The Power Of Human Touch

I lay in bed all day today, and much of this evening too, finally getting up at 8:30 PM to attempt to go to the bathroom. I've been constipated for a couple of days, something that happens to a great many pALS along with many others confined to a wheelchair or living with immobility in some way. I've always said "in order for your innards to move, your body must move too."

There are two principle reasons for my lassitude. First, the obvious. I am worn and tired after a very busy week, nights where I did not sleep well, days where I was on the go far more than normal. The second, less obvious reason, is that I had no reason to get up today. There was nobody visitng. I had no urgent tasks to do. So I did nothing.

The only human contact I had today was the rather perfunctory paid contact provided by my Home Care Aide. She was with me for a short time this morning as I took my pills and put on some basic clothing. Even so, her physical contact with me was very limited, minimal to say the least. It's important to note that Home Care provides for my physical care, not the care of my spirit or emotions. The come in, do their job, and leave, rarely making any contact beyond that minimum.

That human contact is essential for my well-being, for anybody's well-being. There is ample research to say that human touch is essential in our life. As per this article in Psychology Today, "Physical contact distinguishes humans from other animals. From a warm handshake or sympathetic hug to a congratulatory pat on the back, we have developed complex languages, cultures, and emotional expression through physical contact. But in a tech-saturated world, non-sexual human touch is in danger of becoming rare, if not obsolete. Despite the benefits of digital advancement, it is vital to preserve human touch in order for us truly to thrive."

One of the terrific things about having my young grandchildren about is that they have no qualms about touching me. During the week there were any number of hugs from Rose and Quinn. Rose was eager to be near me, most times. Quinn had this charming habit of running up and kissing my arm, then saying "I love you Grandpa." Those moments are immeasurable in their value, both now and in memory.

The sad reality I hear from many pALS, even those in loving, married relationships, is that they don't get touched enough. This is not sexual touch. This is the simplicity of a hug, a hand on the shoulder, or someone sitting in close contact. Even those married pALS tell me that their partners become care givers, and lose the touch of love that matters so much. One said to me "He is afraid to touch me. He is afraid he will break me." It is the sad reality of this isolating disease.

The reality is that human touch does so much for us, beyond the obvious feelings of love and affection. It improves our general well-being. It improves our overall immune system. It reduces our internal anger and agression. It reduces barriers to trust and overall communication. But most importantly, it makes us feel like we are alive, like we have a reason to live. Without human contact, we lose our humanity, and our will to live.

I often go for several days where nobody other than a Home Care Worker touches me in any way. Not a hug, not even a handshake. I feel it. I know it. So where there is nobody to get out of bed for, I just stay in bed. And I revere those who are not afraid to make that physical contact with me. It matters.