Dancing

The Cambridge Dictionary describes Dance succinctly: to move the body and feet to music. I have a few friends that enjoy dancing as a hobby, others as a cultural practice and definitely a form of entertainment for the dancers as well as the audience. 

What do I know about dancing? Not much - just that I can't do it for the life of me and the modern view of dancing by the majority of the adolescence may just be some form of sexual practice in public that may or may not be appropriate. Yes, that is me being judgemental because every time I watch a music video, it involves gorgeous women in lingerie thrusting their hips this way or that and I can't make any sense of it. 

My mum used to talk to me about Turkish dancing and its wide varieties, which I found interesting but not enough to make me want to learn it. I was a lazy kid. The girlfriend occasionally brings it up with me when we go out, that we can't dance very well and that we should learn. Maybe we should, but I can't make time for it... or maybe I won't. 

I'm in with one of my GP Supervisors, Dr. MT, and he asks me to take a history of a man who presents with left calf pain. He has a history of a femoral bypass on the same side, complained of pain on exertion relieved by rest, but it was unilateral. I was asked for my provisional diagnosis and I said unilateral intermittent claudication. I was right, but then I was asked then to differentiate between claudication and osteoarthritis on history, which I did successfully. After examination, we concluded that the patient, Paul, really needed to see his Vascular Surgeon again for assessment of the graft and the remaining peripheral  vasculature. Paul agreed, but was reluctant to have another operation and I didn't blame him, his medial femoro-tibial scar was very impressive and I'm sure nobody would want such a reminder of their arterial insufficiency. 

After Paul left, Dr. MT asked me about dancing... My response was quite reactive: huh? 

He then described a scenario, where two people met for the first time on a dance-floor and were now expected to dance to an unexpected tune. Neither knew each other's dancing experience, style or preference, but would subconsciously expect their posture to direct the other where to go and what to do. With the occasional smile and nod, as well as exchanging a laugh, an unknown couple would work out a way, through multiple communication methods, to synchronously move to the rate and rhythm of the tune in a unified sense to achieve harmony. At that moment, you don't know who the person is, what their beliefs are and why they are dancing with you on the dance floor. But eventually you realise, it doesn't matter... it's all a part of the journey.

At that point, I was in awe of dancers - how they could improvise and acquire so much subconscious information, process it and express it so thoroughly. It was profound and suddenly, I was thinking of how wonderful that feeling must be. 

As much as I enjoy drifting off into my imagination - I didn't grasp the significance of Dr. MT's suggestion of dancing. He waited patiently for it to click... and then it was clear to me. The symmetry was clear. 

Clinicians and patients dance together. Each party encounters the other in a foreign environment (be it the road for the ambulance, the emergency department for the patient, etc) and the ultimate idea is to establish trust, rapport to reach the same common goals of medicine - to reduce harm, improve health and through evidence, prescribe some form of treatment. 

What a beautiful symmetry!

Dr. MT was smiling. It was clear to both of us we were feeling the same sense of peace right at that moment. Of course, we spoke about the General Practitioners of today in the context of dancing. Dr. MT compared it to "Speed Dating" - in and out, getting what you want, rather than what you need. 

It reminded me somewhat of Dance Dance Revolution - a game that supposedly lets you dance for points. But it's simply compliance - it shows you where to step at what time and you have to react appropriately. So posture, communication and  harmony is lost. It becomes cold, dry and didactic - where someone (or some guideline) iterates what needs to be done. 

Don't get me wrong, I didn't say that Dance Dance Revolution was easy. Perhaps it is easier than dancing properly, but it still requires some registration and practical knowledge. 

I must also remember that it is easy for me to judge 

other clinicians, but it is important to give them the benefit of the doubt. 

All in all, this beautiful symbolism made me think of a type of Turkish/Islamic dance called Sufi Spinning, where Semazens, or known in English as Dancing Dervishes, spin in a very specific posture and meditate. 

I don't know their history, except that they have survived through centuries. Their dancing is both beautiful and profound. 

They can spin for hours and hours - it is beautiful to watch, though I have never seen them live. My father once told me about their principle, which sparked my curiosity:

Their posture (from the image on the left) shows receipt from God (hand pointing up), be it knowledge, wisdom, health or prosperity; and through them, these gifts are distributed to the people (hand pointing down) without discrimination, or any hesitation. 

And I thought: this is how we must practice Medicine. We require some acknowledgement of a higher order - God, Miracles, Science, People. We receive our knowledge, experience and wisdom through these higher orders and with these attributes, we are responsible for their distribution to the public, for the public. 

In the meantime, whilst looking after patients and continuously  learning, we must meditate ourselves to maintain our sanity. And above all else: our love and compassion for those around us must never wane.