and family therapy masters program at East Carolina University. |
Posted By Julie Schirmer,
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
| Comments (1)
This piece is a reprint of a post from the STFM blog, a regular blog produced by members of the Society of Teachers of Family Medicine (http://www.blog.stfm.org/). Reprinted with permission.
Although we should do this every day, periods of transition beckon us to examine what’s important to us as we ask ourselves, "Is this really what we want to do? Are we really living our values?” Medical students will soon move to residency programs and graduating residents will be off to their first jobs in medicine. At the recent STFM Annual Conference in early May relatively new faculty began one of the STFM fellowship programs to enhance their skills as leaders or as new behavioral science/family systems faculty.
At times like this, I am reminded of the "jar of rocks” story that I’ve come across in leadership courses and have used in teaching: A philosophy professor enters her classroom with a large, wide-mouthed glass jar and several bags of items. She asks for a student volunteer to fill the jar, who then places one to two inch rocks into the jar to the very top of the brim. The professor then asks the students if it is full. The students agree that it is full.
She asks another student to pour a bag of small pebbles up to the top of the jar. They flow between the open spaces between the rocks. She again asks the class if the jar is full. The students agree.
|She then pours sand between the spaces, always finding more spaces to fill up the jar. She then states, "This jar represents your life, the large rocks represent everything that is most important to you, such as work, play, family, and love. The smaller rocks are necessary but of lesser importance. Everything else is just sand. The important thing is to be conscious of what the ‘big rocks’ are in your life. Make sure you fit them into your jar before placing anything else in, or they won’t fit. Take time to nurture, support and develop the ‘big rock’ areas, then the ‘smaller rocks’ before putting anything else in your jar.” To this original story, I have added the professor recruiting students to help her. For with helpers around, the rocks don’t seem so heavy and the process has the potential for being more fun. |
I am in transition myself and wonder how I am going to fit new responsibilities into an already full life and schedule. Starting May first, I begin my journey as the new Director of the STFM Behavioral Science Family Systems Educator Fellowship (BFEF) Program, along with the 15 new educator fellows from family medicine residency programs all around the country. The fellowship is one of my "big rocks.” At this later stage in my career, it’s important to nurture and support the next generation of behavioral science faculty leaders in family medicine. It’s that "generativity” thing! I am helped by a large community of able colleagues, including STFM staff and seasoned behavioral science and family medicine educators who serve as mentors, fellowship faculty and steering committee members. This prevents me from feeling overwhelmed as to everything that I have to do for the fellowship on top of my other work and life responsibilities.
Medicine is a continually changing field, which can be exciting and overwhelming - often at the same time. Wherever you are in your life or career, take time to routinely visit and examine the ‘big rocks’ in your life and strive towards valued living. Listen to your body, mind and spirit. If you are feeling "off balance”, make sure the rocks are in their right places. Recruit colleagues and other members of your "team” to help lift the weight off your shoulders and to create a better world.
I welcome others' stories about recommendations for living the most vital and meaningful life and about maintaining balance in this fast-paced, internet-heavy world.
|Julie Schirmer, LCSW is Director of Behavioral Health at the Family Medicine Department of Maine Medical Center and Assistant Director of the Family Medicine Clerkship at Tufts/Maine Medical Center School of Medicine. She is Co-chair of the North East Regional Integrated Care Learning Community, Past President of the Family Medicine Education Consortium, and Director of the Behavioral Science/Family Systems Educator Fellowship of the Society of Teachers of Family Medicine. She is author and co-editor of Behavioral Health in Primary Care: A Global Perspective (Radcliffe, 2010).|
Posted By Aubry N. Koehler,
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
| Comments (0)
This past fall, the
European Heart Journal published an article on the increased risk of
depression, anxiety, and suicide for spouses of partners who had suffered heart
attack within the past year, when compared to spouses of partners with other hospitalizations
et al., 2012)
To family-oriented clinicians, this comes as little surprise.
The burden of medical crisis is carried not only by patients but also by
their families and communities, especially when need for caregiving requires
shifts in household and occupational roles.
Beyond the biological and logistical components, patients and families
must also cope with accompanying emotional, psychological, social, and
spiritual ramifications of crisis which can manifest as feelings of confusion,
hopelessness, fear, and isolation. And,
as Fosbøl and colleagues suggest, there may be something particularly
distressing about a loved one’s heart failing him or her.
