Debates in the media about failing care standards in our hospitals are important but can sometimes be a bit sterile and focus more on the problems that need sorting than the people who need care.
There is a wonderful poem circulating on the internet that is a probable adaptation of a poem by Phyllis McCormack (1913—1994). Originally entitled ‘Look Closer’ she wrote it in the early 1960s. However US poet David L Griffith also claims ownership of it. It’s likely the original writer of the piece will never be truly verified. It now comes under a number of different titles such as: ‘Too Soon Old’, ‘Crabby Old Man’, ‘Crabbit Old Woman’ or, in the latest circulating version: ‘Cranky Old Man.’
While we may not know the original author, this need not diminish the power of the poem’s message for older adults who feel forgotten and invisible, for doctors and nurses who provide much-needed medical services for elderly men and women, and for the caregivers who give comfort, care and support to their elderly loved ones.
Society too often judges personal worth on what we can do, not who we are. This poem is a poignant reminder never to forget that every single person has a heart, a soul, a precious humanity, and is made in the image of God. It seems particularly relevant in the light of debates about nursing care and compassion, and even demands for assisted suicide.
God said to Samuel: ‘The Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart’ (1 Samuel 16:7). This poem challenges us to do the same.
What do you see nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man one not very wise,
Uncertain of habit with far away eyes.
Who dribbles his food and makes no reply…
when you say in a loud voice , ‘I do wish you’d try?’
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
and forever is losing a sock or shoe.
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will…
with bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you’re thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
as I live at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,
brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young boy of sixteen with wings on his feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now, I have young of my own.
who need me to guide, and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now going too fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At fifty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me, to see I don’t mourn.
At sixty, once more babies play round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, wife is now dead.
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigour depart.
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young man still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few.
Gone too fast, and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people, open and see.
Not a cranky old man;
Look closer – see ME!!