Patients get to know their doctors.
Doctors are supposed to know the most, but patients often know as much or more.
Near the end of every visit, one of my patients asks, “So, do you have chickens yet?”
Cholesterol is boring. Let’s talk about something else. He knows I can’t resist.
Patients learn what their doctors love: chickens, sheep, firewood, lumber, politics and a bunch of other things guaranteed to get me off-track and behind schedule.
A change of expression and tone tell me doctor-talk is done. Forehead wrinkles soften, eyes widen ever-so-slightly, and mouths form tiny smirks.
“So, what’s up with Trudeau anyways?”
I gobble the bait.
Off we rush down a rabbit hole unrelated to cholesterol or colonoscopies. When we finally get back to cholesterol, no debate remains.
“Sure, I’ll try the pill, doc. Maybe see how it goes?”
Someone should study whether off-topic conversation does more to increase compliance than textbook descriptions of therapy.
Most patients already know what they want, especially if it’s the tenth time hearing it. Patients want to skip the science and get to the chickens.
Chickens and COVID
In 2018, ruralism was gaining popularity, with a millennial twist.
Goat yoga, homemade sour dough, and backyard chickens grew almost as fast as TikTok. (Well, almost.)
Discussions about heritage livestock lurked in every corner of social media. Gardens and compost were hipster and cool.
The coronavirus made ruralism viral.
Locked-down anxiety seemed to fuel angry flash mobs. Exhausted by apocalyptic news with nothing left to watch on TV, people turned to happy chickens.
Try this.
Grab a big handful of chicken scratch, throw it in the run, then sit still and watch.
After an initial flurry of squawks and flapping, all the chickens will cock their heads sideways.
A dozen hens will stare at you with one eye.
A suspicious chorus will swell, “brrrrraaaawk, brraawk, brawk-brawk.”
A poultry crowd of startled teachers interrupted in the middle of overseeing a final exam: How dare you disturb us—You’re late!
A few seconds later, the chicken chorus changes to a happy, “bruk-bruk, bruk-bruk-bruk.” Even the rooster joins in.
You simply cannot stay anxious or mad while watching happy chickens. You might be mad, as in mad as a hatter, but you cannot stay mad. I dare you to try.
Be careful.
Your pursuit of a Prozac substitute may leave you crawling with chickens.
“Just a few for fresh eggs,” they said.
My children now have a flock of 20 and have hatched 50 more—all sold. Another 56 rock back and forth in the incubator. We cannot eat all the eggs we collect. Fortunately, they sell out as hatching eggs.
The chickens spawn other species, too: cats (with 4 new kittens), a puppy, three Shetland sheep …
Chickens and Politics
Chickens and politics have more in common than you might imagine. Group behaviour, herd instincts and startle patterns mirror human political reactions. Food fights, jealousy, and hen-pecking — a feathered homo sapiens’ psychology.
Ruralism waxes when career, consumerism, and communal life become intolerable. People long to escape.
Marketers use the outdoors to sell everything from luxury cars to margarine. The best homes back onto a park or golf course.
If you treat nature well, she responds in kind. She holds no grudges; levels no complaint. Nature red in tooth and claw exists, no question, but not much in the barnyard.
People feel better when they can pursue what they love instead of protesting what they hate. Eternal protest is not a viable life plan. Even Trotskyites burn out. At some point, people want to enjoy the things they love. We want those things to continue and get even better.
Conservation
Scratch a revolutionary and you find someone deeply attached to what they love. They talk revolution but live conservation.
People want to keep what they value and improve it where they can. But no one, not even the angriest radical, wants a great reset on the focus of their affection.
The solution to unrest is to remind people about things they like and want to keep. Get them to stop and remember what they used to love.
In a perverse way, lockdowns have done that. They forced people to sit and look at something outside, something living.
If we turn off our cellphones and watch closely, unrest, anxiety, and dis-ease soften. We feel better.
And feeling better leads to better physical health.
Trust me: chickens can help.
For more chicken, kitten, puppy, and sheep pictures, check out Whatley Acres on Instagram.
Thanks so much for reading!
These days I only find time to post once a month or so. But I am still writing all the time. I’ll try to share more links next post:
WHATLEY: Think Canada’s pandemic response was better than the U.S.? Think again – Toronto Sun.
COVID-19 in Ontario. Infographic and commentary, MLI
Lived next door to my uncle in a rural township in Essex County until I was 14 years old. He raised chickens and I found them absolutely fascinating. I could never hope to count the many summer and weekend days that I ‘wasted’ just watching and listening to them. My best thinking and dreaming happened with those chickens. My uncle could find me in the chicken coop more often than not on those mornings when he came to collect the eggs..
