"We are alone," Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky said back on February 25th. Two weeks later over 2000 Ukrainians who were alive are dead. Countless others will join them.

   Millions are experiencing another kind of loneliness. Imagine yourself a single, 75 year old woman dragging your roller bag across rough terrain around a wrecked bridge. No family. No money. No food. Your enemy's presence felt with bombs that destroy your home & kill your sister.  

   Surrounded by thousands also fleeing, you may feel alone. You may also feel lonely. 

   The power responsible for your isolation & the massive suffering surrounding you is a single man, Vladimir Putin. He alone can stop the war he started.

   Who can halt this Goliath? The most unlikely of "David's"(a stand-up comic two and half years ago) has emerged from world anonymity. With Churchillian eloquence & an electrifying presence, Mr. Zelensky has not only eased his country's isolation but has rallied the entire world to his cause. 

   What could this have to do with caregiving? Everything.

   Sometimes we prefer to be alone. "Left alone" names a condition we dread.    

   Loneliness longs for healing. It is a a common symptom of illness. Agony, acute or chronic, casts sufferers into darkness. No one understands their pain.

   Caregivers hold Zelensky-like potential to counter the Goliath of pain. They can apply the bandage of their healing touch, the warmth of their smile, the relief provided by loving presence. 

   John Thompson M.D., a veteran doctor, found himself a patient for the first time. He was admitted to Nashville's Baptist Hospital when I was President.

   "How was your stay?" I asked him post discharge. 

   "Fine. Mostly because of a single caregiver." he said with a smile.

   "Which nurse?" I asked, withdrawing my pen.

   "Not a nurse, a housekeeper," he answered. "It was her presence. Every time she appeared I felt better…less lonely. I never would have guessed she would be my best caregiver."

-Erie Chapman