A few weeks ago, I wrote about Paula, the amazing six-year-old with a lethal leukemia.
It was many years ago that I witnessed her last days just before Christmas, yet I have never forgotten her. Especially this time of the year, the events preceding her final breath are still as clear in my mind as if it all happened yesterday.
As a family doctor, I have been involved in both the start of our journey through life until the very end for thousands of people. After 50 years of looking after people who consulted me about their illnesses, injuries and worries, most of the details of the encounters have faded away in my memory with the exception of a relative few.
Paula was one of those who greatly influenced my future development as a physician, and human being. Her unshakable faith in both Santa and baby Jesus helped her immensely during her last few weeks. Of course, the hospital arranged for Santa to come and visit her, as she had requested.
Paula’s happy anticipation contrasted sharply with Santa’s nervousness and worry how he was going to meet her expectations and answer her questions.
Instead of relying on the usual superficial jolly “Ho, Ho” approach, he took the trouble to talk with the parents and the doctor beforehand.
Still, Santa was obviously taken aback when in answer to Santa’s question of what she wanted for Xmas, she said with a barely audible voice: “I have only two wishes: can you make my mother stop crying, and the doctors and nurses to stop poking me?”
Santa answered with a tremor in his voice that he would do his very best.
She responded with a shadow of a smile: “Thank you, Santa.”
The first lesson I learned from her request is to stop and ask if the routine of ordering all kinds of tests would enhance or diminish the quality of life, not only for Paula, but all my future patients.
In response to Paula’s request, the team looking after Paula had a conference with her parents, and we decided that there was nothing to be gained with more interventions, and with that conclusion, we could fulfill Paula’s wish.
The mother had much more difficulty fulfilling the other wish, but she pulled herself together most of the time when visiting her daughter.
Paula lingered until just after Christmas, fully confident she was going to meet baby Jesus.
Her family was staunchly Catholic and the visiting priest gave Paula communion, and the last rites when the time came.
There are several other lessons I learned from the events surrounding Paula’s last days. The second one was how a blind faith in Santa’s existence was of great comfort to Paula,
Did she benefit from this the last days of her all too short life?
She certainly did, and it was touching to see her adulation and thankfulness when Santa paid her a visit.
I certainly grew up with listening to many fantastic stories, reading scary books, and a firm belief in the existence of St. Nicholas (Sinterklaas, in Dutch).
My family and friends have assured me this kind of upbringing has not resulted in me becoming some sort of a misfit, nor does it for most other people.
For me, the tradition of receiving and giving gifts was transformed into a lifelong principle of generosity towards our fellow men, especially those who have so little.
To be continued
Dr. Marco Terwiel is a retired family physician who lives in Maple Ridge.
