THE BIGGER PICTURE: Earlier this year, someone I love became ill quite suddenly and spent time in hospital. In addition to loving and fighting for them, I got to learn more about Western medicine, writes Shalini Sinha.
While there is no doubt I saw many people working hard and caring deeply, it became apparent that much of what they did didn't encourage long-term health. Many of the "treatments" were motivated by what was considered difficult to feel or watch.
Western medicine has a problem with pain - it is not tolerated at all. If you, as an ally to someone suffering, are willing to watch them in pain (believing it to be a secondary aspect to the illness and perhaps even an important experience), you appear negligent, unloving or even barbaric.
But pain is a useful experience and quite possibly an integral part of the healing process.
Pain is the essence of the inherent connection between our bodies and minds. What pains the body, pains the mind, and vice versa. There are no exceptions.
When something has disrupted our functioning, pain acts as both an indicator and a process to pay it attention and make it right; an important channel awakened and mobilised. Thus, the path to healing the body or mind includes stepping through pain.
In the Western medical model, pain is not allowed. Each appearance of discomfort must be addressed and suppressed.
While it is no longer a secret that our medical drugs are designed to address symptoms and not necessarily the causes of those symptoms, I am still surprised when treatments aren't intended to cure anything at all but simply "manage" conditions by removing the signs of discomfort.
Paracetamol is an excellent example - a common drug meant to bring down a fever and suppress pain - even if both a fever and pain are useful responses for a body trying to increase its efficiency and become healthy.
Antibiotics are another. Meant to kill an invading organism, antibiotics are far too often given when no invading organism exists, all the while killing vital, domestic organisms in an unscrupulous friendly fire.
I was shocked, however, to discover that an antibiotic includes painkillers designed to give an impression of wellness while we remain sick. I was even more shocked to discover that an anaesthetic often includes hallucinogens to distort our perception and amnesiacs to prevent us having knowledge of the surgeries we experience.
An inability to face pain - an insistence on hindering normal, even required responses - is a negative approach that suppresses, rather than encourages, healing.
The view that we shouldn't, or couldn't, face the reality of our distresses is a disempowering one. Thus, rather than supporting us to face, understand and move through the pain we are in, much of our medical treatment is focused on denying it. This avoidance has long-lasting effects, particularly with respect to our overall mental health. It weakens our courage and belief in ourselves. It weakens our power. While the intention is to heal one ailment, we usually encourage a few more.
It is becoming increasingly apparent to me that the key to mobilising our corrective and healing powers is through relaxation; actual, fundamental relaxation of mind, body and soul.
Unfortunately, everything about our current society seems to be moving in the opposite direction. Even our conception of relaxation has come to involve ideas of shutting down rather than evoking a deep awakening.
We are expected to disappear instead of becoming stronger. There is no doubt that moving to deep relaxation will involve moving through our pains.
It might not seem obvious, but managing physical pain requires social support. We cannot have the mental attention to move through pain and access the required levels of attentive relaxation unless we have enough stores of love, compassion and generosity to develop courage against fear.
Furthermore, our experiences of facing the multiple emotional hurts that are part of living give us experience to face that edgy, physical pain when it arises.
Once again, we are social animals and require groups. We need people to whom we can tell our stories and share our heartaches, free from fear and criticism. We need to acknowledge what it is we really face, regardless of how painful. And while many of us are afraid to look at reality, for fear the grief and loss of hope will be unbearable, I've noticed that a factual, non-judgmental expression of our current situation can give great relief and new hope.
Facing reality includes facing pain, as well as joy and triumph. As long as we remain unable to face reality, however, we remain unable to hold a clear perspective of our selves - how powerful we are, how valuable we are, how much we're worth fighting for. Without this, we cannot genuinely hold steady to the simple conviction that we are worth healing.
Shalini Sinha is an independent producer and journalist, and a counsellor on equality issues. She has lectured on women's studies in UCD and is co-presenter of Mono, RTÉ's intercultural programme.