While we have been
trained to look at the systemic impact of health and illness, the medical
contexts in which we work are just beginning to adopt this lens. The rise in the popularity of
patient-centered medical homes where patients can receive their medical and
behavioral health treatment from collaborating providers under one roof is a
move towards health care that considers the biopsychosocial needs of the
adoption of a systemic lens in health care is taking place within an
individualist paradigm. Electronic
health records are not set up for charting relational cases and insurance
companies require providers to bill under a single identified patient.
|Does this sound like
a revolution to you?
A paradigm shift?
I hope so.
But let us not
scapegoat the medical context. The individualist
paradigm pervades the majority of US institutions and is a paradigm that we and
the public generally endorse and enact in our day-to-day lives. As consumers, I believe we are not only
subject to institutional constructs, we also have a hand in how institutions
are constructed and adapted. We all have
some degree of agency—albeit, less or more depending on our socioeconomic power
and privilege—in changing health care through the policies we support, the
health care resources for which we advocate, and the ways in which we access
The fact that national
media reported Fosbøl and colleagues’ findings is perhaps an indication that
this is news to the public. Consumers may not consider the ways in which
medical crises in family members can impact their physical and emotional
wellbeing. Without structures in place
to offer relational treatment, consumers may not think to request family
support. Further, even if they do
recognize a need for behavioral health support, it is unlikely that family
members of ill loved ones will have the energy or time to advocate for
themselves in the midst of crisis.
So, what can we do as
practitioners to help patients and families access medical and behavioral
health support? We can start by
continuing to carry our own systemic lens into all of our encounters with
patients, families, providers, and medical staff. We can educate patients and families about
the relational impact of illness in a loved one and connect them with
resources, as needed. We can also be a
part of advocating for changes in medical and behavioral health care delivery
at the administrative level in the medical contexts where we work and on the
level of the state and federal policies that will best support these changes.
We still have a great deal of work
to do in substantiating our relational approach to health care. While the merits of this approach may seem
obvious to us and others within our field, we need to show everyone—from policy
makers and insurance company executives to the general public— how needed this
kind of approach is and the positive health care outcomes to which it can and
Does this sound like
a revolution to you? A paradigm shift? I hope so.
Imagine a world in which our medical contexts are set up to treat the
family as a whole. Where family members
are educated about the relational impact of illness in a loved one on their own
wellbeing and not only have resources available to them, but feel comfortable
reaching out and accessing those resources.
Better yet, imagine a world in which those resources are offered automatically
to families experiencing medical crisis, so they can then use their agency to
opt in or out of receiving them. Let us
as practitioners help to envision and evolve a system that reaches out to the
whole network of hearts that makes up our world.
Fosbøl, E. L., Peterson, E. D.,
Weeke, P., Wang, T. Y., Mathews, R., Kober, L., Thomas, L., Gislason, G.H., and
Torp-Pedersen, C. (2012). Spousal depression, anxiety, and suicide after
myocardial infarction. European Heart Journal, 34, 649-656.
|Aubry Koehler, MA, LMFTA, is a first-year
Medical Family Therapy doctoral student at East Carolina University in
Greenville, NC. She has interned as a
behavioral health specialist in integrated care settings over the past two years
and is especially interested in the impact of chronic illness on the family
system, culturally sensitive care, and closing health disparities. Aubry earned her Master’s of Arts in Marriage
and Family Therapy from Antioch University New England in 2012.|
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Posted By Jonathan Wilson,
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
| Comments (0)
When I began
my training as a marriage and family therapist, I never imagined I would work
in a healthcare setting. My misguided
preconceptions about the separation of mental and biomedical treatment clouded
my ability to truly provide therapy from a biopsychosocial lens. Since the first semester of my master’s
program, my research interests seemed to gravitate toward domestic violence and
its impact on couple and family relationships.
One of the recommendations included in the discussion section of my
master’s thesis, which examined the influence of attachment and aggression in
couples, was for MFTs to include attachment screenings during the intake
process to aid in identifying women experiencing intimate partner violence
(IPV). Even then, I believed in the
value of screening for IPV, but never consider the role of screening outside
the box of the traditional family therapy setting.
healthcare providers treat diverse groups of patients on a daily basis as part
of an integrated team. As patients continue
to present with various comorbid medical and psychosocial problems, which
mutually influence one another, the need for provider competence in responding
to psychosocial issues is sizeable.
