I believe listening is powerful Medicine.

Studies have shown it takes a physician about 18 seconds to interrupt a patient after he begins talking.

It was Sunday. I had one last patient to see. I approached her room in a hurry and stood at the doorway¹. She was an older woman, sitting at the edge of the bed, struggling to put socks on her swollen² feet. I crossed the threshold, spoke³ quickly to the nurse, scanned her chart noting she was in stable condition. I was almost in the clear.

I leaned on the bedrail looking down at her. She asked if I could help put on her socks. Instead, I launched into a monologue⁴ that went something like this: "How are you feeling? Your sugars and blood pressure were high but they're better today. The nurse mentioned you're anxious to see your son who's visiting you today. It's nice to have family visit from far away. I bet you really look forward to seeing him."

She stopped me with a stern, authoritative⁵ voice. "Sit down, doctor. This is my story, not your story."

I was surprised and embarrassed. I sat down. I helped her with the socks. She began to tell me that her only son lived around the corner from her, but she had not seen him in five years. She believed that the stress of this contributed greatly to her health problems. After hearing her story and putting on her socks, I asked if there was anything else I could do for her. She shook her head no and smiled. All she wanted me to do was to listen.

Each story is different. Some are detailed⁶; others are vague. Some have a beginning, middle and end. Others wander without a clear conclusion. Some are true; others not. Yet all those things do not really matter. What matters to the storyteller is that the story is heard — without interruption, assumption or judgment⁷.

Listening to someone's story costs less than expensive diagnostic testing but is key to healing and diagnosis⁸.

I often thought of what that woman taught me, and I reminded myself of the importance of stopping, sitting down and truly listening. And, not long after, in an unexpected twist, I became the patient, with a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis at age 31. Now, 20 years later, I sit all the time — in a wheelchair.

For as long as I could, I continued to see patients from my chair, but I had to resign when my hands were affected⁹. I still teach med students and other health care professionals, but now from the perspective of physician and patient.

I tell them I believe in the power of listening. I tell them I know firsthand that immeasurable healing takes place within me when someone stops, sits down and listens to my story.

我深信倾听是一种“良药”

研究已表明医生（有必要）在病人开始谈论的18秒后再去打扰他。

这个故事发生在星期日里，那时我还有最后一个病人需要帮她诊断。我快步走向她的病房然后站在门口的过道上。她是一位上了年纪的老太太，坐在病床的角落旁，很费劲地试图给肿胀的双脚穿上袜子。我走进门来，简单地跟护士问了一下情况，检查了电子图数据以确认她是否状况稳定。检查完这些后，我心里大致了解了她的情况。

我斜靠在病床栏杆那里俯下身子看了看她。老太太问我是否能帮住她穿上袜子。我没有正面回答她的问题。倒是跟她以“您现在感觉身体怎么样啊？您血糖和血压很高，但是今天看起来状况好多了。护士提到您很想见见今天过来看望您的儿子。家里人从很远的地方过来看您，这样您一定很高兴吧。我猜想您一定很期待见到他吧。”这样的开场白方式和她攀谈了起来。

老太太严肃地、带有强迫式的口吻跟我说到：“医生，您坐下来。让我给你讲讲我的生活，别老是您一个人说啊。”

我很惊讶也有点尴尬。于是我坐了下来。帮老人家穿上了袜子。她给我讲了他唯一的儿子就住在离她不远的地方，但是她已经五年了没有见到过儿子了。她认为思念孩子的痛苦更加剧了她的病情。当听完老人家讲完自己的生活和帮她穿上袜子后，我问问了老人家我还能帮她做些什么别的事么。她摇了摇头又笑了笑表示不需要别的了。她唯一想要的就是找个人听她说说话。

每一个人都有自己的故事。但是每个都不同。一些人的故事很详尽；一些人的很虚无。有的故事有开头、过程和结尾。一些故事还在继续着没有尾声。一些故事是真实发生的；有一些故事却并不是这样。不过，不管怎么都已不重要了。关键的是对那些能听到这事情的人来说，他们能去听就已经足够了。-无需无意提问、无需联想再三、无需辨别对错。

倾听别人的故事比起别人那高昂的诊断试验花费的钱财要少的多，但是对别人来说，这样的方式有助于他们的病愈和诊疗。

我时常想到那位老太太告诉我的那些事然后我又提醒自己谈话的时候要停下来、坐在那里然后多听别人的言论。不久，事情颠倒了过来，我倒是成了病人。在我31岁的那年，进行了多发性硬化症的诊治。现在过去了20年了，我一直只能坐着-在轮椅上。

尽可能多地，我坚持在我的椅子上诊治我的病人。但是当我的手也因病而受影响时，我不得不辞职离开。但是我依然给医学院学生以及其他保健专业人员们上课，但是现在给医生和患者做些调查。