Tuesday, January 8, 2019
Grieving with Mr. Pickles: Thoughts on Showtime’s ‘Kidding’
“I don’t think I could stand to be around that much death. All that sadness!” When I announced my career change and plan for a Hospice and Palliative Medicine (HPM) fellowship the reaction of most, in healthcare or not, was concern for my emotional wellbeing. Internally my initial response was: 1. Why do people think that death is reserved for HPM alone? and 2. Death and grief are all around, they are a part of life.
Perhaps it is my current vocation, but it seems that modern media agrees. Death and grief are showing up in unexpected formats. Most recently the new ‘dramedy’ on Showtime, ‘Kidding,’ starring a shockingly sedate Jim Carrey. In the pilot episode, we see our central character Mr. Pickles, a pseudo- Mr. Rogers, waiting to be interviewed on Conan Obrien’s talk show. We learn quickly that this famous man recently lost his son. The episode draws us into his life and the way his son’s death has ricocheted through his family. We see him turn to his work to cope with his grief. Mr. Pickles is planning a show where he will openly address his son’s death. Quickly the old anthems come, “People don’t want to hear about death.”
I imagine myself and my HPM colleagues nearly jumping from our chairs, arms waving, “But people do want to talk about death, they do!” We have learned this the hard way, stepping into complex family meetings and hearing that no one has talked about death or the dying process. Now at the very last inescapable moment, there it is, death on the doorstep. 10 years ago Holly Prigerson's research group published a study showing that earlier discussions around end-of-life care lead to lower rates of caregiver depression. When patients and families are surveyed about preferences regarding the outcomes they are seeking for the end of life they list ‘knowing a doctor is comfortable talking about the end of life,’ and ‘clear decision making, preparation for death.’ A decade later the average length of stay in hospice remains a minuscule 2 weeks. Fourteen days is a tiny window to get to know a patient, their family, their goals, and manage their most difficult symptoms. With that small time to prepare, families are confronted with death more suddenly than they expect.
This was the most commonly repeated experience in a recent spousal-loss support group that I attended. So many of the remarkable people who filled that room echoed each other’s frustrations that the medical community had not told or prepared them for death. At the end of life their own doctor seemed to indicate this outcome had been inevitable. The doctor knew Ms. Jones or Mr. Smith was dying, but the patient and family did not. The spouses mentioned the legal and practical concerns of managing shared assets, but they also mentioned the missed chance for one last vacation, or one last day at home together. Doctors can talk about death, or we can avoid the topic Death comes anyway, and it leaves grief behind as its last gift.
I have a slightly unique perspective, losing my father unexpectedly when I was 20 years old. The other day in lecture the organ and tissue donation organization shared about their work in our community. They showed a picture of the medal they give donor families. That same medal sits next to our brown leather family Bible because my father was also a tissue donor. I felt lost, for just a few breaths and it becomes clear that my work of grief may never be done. Even though we are healers, we as medical providers have all experienced loss. How does our past loss affect our future work? How do we carry our personal and professional losses with us and allow them to be transformed into healing? The opportunity exists for us to help our patients and family begin their journey with grief together, to start that difficult journey through grief hand in hand.
Mr. Pickles compares grief to losing an object that you can never find again. He sings about feelings, letting us know that there are no right or wrong emotions. He argues with producers who do not think children can handle talking about death as if children do not grieve. Perhaps parents, much like providers, can feel out of control, torn free of their moorings when the discussion turns to death. Just like a parent, we must help with the transition from death to grief. There are no shortcuts in grief. We are all grieving something, loss of freedom, or youth, or expectation, and often, missing the people we have lost. We in healthcare cannot use our work as a tool to avoid grief, but like Mr. Pickles, use our losses as a way to do better and give back to those around us. Spending a moment in the shoes of those actively grieving is humbling. It is in service to the goals of patients and their loved ones that we must talk about death.
As physicians, we fear causing harm by sharing ‘bad news.’ The idea that we could prevent grief, to keep it at bay by refusing to allow its presence in the same room as our precious patient, may be a dangerous one. If we listen to our patients, listen to the wisdom even in a TV show, we hear the truth: our patients want to know, and their families need to know that death is imminent. It is not always the patient’s death or family’s grief that we dread. We must recognize our own fear of grief, our sense of failure, our frustrations at being left with uncertainty. We as the medical community must conquer the fear of our perceived enemy: death. As my father often said, “We all leave this world sick enough to die.” It is a simple truth that we are all mortal. It is a complex challenge to acknowledge this in the practice of modern medicine.
I look forward to taking the journey with Mr. Pickles and his family. I will try to make death an old friend, and grief a teacher.
Christine Bridges, MD is a hospice and palliative medicine fellow at the University of Louisville Health Science Center. She enjoys baking and watching zombie movies with her husband.
Wright AA et al. Associations between end-of-life discussions, patient mental health, medical care near death, and caregiver bereavement adjustment. JAMA. 2008 Oct 8; 300(14): 1665–1673.
Steinhauser KE, Christakis NA. Preparing for the End of Life: Preferences of Patients, Families, Physicians, and Other Care Providers. Journal of Pain and Symptom Management. Volume 22, Issue 3, September 2001, Pages 727-737.
Steinhauser KE, Clipp EC. In Search of a Good Death: Observations of Patients, Families, and Providers. Annals of Internal Medicine. 132(10):825-832
