I believe listening is powerful Medicine.

Studies have shown it takes a physician about 18 seconds to interrupt a patient after he begins talking.

It was Sunday. I had one last patient to see. I approached her room in a hurry and stood at the doorway. She was an older woman, sitting at the edge of the bed, struggling to put socks on her swollen feet. I crossed the threshold, spoke quickly to the nurse, scanned her chart noting she was in stable condition. I was almost in the clear.

I leaned on the bedrail looking down at her. She asked if I could help put on her socks. Instead, I launched into a monologue that went something like this: "How are you feeling? Your sugars and blood pressure were high but they're better today. The nurse mentioned you're anxious to see your son who's visiting you today. It's nice to have family visit from far away. I bet you really look forward to seeing him."

She stopped me with a stern, authoritative voice. "Sit down, doctor. This is my story, not your story."

I was surprised and embarrassed. I sat down. I helped her with the socks. She began to tell me that her only son lived around the corner from her, but she had not seen him in five years. She believed that the stress of this contributed greatly to her health problems. After hearing her story and putting on her socks, I asked if there was anything else I could do for her. She shook her head no and smiled. All she wanted me to do was to listen.

Each story is different. Some are detailed; others are vague. Some have a beginning, middle and end. Others wander without a clear conclusion. Some are true; others not. Yet all those things do not really matter. What matters to the storyteller is that the story is heard — without interruption, assumption or judgment.

Listening to someone's story costs less than expensive diagnostic testing but is key to healing and diagnosis.

I often thought of what that woman taught me, and I reminded myself of the importance of stopping, sitting down and truly listening. And, not long after, in an unexpected twist, I became the patient, with a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis at age 31. Now, 20 years later, I sit all the time — in a wheelchair.

For as long as I could, I continued to see patients from my chair, but I had to resign when my hands were affected. I still teach med students and other health care professionals, but now from the perspective of physician and patient.

I tell them I believe in the power of listening. I tell them I know firsthand that immeasurable healing takes place within me when someone stops, sits down and listens to my story.

我深信傾聽是一種“良藥”

研究已表明醫(yī)生（有必要）在病人開始談論的18秒后再去打擾他。

這個故事發(fā)生在星期日里，那時我還有最后一個病人需要幫她診斷。我快步走向她的病房然后站在門口的過道上。她是一位上了年紀的老太太，坐在病床的角落旁，很費勁地試圖給腫脹的雙腳穿上襪子。我走進門來，簡單地跟護士問了一下情況，檢查了電子圖數據以確認她是否狀況穩(wěn)定。檢查完這些后，我心里大致了解了她的情況。

我斜靠在病床欄桿那里俯下身子看了看她。老太太問我是否能幫住她穿上襪子。我沒有正面回答她的問題。倒是跟她以“您現在感覺身體怎么樣��？您血糖和血壓很高，但是今天看起來狀況好多了。護士提到您很想見見今天過來看望您的兒子。家里人從很遠的地方過來看您，這樣您一定很高興吧。我猜想您一定很期待見到他吧。”這樣的開場白方式和她攀談了起來。

老太太嚴肅地、帶有強迫式的口吻跟我說到：“醫(yī)生，您坐下來。讓我給你講講我的生活，別老是您一個人說啊。”

我很驚訝也有點尷尬。于是我坐了下來。幫老人家穿上了襪子。她給我講了他唯一的兒子就住在離她不遠的地方，但是她已經五年了沒有見到過兒子了。她認為思念孩子的痛苦更加劇了她的病情。當聽完老人家講完自己的生活和幫她穿上襪子后，我問問了老人家我還能幫她做些什么別的事么。她搖了搖頭又笑了笑表示不需要別的了。她唯一想要的就是找個人聽她說說話。

每一個人都有自己的故事。但是每個都不同。一些人的故事很詳盡；一些人的很虛無。有的故事有開頭、過程和結尾。一些故事還在繼續(xù)著沒有尾聲。一些故事是真實發(fā)生的；有一些故事卻并不是這樣。不過，不管怎么都已不重要了。關鍵的是對那些能聽到這事情的人來說，他們能去聽就已經足夠了。-無需無意提問、無需聯(lián)想再三、無需辨別對錯。

傾聽別人的故事比起別人那高昂的診斷試驗花費的錢財要少的多，但是對別人來說，這樣的方式有助于他們的病愈和診療。

我時常想到那位老太太告訴我的那些事然后我又提醒自己談話的時候要停下來、坐在那里然后多聽別人的言論。不久，事情顛倒了過來，我倒是成了病人。在我31歲的那年，進行了多發(fā)性硬化癥的診治�，F在過去了20年了，我一直只能坐著-在輪椅上。

盡可能多地，我堅持在我的椅子上診治我的病人。但是當我的手也因病而受影響時，我不得不辭職離開。但是我依然給醫(yī)學院學生以及其他保健專業(yè)人員們上課，但是現在給醫(yī)生和患者做些調查。

我告訴他們我深信傾聽的強效力量。我告訴他們對我來說：當別人停下來然后坐在那里開始聽我講自己生活的時候，我親身體驗由此帶來的那不可估量的療效。