Nothing to do with COVID or politics…just reminiscing about the chickens…
Ahha … I knew we shared a deeper connection, Paul. 😀
We have a great opportunity to point people toward things that will make life more fun and alive for them.
Thanks so much for taking time to post a comment!
Be well,
I got to know chickens (roosters really) all too well in the middle of the Papua New Guinea jungle in the mid 70’s when, while visiting villages on medical patrols, we would be awakened by the cacophony of their welcome to the early morning twilight, sometime around 5 am. It was impossible to sleep through. Fond memories.
Enjoyed your current book Shawn. Am now passing it to friends.
Hello Ralph,
Those sound like great memories. Yes, the roosters can be a bit of a pain … especially as teenagers. They seem to have crowing competitions. I suppose it could be random, but I’d swear they were trying to outdo each other.
Hey, thanks so much for reading the book! Really happy you liked it and that you are telling others. I cannot imagine a higher compliment. Really appreciate you letting me know.
Be well!
Shawn
Still holding out…no chickens yet. Well written Shawn.
Hey John,
Great to hear from you. I think of you whenever I look at my tiny, old-fashioned jointer and remember your tank. I hope you still find time to use it.
Sure appreciate you reading and taking time to post a comment!
Get chickens my friend.
🙂
Chickens aside, “Small talk” is a wonderful part of English culture: building relationships, trust & mutual respect, expressing good intentions & bringing in the sense of comradeship, rather than a simple exchange of information & official communication: it by itself provides the therapeutic effect to the interaction & ensures compliance with the treatment plan.
And also the smart advocacy as a good use of these small talks: to create awareness of the present situation in the society as much as it relates to the medicine, not from the perspective of the official mainstream media, but rather the vision of the front-line workers, to ensure the right focus & support from our patients.
All wise comments, Alex. I agree: patients and doctors stand more to lose by eliminating small talk than either of them gains by sticking to the ‘data’.
Thanks for reading and posting a comment!
Presently in COVID isolation ( rather high risk) and out of the office , I miss the banter and small talk with my patients, colleagues and staff …it made work fun.
Many of my patients moved to rural areas on retirement…the Portuguese seemed to do so in particular with their dream of raising chickens
One particular couple moved to Mennonite country and loved it..their drive would mysteriously clear itself after snowfall.
They purchased chickens from their Mennonite neighbour and during each visit to the office the Tillich of chickens would arise…the fencing to keep out predators…the fear of birds of prey…how much sun light was required for eggs to be laid …one learns so much by listening to patients as they speak of their lives and the world in general.
I’n this virtual world of COVID it’s all gone…I’m not good at chatting on phones or on zoom at the best of times..I listen to my colleagues speak , awaiting a virtual CME , about what is going on in their world of virtual medicine…the old skills of observing a patient walk in, a family walk in, observing, listening seems to be going the way of the Dodo…forming a therapeutic relationship by telephone and computer screen is a skill that that the seem to possess and I don’t …it seems to be a world of diagnosis by box ticking questionnaires and treatment by numbers much like painting by numbers and referral to apps.
Speaking of COVID I got my first Pfizer shot only to find that my second got punted into off label territory and may well be punted ahead even further by the all wise powers that be …am saddened to hear that many of my front line colleagues still in the trenches are being denied their second shot…some of the under 55’s denied altogether because of the guidelines.
In the meantime, I really do miss the office/ hospital/ patient banter that I took for granted for over 50 years.
Fantastic comment, Andris. I think you speak for many … this is not how people planned to practice medicine.
Always enjoy your blog Shawn.
How I long to pursue what I love….being prevented from doing so by incompetent decision makers responding to a generational pestilence.
In the meantime,I am left to criticize what I hate….in an attempt to influence thought and decision making,recognizing the fruitless exercise,but it makes me feel better.
My daughter has 150 chickens on her farm near Fergus….haven’t bought an egg in years.
Thanks Ram
Love how you put this: “How I long to pursue what I love…In the meantime, I am left to criticize what I hate…”
And 150 hens, wow. At least they are on your daughter’s property! 🙂
Great to hear from you!
Don’t fret about only occasional notes…enjoy your chickens.
You bring peace of mind to those of us who read you regularly….even we citydwellers who remember gathering eggs from our grandfather’s coop (and cleaning it, too)
Stay well in body and mind,
Joe
That was the nicest thing to say. Really appreciate it. I have been fretting–far too much. I get to wrestle with half-formed ideas here, offer them to you, and then hear whether I’m on the right track or totally in the wrong coop. 😉
I appreciate hearing about your grandfather, too. I can’t tell you how many people reached out by email on this post. Many, many people have fond memories of chickens somewhere deep inside them.
Thanks again. I hope you stay well too.
Cheers