Patients experiencing IPV represent a particularly vulnerable population
to which family-oriented clinicians and systemic therapists alike can provide help and resources. The process of identifying and responding to
IPV in integrated care is often difficult to maneuver, and for some providers,
when it comes to their patients’ experiences with IPV, sometimes it is easier not
to ask than to ask and not know what to do.
|IPV is a
serious public health problem (Garcia-Moreno, Jansen, Ellsberg, Heise, &
Watts, 2006) with substantial consequences for women’s physical, sexual, and
mental health (Campbell, 2002). One
source indicates that more than 25% of women experience IPV at some point in
their lives (Black et al., 2011). Despite
the prevalence of IPV and recommendations for universal screening from various
professional organizations and the Institute of Medicine (IOM 2011), most
providers choose not to screen their patients for IPV victimization (Jonassen
& Mazor, 2003). Some sources
indicate that only 1.5% to 12% of female patients were screened about possible
physical abuse from their partner (Caralis & Musialowski, 1997; Hamberger,
Saunders, & Hovey, 1992).||Choosing not to seek out and lend aid to women in abusive
relationships would be contradictory to our calling as healthcare
providers have tremendous potential to identify women experiencing IPV and to
lend aid. Their cautionary positions
toward IPV screening seem to be based upon concerns that screening for IPV may
(a) be overly invasive; (b) isolate patients; and potentially (c) increase
violence (Todahl & Walters, 2011). Although
most physicians receive training on IPV in medical school (Jonassen &
Mazor, 2003), barriers to IPV screenings remain, such as lack of provider education
regarding IPV (Waalen et al., 2000), and lack of self-assessed competence in
identifying IPV (Jonassen & Mazor, 2003).
Women experiencing IPV have identified
barriers as well – most of which pertain to the screener and screening
environment. Specifically, women tend to
prefer to be screened by a woman, someone of the same race, a provider aged 30
to 50 years, and without anyone present (Thackeray, Stelzner, Downs, &
Miller, 2007). It is probable that many
physicians are unaware of these patient boundaries. I contend that collaborative healthcare
providers have the potential to break down these barriers that providers and
patients have constructed.
care settings are ideal for identifying and providing assistance to women
experiencing IPV. Physicians, nurses,
mental health workers, medical assistants, and every other provider within the
system have the ability to "bridge the gap,” so to speak, between the
identification of women experiencing IPV and responding appropriately with
necessary resources. Women are typically
screened via a formal written assessment or a single question on their intake
paperwork. The American College of
Obstetrics and Gynecologists (ACOG, 2012, pg. 3) compiled a list of screening
protocols based upon the preferences of their patients regarding written
- Screen for
IPV in a private and safe setting with the woman alone and not with her
partner, friends, family, or caregiver.
professional language interpreters and not someone associated with the patient.
- At the
beginning of the assessment, offer a framing statement to show that screening
is done universally and not because IPV is suspected. Also, inform patients of the confidentiality
of the discussion and exactly what state law mandates that a physician might
screening for IPV into the routine medical history by integrating questions
into intake forms so that all patients are screened whether or not abuse is
and maintain relationships with community resources for women affected by IPV.
- Keep printed
take-home resource materials such as safety procedures, hotline numbers, and
referral information in privately accessible areas such as restrooms and
examination rooms. Posters and other
educational materials displayed in the office also can be helpful.
- Ensure that
staff receives training about IPV and that training is regularly offered.
group of researchers indicated that women preferred a patient-centered
screening approach more than a written screening approach (McCord-Duncan et
bottom of this blog entry, I’ve included a few helpful links to consider for
those willing to screen for IPV among their patients. The "HITS” domestic violence-screening tool
(Sherin, Sinacore, Li, & Zitter, 1998) is a simple 4-item screening tool
with demonstrated reliability and validity (see Sherin et al., 1998). For a thorough list of screening tools
available, I would encourage you to review the systematic review published by
Rabin, Jennings, Campbell, & Bair-Merritt (2009), which summarized IPV
screening tools tested in healthcare settings and discussed psychometric data
of each tool.
I’ve also included contact
information for the National Domestic Violence Hotline, which, on the date of
this blog entry, is open 24 hours a day.
Providers are encouraged to make themselves aware of the local resources
available in their regions – particularly shelters for battered women and any
local resources to provide further assistance. Representatives from the local
shelters or family violence centers are typically more than happy to come and
give a formal or informal talk about what resources are available in your
there is much still to be learned about IPV screening, we are knowledgeable
enough that choosing not to seek out and lend aid to women in abusive
relationships would be contradictory to our calling as healthcare
providers. Without our assistance as
physicians, nurses, systemic therapists, or any other healthcare provider, the
violence experienced by these women will continue. Family-oriented clinicians, especially those
in integrated care settings, can pave the way for higher identification rates
of IPV and, more importantly, increased aid for women experiencing IPV.
screening methods do you use in your practice? How is collaboration a part of
your protocol? Did you have an experience with IPV in your practice that was
transformative in the way you work with patients experiencing IPV? If so, what
happened and what did you learn through that experience?
Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE
(7233) or www.thehotline.org
ACOG. (2012). Intimate partner violence: Committee
opinion no. 518. Obstetrics & Gynecology, 119, 412–417.
M. C., Basil, K. C., Breilding, M. J., Smith, S. G., Walters, M. L., Merrick,
M. T., Chen, J., et al. (2011). National intimate partner and sexual
violence survey (NISVS): 2010 summary report. Atlanta, GA.
J. C. (2002). Health consequences of intimate partner violence. The Lancet,
359, 1331–1336. doi:10.1016/S0140-6736(02)08336-8
PV, Musialowski R. (1997). Women’s experiences with domestic violence and their
attitudes and expectations regarding medical care of abuse victims. Southern Medical Journal, 90, 1075-1080.
C., Jansen, H. A. F. M., Ellsberg, M., Heise, L., Watts, C. H., & Study, W.
H. O. M. (2006). Prevalence of intimate partner violence : Findings from the
WHO multi-country study on women’s health and domestic violence. Lancet,
368, 1260–1269. doi:10.1016/S0140-6736(06)69523-8
LK, Saunders DG, Hovey M. (2002). Prevalence of domestic violence in community practice
and rate of physician inquiry. Family
Medicine, 24, 283-287.
of Medicine. (2011) Clinical preventive services for women: closing the gaps.
Washington, DC: The National Academy of Sciences.
J. A., & Mazor, K. M. (2003). Identification of physician and patient
attributes that influence the likelihood of screening for intimate partner
violence. Academic Medicine, 78(10), S20–S23.
McCord-Duncan, E. C., Floyd, M., Kemp, E. C.,
Bailey, B., & Lang, F. (2006). Detecting potential intimate partner
violence: Which approach do women want? Family Medicine, 38(6),
416–22. Retrieved from http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16741840
Rabin, R. F., Jennings, J. M., Campbell, J. C.,
& Bair-Merritt, M. H. (2009). Intimate partner violence screening tools: a
systematic review. American Journal of Preventative Medicine, 36(5),
Sherin, K. M., Sinacore, J. M., Li, X., &
Zitter, R. E. (1998). " HITS ” A domestic violence screening tool for use in
the community. Family Medicine, 30, 508–512.
J., Stelzner, S., Downs, S., & Miller, C. (2007). Screening for intimate
partner violence. Journal of
Interpersonal Violence, 6, 569-670.
J., & Walters, E. (2011). Universal screening for intimate partner
violence.: A systematic review. Journal
of Marital and Family Therapy, 37, 355-369.
J., Goodwin, M. M., Spitz, A. M., Petersen, R., & Saltzman, L. E. (2000).
Barriers and Interventions. American Journal of Preventative Medicine, 19,
|Jonathan Wilson is a licensed marriage and
family therapy associate and provisional certified family life educator. He received his master’s degree in Marriage
and Family Therapy from Oklahoma State University and is currently enrolled in
the doctoral degree program in Medical Family Therapy at East Carolina
University. His interests include
intimate partner violence, psychopathology/psychopharmacology, and family
therapy training outcomes.|
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Posted By Elizabeth Patrick,
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
| Comments (0)
morning for the past two years, my friend and I have taken our dogs to the
neighborhood park. On those mornings, rain or shine, we share the park with a
Vietnamese couple in their sixties. We have come to expect to see one another
every day and have begun our own unspoken ritual of waving and exchanging a
pleasant "good morning.” The couple comes to the park to exercise and over the
years they have captured my heart and attention because of the apparent love
and care that they have for one another. I have had the privilege to witness
how much this couple values mutual health-positive behaviors.
describe some of the sweet moments I have witnessed from this couple. First,
the husband seems to struggle with a health-related challenge and is in a
wheelchair most of the time. He appears to count on his wife for assistance and
care. I have become familiar with their routine, as I’m sure they have become
with ours. They walk from their home which is about a quarter of a mile away.
Sometimes the wife pushes the husbands’ wheelchair, other times she is
stabilizing him on one side as he walks |
for a short time in a slow and
who face chronic
gender roles and
more mutual or
Once they arrive at the park, they approach a cement bench
that they use as a sort of "home base”. The wife begins to work with the
husband as he gets his physical activity going. He spends about 10-15 minutes
on his feet and while holding onto his
wife, he bends, squats, steps and stretches. His exercise comes first. Once he
has finished, he takes a seat on the bench or in his wheel chair, relaxes, and
begins to encourage and observe his wife as she starts her morning workout. She
has a number of workout courses that she has created at the park, keeping
things relatively new and fresh for herself. She may do some push-ups on an
incline, walk up and down a steep hill, or speed-walk up and down the front of
the park. As she works out, her husband is close by, watching, smiling,
enjoying his wife’s exercise process. Imagine also that this is a couple that
is soft and patient with one another. Never upset, always encouraging.
