IN THE MIDST OF DEATH THERE IS LIFE
My vigorous psychoanalyst of 11 years always took three months off for the summer. He would get in touch with me when he came back. This 11th summer he failed to call. I called a few hospitals worried that he might be in one of them. I was unfortunately right.
Even though a vigorous man of 80 Dr. Wittenberg contracted meningitis. He was apparently near death and had not been able to contact me. A few weeks later he did call and was up to seeing me. He looked weak but was able to resume his practice.
Outside his waiting room I heard him saying he was in great pain apparently asking his doctor for some pain killers. Obviously put off by his doctor's response he said that he will just have to tough it out. I imagined the doctor had said that he would not be alert if he took the medication. It was clear to me he was in very bad shape and I feared he was dying.
My fears were confirmed as I lay on the couch free associating listening to him clearly snoring. Reflexively I got angry - raised my voice and asked him accusedly: Are you snoring? True to his analytic ways - he answered: and if I am - free associate.
Half laughing by his remarkable response I instantaneously flashed back to my mother dying of cancer in her bedroom and me hating to go into see her - a traumatic time that happened when I was 15 and she was 40.
I couldn't tolerate the smell of her illness, and the look of her depressed half smiling emaciated self. I hated all of it and kept away from the dreaded door of her death bed room . In avoiding a confrontation with the horror of her dying I developed a reactive mountain of shame and guilt.
The enormity of this traumatic experience came flashing back into my consciousness as Wittenberg said "free associate." It was clear as a bell - that I was reliving an awful repressed time from the past in the present 'parallel' experience with my dying analyst.
True to our pact that we both had to tell our total truth to each other no matter what - I next said that what I had to say was seemingly impossible to mouth but I had to do it nevertheless. I said I think you are dying. He said that at such moments he believed in ex President Truman's philosophy: "If you can't stand the heat then get out of the kitchen." I marveled at my analyst's inspiring directness, courage, and honesty.
As it was near the end of the session he said something to me which was to be the predictable last line of each session before he died: "I intend to be here next session. And you?" Without skipping a beat I said if you are here I will be here too. And that is what happened for about 8 or so more sessions.
As I was nearing the completion of my analysis, his death the day after what would have been the 9th session from that time, was not unexpected. During those last 9 sessions there was an organic attempt to close out many experiences in a way that brought my analysis to as good an end as could reasonably be expected considering the dark cloud that surrounded our sessions.
At first I felt nothing - similar to the reaction I remember having experienced when I got the news of my mother's death. These 'neutral' feelings continued for about 6 more months. Then one day I experienced the deepest depression I have ever had in my life. I knew it had to be a delayed mourning for him and perhaps my mother as well. I first thought that I should find another analyst and work out my grieving with him. But I decided against it and felt I should try to tough this out on my own.
It happened to be a time when I was under great personal and professional pressure. I was in debt, there were severe marital difficulties to mention a few of them. But as I persisted I gradually felt the depression lift and eventually I emerged about 2 or three months later feeling as psychologically strong as I had ever felt in my life. To me the entire experience was a critical test of the efficacy of my remarkable life saving experience with my psychoanalyst.
I do not recommend this for all analysands or all patients to go through but if and when it happens it is clear to me that even this most terrible of all terrible events can be used in the service of life affirming benefits for all who choose to struggle with the struggle of it.
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