The Symphony Story

Over the past couple of days, you've read my description of the "plans" the Dad and I write up each day for his progress. The list contains items such as "eat more food today" and "walk as far as the hospital room door and back". Others are more like rules, such as "when Dad wants to get out of bed, he will call the nurse first." These lists help Dad in many ways. They give him something to focus on and a way to measure progress. It particularly helps and pleases him if all of the medical staff who enter the room read and sign off on the list -- kind of a team-building effort that makes Dad feel like there's a team, and that he's in charge of it. Almost everyone gets the spirit and purpose of the list, and they are more than happy to express agreement and enthusiasm. If they are not sufficiently enthusiastic, Dad will request "more enthusiasm, please!" Some of the items on the list are for Dad, others are for the nurses or the doctors.

One doctor entered the room and Dad called his attention to the list. Dad said that he feels this experience is like a symphony, and he's conducting the orchestra. He pursued the metaphor for a while, but the doctor clearly didn't understand. What symphony is Dad playing (thinking that Dad was confused, and thought that he really was playing a symphony, not understanding that Dad was using a metaphor)? Dad's question: who's really suffering from confusion here? Him or the doctor? Dad thought that was pretty funny.