In the most recent New York Times Sunday edition, there was a poignant article at the end of the Magazine section, written by Dr. Abraham Verghese, a Professor at the University of Texas Health Sciences Center in San Antonio. Dr. Verghese had travelled to New Orleans last week to treat those Katrina refugees who needed medical assistance. He shares with us his feelings of inadequacy in attempting to give his patients not only physical healing that their bodies needed, but more importantly, emotional healing and sustenance that their souls craved. He felt that his mere words were so empty of empathy, and he was totally unprepared for the devastation he saw on a human level. Now I'll tell you what the good doctor said that moved me to tears. He meets an old sick man, a man with gnarled fingers and toes, but a man with the spirit of life still crackling within him. He tells the doctor what happened, how he was caught by the flood waters and had nowhere to go for several long and exhausting days. He waited and waited for help to come, but it was for naught. Finally he was rescued and here he was, dry for the first time in a week. Patient: "Doc, they treat refugees in other countries better than thery treated us." Doctor Verghese: "I'm so sorry," I said. "So sorry." And that's when my tear ducts gave way, for I realized a simple truth that he uttered with such sublime dignity. Listening to comments to and about the flood victims; to all the local and national political leaders who "took responsibility" for their abysmal human response to the hurricane; at no time did I ever hear anyone say to the victims "I'm sorry" for what happened to you and your loved ones. What would it have taken for those simple words of kindness to have been heard by those who had survived by the skin of their teeth? Why couldn't our elected officials find within themselves these simple words of comfort? Why was it so hard form them? What were they thinking? Of course the flood victims knew that it was a natural disaster that caused the waters of Hell cover them and their homes. They knew this was not the fault of any human being. But no one said "I'm sorry," and so their human dignity was washed away with their childhood pictures and their stainless steel place settings. Was anyone in fact truly sorry, or did the human dimension of all this fade away into the political games that were begun immediately. Call me a cynic, but also call me a man of hope. When there is no hope, I look for it. And I found it in Dr. Verghese's simple yet profound words. "I'm so sorry," he said. "so sorry." I'm sorry too, but not just for those who had to leave their homes and offices and posessions and their feelings of safety. I'm sorry that so many of our leaders were unable to say "I'm sorry." The survivors will yet create a new life for themselves; they will in time regain their dignity and their humanity because they will be strong; I wonder if our politicians ever will. |
