Faith: Part 1

I've talked in previous posts about how sometimes there are moments when I feel connected to the world in a bigger way than just myself. Those moments make me contemplate my existence. To consider whether there is more to life than just the desire of my genes to replicate themselves and survive. Is there something that connects us all in life? or even more so something that connects us when we're no longer here?

For those that don't know I'm a palliative medicine consultant working in a hospice and caring for people who are coming more towards the end of their lives. Over time and as your relationship develops with them our conversations often turn to their thoughts worries and fears about what's next. I've sat with people terrified of what's next and I've spent hours enjoying the serenity that some people have from being at one with their faith. For other people faith hasn't been about any particular religion but a sense of purpose that is wider than themselves. A feeling of having made the world better.

I remember sitting with one lady who had a cancer that had spread locally to the surrounding skin. It had created a wound that almost covered half her body and needed to be dressed four times a day to keep it from leaking. We used special dressing to try and reduce the smell and there was very little we could do to halt it's progress. She was remarkable. I cannot imagine what having such an open wound must have been like. The pain as air touched it. How it must have stung every time the dressing were peeled back but she never once complained and never once flinched. She was always reluctant to take pain relief and I could tell at times she was sore. So one day I asked her why she wouldn't let us increase her pain killers.

'I'm worried it would stop me talking to God'

'I'm sure he wouldn't mind I'm sure he knows how much you care about him' I said.

'I'm sure he does and I'm sure he wouldn't mind ' She said

'but I would, I'd miss him'

To her that sense of presence and wholeness her faith brought was more comforting to her than any pain relief could be to her.

That doesn't mean we didn't do everything we could to work within those parameters and I'm pleased to say that we did get her more comfortable and settled and she died peacefully a few weeks later.

Another time I looked after someone who had advanced cancer. He kept getting recurrent infections that needed antibiotics through a drip to treat. Every time he'd be a bit weaker, it was clear his cancer was progressing and that he was slowly coming towards the end of his life.

'How are you today?' I said

'I'm so tired' he replied

'I can imagine you've been through so much recently'

'I have, too much really but such is life'

I asked him what he meant by that.

'I've had enough of all of these drips, these blood tests, the cuff on my arm hurts. I'm tired I just want to sleep'

Sometimes people continue with treatment because they feel like they need permission to stop. Sometimes our most important job is empowering them to say enough and no more. So I wanted to give him that chance.

'I'm so sorry you're feeling like that, I can only imagine what it's been like for you. I think it's really important to make sure we're clear that you don't have to continue with these treatments, we can stop them, make sure if you get sick again we don't try and make it better with medicines through drips and whatever happens make sure you're comfortable'

He lifted his head from the pillow smiled weakly and said

'That sounds lovely but I can't. It is not God's will'

Exploring this further he was concerned that if he didn't have every possible treatment he could then he would be judged as found wanting and sent to Hell.

It made my heart bleed that he thought this so sincerely he was willing to go through things he no longer wanted to for the sake of pleasing his God. It was however important to him.

Ultimately we arranged for his faith leader to discuss this with him who assured him that this isn't what God would do and he told us he just wanted to be comfortable and didn't want any further treatment to make injections better. A few days later he got one, and we were able to make him comfortable as he died.

Faith is powerful

It makes us persevere when we want to stop. It brings us comfort, it brings us pain. It brings us both hope and fear depending on how it's used. It has the power to change how we behave and feel, for better, for worse or for neither.

Where on Earth am I going with all of this? Well for most of my life faith has been a central part of my being. Over the next few posts I want to talk about the relationship between sexuality, gender identity and faith - specifically Christian faith - and the impact that's had on me.

I'll warn you that at times it may be heavy going, and again this is my story not a judgement on anyone else's faith

I hope you'll join me as I explore both what faith has to say on the topic but then my journey and how it's been affected by that.

As always thank you for reading.