I recall what I observe every morning I find myself smiling at the couples’
love and care towards one another. However, I also know that when one spouse
becomes sick a lot changes in a relationship. Often the person who gives care
can experience lack of personal health as they put the ill spouse first. However,
the couple at the park has shown me that there can be joy and connection
through a shared experience of health, illness and care. This has been
particularly valuable for me as I am working on research related to a
relational orientation towards illness, in other words, shifting from a "my”
illness to an "our” illness orientation.
& Badr, 2005; Burwell, Templeton, Kennedy,
& Zak-Hunter, 2008; Dankoski & Pais, 2007; McDaniel
& Cole-Kelly, 2003) have highlighted that female spouses easily adapt
to a relational orientation of illness.
As a result, this process has the potential to further burden the female
partner when disparities in power between males and females in the relationship
are not attended to. When females, or
the well partner, take on a greater degree of relational responsibility than
their spouse, it is common for relational strain to increase. Therefore, it is important to recognize and
highlight that a process within the relationship must continually occur so that
each spouse takes a role in the mutual processing of ‘our’ illness experiences (Kayser,
Watson, & Andrade, 2007).
who coped with their chronic illness by confronting challenges and expressing
feelings and experiences openly had greater overall marital satisfaction, as
did their husbands (Badr, 2002; Acitelli & Bahr, 2005). This same "active” coping from the wife is
associated with greater marital satisfaction for ill husbands as well. From a gender lens, this suggests that the
couple is not mutually engaged in an "our” orientation towards illness. Instead,
the illness experience is being shaped by gendered power processes that place
the primary relational burden on the female partner.
couples who face chronic illness, traditional gender roles and processes are
challenged and often redefined, sometimes becoming more mutual or egalitarian (Dankoski
& Pais, 2007). Whether
couples progress to more egalitarian styles of coping or revert to more
traditional gendered patterns, flexibility is a key issue. In fact, Cross et al., (2001) found that
inflexible gender roles often lead to difficulty and distress for couples and
families and can potentially lead to separation or even divorce, especially
when the female partner is the one who becomes ill.
I only see the Vietnamese couple for about an hour each day and only observe
their exercise process, I feel as if I get to witness a
care-giving/care-receiving relationship that is oriented around the couples’ experience of health and
illness. I see flexibility in their gender roles, mutual support, and care. I find
that I look forward to seeing my park friends every morning. I am encouraged by
Acitelli, L. A.,
& Badr, H. J. (2005). My illness or our illness? Attending to the
relationship when one partner is ill. In T. A. Revenson, K. Kayser & G.
Bodenmann (Eds.), Couples coping with
stress: Emerging perspectives on dyadic coping. Washington, DC: American
Badr, H., Carmack, C. L., Kashy, D. A., Cristofanilli, M.,
& Revenson, T. A. (2010).
Dyadic coping in
metastatic breast cancer. Health
Psychology, 29(2), 169-180. doi: 10.1037/a0018165
Burwell, S. R.,
Templeton, B., Kennedy, K. S., & Zak-Hunter, L. (2008). Feminist-informed
medical family therapy principles and techniques across biopsychosocial systems
levels for younger women with breast
cancer and their partners. Journal of
Feminist Family Therapy, 20(2), 99-125.
Dankoski, M. E.,
& Pais, S. (2007). What's love got to do with it? Couples, illness, and
MFT. Journal of Couple & Relationship
Therapy, 6(1), 31-43.
Kayser, K., Watson, L. E., & Andrade, J. T. (2007). Cancer as a
"we-disease": Examining the process of coping from a relational
perspective. Families, Systems, &
Health, 25(4), 404-418. doi: 10.1037/1091-75188.8.131.524
McDaniel, S. H., & Cole-Kelly, K. (2003). Gender, couples, and
illness: A feminist analysis of medical family therapy. In L. B. Silverstein
& T. J. Goodrich (Eds.), Feminist
family therapy: Empowerment in social context (pp. 267-281). Washington,
DC: American Psychological Association.
|Beth Patrick is a third-year PhD MFT
student at Loma Linda University and has worked at the Loma Linda
Transplantation Institute for the past two years. She has also spent a
year working in Primary Care as a part of an
integrated healthcare team. Her professional interests include medical
family therapy, teaching and mentorship, and socially just/contextual
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