Religion, Spirituality, and Chronic Illness: Do They Really Make a Difference in Recovery?

This is one of those posts that transcends beyond stroke survivors. In fact, it's my first. So welcome diabetics, cancer patients, heart anomalies and, of course, stroke survivors. There are certainly more. This post asks the big question: Do religion and spirituality really work to make your condition, or someone you know, or someone you read about, more tolerable, improved, or completely erased?

Dr. Larry Dossey, an Internal Medicine specialist, says in the Huffington Post, religion is the ordered set of beliefs, behaviors, and practices in a group of similar-thinking people. Spirituality is different in that it links to a higher power of another nature, sometimes nature itself. Not all religious souls are spiritual, nor are all spiritual people religious. But they both recognize prayer as transmission to whoever is out there, whether it's God, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, among others, or simply the universe at large. 

"Compelling evidence suggests that those who follow a spiritual path in their lives live several years longer than those who do not follow such a path, and that they experience a lower incidence of almost all major diseases," says Dossey.

So to follow that line of thought, do prayers matter? Research, including my own, says prayers go hand-in-hand with positive thinking. I see it on Facebook all the time: please send your prayers to my child with leukemia, please pray for my brother who had a head-on crash, and so on. I started thinking, those are people of faith (the ones who live longer), who really believe that prayers help. 

That way of thinking is infectious. Now I sort of do, too. But not completely. I have become an agnostic, (or not knowing if God exists). How could I get a stroke, for example, if God looked out for me. To that, others counter, everything happens for a reason. That is why I'm on the fence, but the everything-happens-for-a-reason people are tipping the scale. But then again, who am I to say. I believe that my father is my guardian angel, for cryin' out loud. But I digress.

In an article published in an issue of Mayo Clinic Proceedings, Mayo Clinic researchers reviewed the relationship between religion or spirituality (or both) and its tie to any sort of recovery. The researchers found "a majority of the nearly 350 studies of physical health and 850 studies of mental health that have used religious and spiritual variables, that religious involvement and spirituality, are associated with better health outcomes."

In a recent segment on Good Morning America, Dr. Richard Besser, ABC News's Chief Health and Medical Editor, said practicing a religion may be good for your health where medicine and faith often intersect.

Says Besser, "Lester Breslow, a true pioneer in public health...[conducted a study] with Professor James E. Enstrom of the University of California, Los Angeles, and showed that the life expectancy of Mormon men was almost ten years longer than that of the general population of white American males. Female Mormons lived between five and six years longer than their general population counterparts."

 

The pair also found the introspective nature of religious services can lower stress and foster love, forgiveness, hope, and optimism, which leads to a positive outlook on life.

The University of Maryland conducted a study and found that 67% of the specialists were praying for a patient. Compared to patients who were not prayed for, patients who were prayed for showed improvements in the paths of their illnesses, and fewer complications and deaths.

A clinical study at Duke University found that patients who attend religious services tend to have better outcomes, like immune function. In another clinical study of 232 adults who were 60 years or older and who underwent heart surgery, religious patients were "3 times less likely to die within the 6 months after surgery than those who were not."   

Also, Randy Travis, that Hall-of-Famer country star, had a stroke recently. His wife, Mary, professed, "They really said there was no hope; go ahead and pull the plug. I went to his bedside and I said, 'Baby, you've got to give me some more fight.' And I knew that he had a little talk with Jesus, because he squeezed my hand, and a little tear fell down," she continued. "And I knew that he wasn't through yet." More prayer, I imagine.

Enough? I may not know if God exists, but I'm leaning toward the positive side that He does. As my grandmother used to say about anything, "It couldn't hurt. So try." I'm going to join a congregation as my first step toward worship and then we'll see where it goes. While I'm there, I'll pray for others and, truth be told, a little for myself.

Swallowing, a Simple Thing You Take for Granted

Almost 7 years ago, when I was brand new to the constantly changing, faceless group known as stroke survivors in the rehab facility, I was more absorbed with my lack of right-sided movement than with anything else. And I was on intravenous, plus a feeding tube for 5 weeks that injected "formula" directly into my gastrointestinal tract to keep me alive in name only. I had no appetite anyway because the noxious depression, accompanied by random seizures, kept on going, never stopping, even for mealtime.

After 5 weeks, I was subject to a swallowing test where, if I passed in the dimly lit room with an accompanying screen with video imaging to see if my throat muscles moved correctly, I could eat what is known as a mechanical soft diet, a collection of foods that disgusted me, just because: soft mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, jello, pudding, overcooked vegetables--those sorts of things, soft things. The first time, I failed the test. I wasn't swallowing correctly and my tongue was going awry, but I didn't even know. But a week later, I passed.

There was a separate section set up for all those who passed that test, the controlled feast as I called it, and across from each person sat a speech therapist taking notes on the progress while the people ate the mechanical soft stuff. It made me nervous and a little edgy, but I ate, albeit drooling with food occasionally falling out, little bits at a time to avoid choking, to keep the feeding tube removal on schedule.

So all tolled, 6 weeks, and then I could eat without the intent gaze of the speech therapist watching me, the feeding tube was out and, as I say in my book, the tuna sandwich, which I ordered first, never tasted so good.

You might take the act of swallowing for granted, but stroke survivors shouldn't. Neither should anybody else. Swallowing, as I came to find out, is a complicated process where any one thing could go wrong. Swallowing food or liquid involves moving the substance from the mouth, down the back of the throat, through the esophagus, and into the stomach.

The condition is called dysphagia, when a food or drink substance that is swallowed enters the airways and/or lungs, sometimes resulting in pneumonia. In most people, aspiration (or the sucking of food or drink) would produce a ferocious cough, often expelling what is in there. In stroke patients, food or liquid could go down the wrong way, and they wouldn't even be aware of it because of the paralysis. Thus, the test that was given to me.

Suzanne Kowler, a speech and language pathologist at St. Mary's Medical Center Acute Rehabilitation unit in San Francisco, says, "If all the muscles on one side are weak or paralyzed, it's going to be difficult to chew. They'll have something sticking on the right [or left] side of their mouth. Normally it takes about a second to swallow. Even a small disruption places that person at risk for aspiration into the lungs."

Through Kowler, I understood the test better. A diagnostic tool called a modified barium test, or videofluoroscopic swallowing study (VFSS), allows the therapist to watch a video in real time of a stroke patient consuming various liquids and foods.

"We can see if the food is going into the airway or not. And we can see when the patient coughs if they're effectively expelling food from the airway," says Kowler. The test also demonstrates which muscles are not functioning.

The National Institute for Health says aside from stroke, conditions like traumatic brain injury, cerebral palsy, Parkinson disease and other degenerative neurological disorders such as amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease), multiple sclerosis, progressive supranuclear palsy, Huntington disease, and myasthenia gravis could experience dysphagia.

The overwhelming research says to eat slowly and don't recline--or worse, lay flat on your back--when you eat. Eating shouldn't be a hazard. But you already knew that, didn't you?

One more thing: I couldn't drink water years after my stroke because it brought on a choking fit. The speech therapist said that water is "the thinnest liquid that there is--you have to drink a thicker substance." After that explanation, instead of apple juice which was my only drink for the next year and high in calories, I switched to ginger ale. When I found out a few months later the ginger ale had high fructose corn syrup adding pounds, I diluted it with water. And then more water was added to the ginger ale.

I went to a festival about a year after that, and all they had was water. I was so thirsty it left me no choice but to drink it, bracing myself for the coughing spell. And you know what? I didn't cough, even one time. I've been drinking plain water for about a year now, and that diluted ginger ale was a blessing, the training, it turns out, to drink water again.