The Natural Connection

Dr. Dean Ornish is not the sort of guy who would be very easy to invite home for Sunday supper in South Georgia. For over a decade he has defied conventional medical wisdom by demonstrating that heart disease can be reversed by a lifestyle regime based on a strict vegetarian low fat diet. Consequently, he could be a rather hard guest to cook for. 

Dr. Ornish is the author of a number of cookbooks, and even had his face on the cover of Newsweek once. But cookbooks featuring Liquid Egg Substitute, Vegetable Spray, and non-fat plain yogurt are a hard sell in this part of the country, and his recipe for Stuffed Cabbage with Brown Rice and Lentils never made it into the Top Ten Holiday Recipe collection in Southern Living the last time I checked. 

I had the pleasure to meet Dr. Ornish once, at a meeting in Washington DC. It was a cold, dreary day in early spring, and he had just flown in from his clinic on the West Coast. The doctor had a stuffy nose and seemed a little peaked, and in my opinion, looked much like a man who could use a helping of some chicken and dumplings and a piece of Red Velvet Cake. 

In 1998 Dr. Ornish published a fascinating book, this time with no recipes. Titled “Love & Survival—The Scientific Basis for the Healing Power of Intimacy”, it describes his research in the area of social support and its relationship to wellness. Dr. Ornish analyzed hundreds of studies that examine the relationship between loneliness, emotional isolation, and physical illness. Much of the research was done in small communities in America such as ours. 

He discovered that people who feel lonely, depressed, and isolated have three to five times the rate of premature death and disease from virtually all causes when compared to those who have a sense of love and connection and community in their lives. According to Dr. Ornish’s research, love, intimacy and being in a supportive relationship have more of an effect on your health than exercise, diet, smoking, stress, surgery, drugs, or family history.  

It was also found that people who volunteer at least once a week to help others were two and a half times less likely to die during one study than those who never volunteered. In other words, helping others helps us as well. We are all connected. 

I tried to focus on all this last week while I stood in front of Wal-Mart decked out in a borrowed fuzzy Santa hat and black elf boots with pointy toes, ringing a little silver bell. Even with my full-length down coat salvaged from the Christmas I was stranded in the Ozarks, I was still way too cold. The folks rushing into the Wal-Mart with their last minute shopping lists were shivering with cold too, and not many stopped to put money in my red Salvation Army kettle. I was trying hard not to slip into a Bah Humbug sort of mood. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the small boy with his mother who stopped to watch me. He was about 6 or 7, and all his clothes looked like they had belonged to someone else before they were his. None fit at all well. His jeans were too large in the waist, and were cinched up with a belt that could have been his dad’s.  

The boy’s shoes had worn edges, and were a discount brand, not the expensive designer type that I had seen coming and going into the store all night. His jacket, I noticed, was too thin for the cold night, and too short in the sleeves. He kept tugging at the frayed knit cuffs trying to cover his hands, which were obviously chilled, and clenched into small fists. 

They both stood near the red bucket, not speaking or moving for quite some time, but I saw the boy intently follow the hand of any kind person who stopped to put a dollar in the kettle. Finally, his mother nudged him, and he stepped forward slowly, his left hand holding up his trousers, and the right hand still a fist.  I at first thought that he was going to ask me for money, and I instinctively searched my own pocket looking for the spare change that I keep there for emergencies. 

Then the boy opened his fist and showed me his small handful of coins before he dropped them in the kettle. “I’m sorry”, he said, “I know it’s not much…” He looked up at me, then at the ground, not certain what to do or say next. 

“Oh, but it is!”, I replied, truly grateful. “Thank you very much!”. But he just stood there with eyes downcast, staring at his worn sneakers, obviously not convinced. His mother, likewise, remained silent. 

“And besides”, I continued, “this is a Magic Red Kettle, and gifts from children double before they hit the bottom!” His eyes grew wide with amazement, as he looked from me to his mother. She nodded at me, and I could see she was trying hard not to laugh at my bad outfit, as she smiled at her son and took his hand. The boy hitched up his jeans with his free hand, waved goodbye, and they both went into the store. 

I’ve decided to send Dr. Ornish an invitation to stop by my office the next time he is in the Okefenokee. We could have a chat about heart disease and healing in South Georgia. He might enjoy the challenge. I may even invite him to sample some dumplings and Red Velvet Cake, although I suspect he will politely decline. And then I’m going to offer to share my spot at the Red Kettle with him next Christmas, where he can see first hand a community with a sense of love and connection for each other, starting with its children. I believe it would be a nice thing for him to write about in his next book. 

And, I would also like to believe that with enough love, that on a night before Christmas at the Edge of the Swamp, the dreams of small children and even badly dressed bell ringers may somehow have a chance to come true. 

©2000-2003 Pauline M. Bellecci, MD