When Patients Are Heard, Understanding Deepens and Healing Expands
Our Bodies Speak—and We’re Willing to Help Translate
Over the last few years, I’ve come to deeply appreciate how much information our bodies hold—and how powerful it can be when patients are invited into the conversation about what they’re experiencing.
As a Gestaltist, I’m trained to pay close attention to the body—my own and others’. Our bodies often signal when something is off long before we have language for it. While we may not have medical training, we do live inside these bodies every day. When doctors are open to listening, those lived experiences can offer meaningful insight.
A Mother’s Perspective on Seizures and the Nervous System
My son had his first seizure in May of 2021. We did everything medicine rightly asks of us—neurology consults, EEGs, MRIs. At the time, we were told that many people have a single seizure with no known cause and never have another.
For a while, that seemed to be true. Then six months later, he had another seizure—this one severe enough to dislocate and break his shoulder. With that, the diagnosis shifted to epilepsy, even though the tests still didn’t show a clear cause. Shoulder surgery followed. Recovery followed. And then another seizure.
Each step of the way, we stayed engaged, asked questions, and continued to advocate. By the time he had multiple seizures close together, including a hospitalization where infection was suspected despite negative tests, it became clear to me that something deeper might be asking for attention.
Honoring the Role of Emotional Trauma
The True Beam radiation machine.
For years, I had gently named something I sensed in my son’s body. He was twelve when his dad became seriously ill. From that point forward, life was unpredictable—frequent hospital trips, sudden changes, long absences from home. Toward the end of this, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Then he lost his dad at seventeen.
That is a tremendous amount for a nervous system to carry.
I began to wonder if his body was responding to emotional triggers in the only way it knew how—by demanding attention. In June, I took him to work with a trusted colleague who specializes in somatic body work around the fight, flight, or freeze response. He was seizure-free for over two years. It was a beginning.
When Doctors Explain and Show, Understanding Grows
One of the most encouraging parts of this journey has been watching how much my son wanted to see what was happening in his body. He loved looking at X-rays and scans. When doctors took the time to explain images in ways we could understand, it gave us clarity and confidence.
We experienced this many times during Mike’s care as well. His pulmonologist regularly showed us X-rays and CT scans, walking us through what he was seeing. The thoracic surgeon often drew pictures while explaining procedures. At first, we didn’t fully understand—but over time, our understanding grew.
That mattered.
Curiosity Builds Better Questions
I’ll admit—I also did my own research. Carefully. Thoughtfully. I stayed with credible sources and used what I learned not to challenge doctors, but to ask better questions. I recognize that growing up with a physician as a parent and having long conversations with veterinarians over the years gave me a head start in medical language.
Still, what made the biggest difference wasn’t what I knew—it was that the doctors welcomed curiosity.
Partnership Creates Synergy
When doctors and patients work together—by listening, explaining, and showing—something powerful happens. Understanding deepens. Trust grows. And care becomes a shared effort rather than a one-way exchange.
Have you experienced a moment when a doctor explained something so clearly it changed how you understood your body—or a time when you wished you’d been given more information? Were images shared with you?
I’d love to hear your stories. Send me a message, maybe they can help others.
And if you’re reading this as a clinician, know this: your willingness to listen and explain is often as impactful as the treatment itself.
Every story needs a soundtrack.
This is the one I’ve chosen for this post—sometimes because of the title, sometimes the lyrics, sometimes simply the feeling it stirs in me.
CS Bar — my grandfather Charles Socolofsky’s brand. Today, it’s mine too. A legacy carried forward, one story at a time.
On the ranch, there’s a saying: Ride for the Brand. It means you show up with loyalty, integrity, and heart—you stay true to the one you serve. For me, writing here is a way of riding for the brand of my own life’s work: being authentic, living with courage, and sharing stories that matter.
Stories are powerful. They don’t land the same way for everyone—each reader brings their own experiences, hopes, and hurts to the words. That’s the beauty of it. My stories may carry one meaning for me, and yet spark something entirely different for you. That doesn’t make either version wrong. It means we’re connecting in the only way humans truly can—through our imperfect, varied interpretations of life.
So here, I’ll keep showing up. I’ll tell my stories—the raw, the ordinary, the joyful, the hard—and trust that you’ll find the piece that speaks to you. This is my way of riding for the brand and inviting you along for the journey.
Onward!
Susan
