How are you?

 

Towards the end of 2008 Fr Michael was diagnosed with motor neurone disease. Even for someone who has spent the best part of his life reflecting on the human condition, Fr Michael still struggles to make sense of his illness. In a series of articles he reflects theologically on what it means to be ill.

 

As part of my studies at Theological College I spent some time with a hospital chaplain. He was a wise old man who had much to pass on from his own experience.

 

One lesson, which has stood me in good stead through the years, is never to greet a person with, "How are you?" The problem is: they might feel obliged tell you. It is much better to ask them, "How are you feeling?" This gives control back to the patient. They can, if they wish, still tell you the gory details; or they can spare your feelings with a bland, "Not so bad, thank you."

 

People often ask me how I am. I could answer with full honesty: "I'm suffering from motor neurone disease, which is a debilitating and terminal illness in which the nerves gradually close down. The truth is, I've lived longer than most people do with this condition, but as time goes on I am becoming more and more physically disabled . . ."

 

There are, of course, times when it is appropriate to give an honest and full answer. But sick people who are determined to take every opportunity to list the full horror of their symptoms rapidly become boors. And I do not want people to look upon me as a problem, an embarrassment, a killjoy or a boor. That is not how I feel about myself.

 

I do not want my life to be dominated by how I am. Much more important is how I feel. And that has much more to do with how I face up to my problems than with the problems themselves. If people ask me how I am, I would much rather tell them about the positive things in my life: the things I can still enjoy, how I maintain a sense of humour, the ways in which I can still be of use to people, my continuing journey of faith, and the many ways in which I still feel blessed by God. These are positive things; they build us up. To dwell on the negative aspects of life does no one any good.

 

I do not want to talk about how I am. I want to talk about how I feel.

 

I cannot resist ending with one of my favourite quotations. Unfortunately, I cannot remember who said it (perhaps someone will be able to tell me). It shows the value of a sense of humour even in the face of serious illness.

 

The lady was on her deathbed. She was not expected to live more than a few days. A friend called to see her, oozing sympathy and compassion. "How are you, dear?" she asked.

 

From her bed the lady replied: "I'm dying. But apart from that, quite well thank you."