Many people are used to seeing the 7-lead pulse pattern on an electrocardiogram (EKG) to indicate health, and while the Q-T interval may be of great interest to people, the reality is that, over the course of our lifetimes, our pulse would look something akin to the image above. We go through periods of great stress, we go through periods of calm, and then everything else falls somewhere in the middle. But what is health?

As I’ve posted in other mediums, I believe (and was taught) that health falls along three spectrums of an equilateral triangle: physical, emotional, and spiritual. When one of these weakens, the others try to strengthen to compensate. It’s not a universal thing, but it’s a decent rule to follow (props to Dr. Wangensteen for the excellent lecture).

As many know, we had a mild scare last week with my dad suffering from rapid, acute hypertension (AKA high blood pressure) and for people who want to look it up, it would be considered Stage III hypertension. Without detailing all of the circumstances that lead up to this, and because of my own training in medicine, I wasn’t at all surprised at this outcome. But while I helped my family navigate through this tumultuous time, I reflected back on to the fundamental question: what is health?

In the United States, once can be “healthy” biologically but miserable either emotionally or spiritually. You can swap around those variables, but the point is that we are seldom in balance and – when we are – we don’t take for granted that we’re in an island of calm in the chaos that is often our lives.

The past year has been one of chaos for me on several fronts: I transitioned jobs and loved where I was to a position where I was profoundly unhappy – how much so wasn’t obvious to me at all until I left said job. Largely speaking, I am to blame for that. My immediate coworkers were people for whom I had great respect, and yet the leadership of the organization was heading down a path on which I could not – in good conscience – get onboard. My solution was to leave and find a new job. Some would argue that is radical, but it was the right decision for me – the right “prescription,” if you will.

Emotionally, this has had a damning effect on prospective relationships. Despite my best intentions, my work life spilled into my personal life, creating great amounts of strife within my mind. This led to unhealthy habits like ceasing exercising regularly, and allowing my diet to decay into a state of mockery regarding what I had been taught to eat. In summary, one aspect of my life caused all of the pillars of good health to crumble in synchrony, and I was left in an unhappy place.

Switching jobs was the same as performing cardioversion on myself. (For those unfamiliar with the term, it’s when they apply paddles and should “clear” and shock your heart to try and restore it to a normal rhythm) It had the desired effect of returning my core system to normal, a proverbial reboot, but as anyone who has either been cardioverted or observed it, the circumstances are extreme and the recovery period is not measured in minutes or hours. Similarly, I am still “recovering” from switching jobs, even though I absolutely love my new role.

Largely, this reminds me that healing – true healing – takes time. In many ways, I’m still emotionally weakened by the ordeal, and my spirituality is undergoing yet another transformation at an inconvenient time. Which brings me full circle to my dad’s blood pressure.

While sitting in the ER with him, I felt profound gratitude for the things that I had learned, and my ability to recognize that things were not life-threatening. However, I also knew that my dad needed to be in the ER, to have all of the tests performed on him, and have a doctor reassure him that all would be well and normal in a short period of time. As his medications become efficacious over a one-to-three-week period, I know he’ll feel better and slowly return to normal.

In a similar fashion, I, too, am regaining my equilibrium amongst my physical, emotional, and spiritual being. It’s not happening overnight, or even over the course of a month, but it is happening. And the reason for this post is because I feel that, as a society, we’ve come to expect miracles as the routine out of medicine. In parallel, we expect these same miraculous recoveries of ourselves after we suffer trauma of any kind: a sad truth that means we don’t take the time necessary for proper healing.

If you know someone who has suffered a malady of the body, mind, or soul: be patient. If you have suffered one yourself: be forgiving of yourself that you can’t will yourself to health overnight. It is a common belief amongst many medical professionals that the best thing to do for most people convalescing is to let them sleep, have them drink plenty of water, and let their bodies tell them when they’re better. “Don’t overdo it” is a common phrase. The key here is that, largely, people will heal on their own over time – given enough time. Sometimes you can support them by listening, others you can support them by actively doing things, and sometimes, in the hardest way possible, you can help them best by doing nothing and letting them rest. Obviously, with respect to true, serious medical conditions, trust the advice of a physician, but make sure you watch your own health (all aspects of it) as well as the health of others. Trust people when they say they’re in need of some time to heal, and assist them to the best your abilities, while making sure you’re also still taking care of yourself. To do any less is inhuman and inhumane.