A Hero’s Journey

In our twelfth issue, themed Diagnosis, our artists once again come to the rescue of the human spirit when facing illness. Similar to the hero’s journey described by Joseph Campbell in “The Hero With A Thousand Faces,” stories with this structure begin with an ordinary character called to adventure. She or he must face and overcome several challenges along the journey in order to win the prize or get the boy. The hero’s limits are tested and she learns many things about herself and others before returning home, changed for good. The journey of diagnosis often begins as a solo quest, and a band of merry or not so merry healthcare partners may be enlisted to participate in the journey along the way. Some prove to be helpful mentors and sages, others appear as tricksters, shapeshifters, or self-serving opportunists. Some are too burned out to engage in the profession they once loved. In the end, it seems, diagnosis is just one milestone in a hero’s journey.

The heroes in this issue show and tell that despite any diagnosis we are, if anything, resilient.

In Poetry, Dagne Forrest models acceptance in the face of uncertainty and feeling unmoored in her own body. Mary Birnbaum shows fortitude in the face of a callous physician’s dismissal—the missed opportunity to connect with another human being the least of his mistakes. And Aria Dominguez provides a loving example of what it means to live “in sickness and in health.”

In Fiction, Myra Seles reminds us in Finally Dead that leaving might always be easier than being the one left behind, and that how we embrace and support others after the diagnosis says so much about who we are, who we could be, who we wish we were. And in Birthday Boy, William Cass demonstrates the best of us in the care his narrator provides for an adult child with an unnamed developmental disability.

In Creative Nonfiction, Steph Amir shows the chaos and collapse of a life before diagnosis juxtaposed with the whole person relief and release once a suitable treatment is matched to the unnamed driving force that was, and often is, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Diane D. Gillette writes about the strength it takes to listen to one’s mind and body when the treatment prescribed by those wearing the white coat doesn’t feel right. And ER physician Tyler Jorgensen recounts what it feels like to carry critical decisions for others when there is little time to debate or share in the decision.

Several of these writers—whether healthcare professional, patient, or family member—make clear that the impact of words spoken by those who have accepted the responsibility to care for others as a profession carry great weight. Words, and the way in which health-related information is exchanged in the intimacy of exam rooms or physician offices, can heal, injure, or leave patients with even more questions. The power gradient in these environments may be intimidating for those who don’t work in healthcare. It’s up to the nurse or physician to create the space for partnerships in care to form. No matter the diagnosis–kindness, empathy, and connection  will help the healing begin.

Going into a new year, I am inspired yet again by the resolve and perseverance all our contributors exhibit by choosing to sit down and process through art whatever illness, ailment, life-changing diagnosis or health-related journey of discovery they are facing. With each passing year I become more convinced the only thing that truly limits a life is fear—that anything can be overcome if we are willing to face and accept what life throws at us.

The collective canon that is Please See Me is, and always will be, one of inclusivity. No matter how you identify, where you come from, who you love or worship, or what point you may be in your own hero’s health-related journey—your stories will always be welcome at Please See Me.

Cheers to a hope-filled, healthy, and happy new year.

Tracy Granzyk is the editor in chief of Please See Me.