Psychology of care

In my previous column ‘Psychology of colonialism’ (Oct 1, 2024), there were discussions on how colonialism affected the psychology of colonized people in countries such as Pakistan. That was more of an academic discussion but on a personal level it triggered a thought process in me.

Here I share what I went through when my father was under treatment and then died on June 27 this year. Sharing these experiences may prove useful for many of us who are otherwise decent people but who end up unknowingly behaving in a certain manner that, rather than comforting, creates more discomfort for the concerned family. I have observed certain psychological traits people display while trying to be caring and offering condolences.

When we get to know that a friend or relative – or somebody in our friend’s family – is ill or sick, first it is better to think about how close we are to that friend or relative. Here being close means meeting them frequently, visiting their home at will, and sharing with them your family matters. If you are just an acquaintance and know them from a distance, perhaps it is better to hold on to your urge to call. In this age when various messaging services are available, it is best to leave a message and ask for an appropriate time to call.

It is not necessary to immediately call them and inquire about every minute detail of the disease. There appears to be a wide cultural difference between countries. In Pakistan even highly educated people do not respect – or do not realize – the significance of personal space which involves keeping a distance from people you are not fairly close to. When a family member is under treatment the patient and the carers have to visit doctors and hospitals frequently. In this situation when your phone starts ringing incessantly one has to either ignore it or respond briefly or even curtly.

In Pakistan, when the receiver does not accept a call, many of us tend to call repeatedly until the receiver responds. Then starts a detailed discussion about what the disease is, how it developed, what medicines are in use, which consultant or doctor is treating the patient, and so on. Then starts a series of recommendations about how to cure the disease; various alternative medicines come under discussion, and a wide range of possible solutions you get for free.

In my father’s case involving a hip joint replacement, the best surgeon in town was taking care of it. But there were many who raised doubts about the hospital itself, and then started citing cases that went wrong at that hospital, and how they had to take their patient to another clinic that was much better.

Some presented nightmarish scenarios with horrifying results; others expressed complete lack of confidence in the surgeon who belonged to a minority community and could ‘spoil’ the hereafter of the patient. They were more concerned about the hereafter rather than the here and now of the case. Some even questioned the possibility of a body being buried with a foreign object – an artificial hip joint that was not part of the body at birth.

If somebody in your family is suffering from an autoimmune disease, you end up explaining what that means and then the same person who did not have a clue about it suddenly becomes an expert on it with readymade pieces of advice. If because of the disease or any other pressing situation you deactivate your social media, your friends and relative think that you owe them a detailed explanation on why you have not been posting lately. If you post a good quote or a couplet or a poem, people start jumping on conclusions about your mental state.

Comments appear such as ‘I hope everything is alright’, ‘Is there something wrong?’, ‘you appear to be depressed’, ‘why don’t you consult a psychiatrist’, ‘there is something that you are hiding’; and there are calls to set things right that may not be wrong in the first place. There is unbound curiosity or inquisitiveness to poke one’s nose into everything that may not concern you directly. Many friends barge into your home to inquire about your or your family member’s health without first taking permission to do so. Even if you repeatedly tell them there is no need for a visit, you get them anyway.

Then there are follow-up calls ad nauseam from remote relatives and friends living in faraway lands. When my father was on his death bed, a relative started taking his pictures and making his video. I was not there to stop him and my brother did not expect that he would post that video on social media. We had to call that idiotic relative of ours to remove that video which was in bad taste.

Finally when my father was no more, I immediately started receiving calls for condolences. From close friends it was comforting to know that they cared and offered help; but there were many more from those we hardly knew. The lesson is that you just send a message if you are not pretty close to the bereaved family rather than engaging them in a conversation about how the angel of death arrived and how the deceased breathed his last. We announced the date and time of the funeral on social media and various groups, still there were incessant calls about the time and the location of the burial rites.

On the day of the funeral too, it is better not to crowd the home since morning if the burial is in the evening. We had a steady stream of people who gathered since morning to condole and to say that they would not be able to attend the funeral due to other engagements. While you are busy in arrangements, you end up responding to endless calls and visitors who would have done better by just joining or not joining the funeral. After the funeral we announced the location and time for the soyem, which means those who could not attend the funeral may come to offer condolences.

The next day of the funeral – when the entire family was exhausted and desperately needed some rest – our doorbells and phones were ringing since morning. There were many who could not wait for the third day or had some other engagement, finding it convenient to visit in accordance with their own comfort. The lesson is that if you can’t attend the funeral, wait for the third day and attend the soyem at the specified location and time, rather than crowding the home of the bereaved family on the second day.

These are some of experiences our family went through and the lessons I learnt. It is better to be caring and offer advice and condolences but there is a need to change our attitudes and behaviours while dealing with friends and relatives who are already under stress due to certain health issues in the family. Our friends and relatives do not owe us an explanation for deaths or diseases in their family. This is the lesson we as a society must learn.

The writer holds a PhD from the University of Birmingham, UK. He tweets/posts @NaazirMahmood and can be reached at: mnazir1964@yahoo.co.uk