Difficult decisions

“It is necessary to break the wall, the pipes will have to be completely changed,” the plumber said with uncompromising sobriety. It happened on the morning of January 3rd. The night before, a downstairs neighbor called furiously at our apartment. His fury was more than understandable: a puddle appeared on the ceiling in his corridor, from which a rare rain soon began. What a New Year’s gift! The plumber demanded by him from the house management came only the next day (which is also understandable: a holiday!). The leak didn’t show up right away. The specialist was about to leave when it occurred to me to look «in-he is there, lower and to the left.» In the white beam of a flashlight, a drop of water shone treacherously out of the darkness. Pipes were changed by the previous owner of the apartment. Who knows how long they had to serve? It’s decided, we put new ones! I was full of enthusiasm — until I heard what was to be done for this.

“Well, the tile, of course, will have to be removed,” the plumber finished me off, tapping my snow-white tiles with an indifferent hand. The renovation was completed a year ago. I just paid off my debts. Now everything was about to go down the drain. But when I was ready to say “do whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t leak,” it turned out that in any case, nothing could be done before January 9th. Cause? All the same: holidays! Thus, we were doomed to prolong the enmity with the distressed neighbor, who presented us with a just, but impossible demand — to stop using water. But at the same time, we suddenly got extra time to think.

***

Two months before the plumbing episode described above, I ended up in the hospital. With what specifically, I will not tell — for my story, it is not the diagnosis itself that matters, but the fact that it turned out to be not the only one. Only a few days had passed after my minor operation, when I was called into the office of the head of the department. There was a whole council there. Having surrounded me in a tight circle, kind doctors with sad eyes recommended that I immediately undergo another operation, a larger one. In case of refusal, terrible consequences were promised. I trembled, but still decided to think in freedom, outside the hospital walls. After being discharged, I went to several doctors. Two agreed with the diagnosis, but considered that the surgical treatment was too drastic, and suggested therapy — two different therapeutic methods. Two more made a different diagnosis, that is, two more different diagnoses. And I managed to go to the ultrasound a couple of times. And it turned out that there, in the black and white scenery of my shimmering innards, different viewers see completely different performances. What seemed to one to be a Shakespearean tragedy, from the point of view of another, was drawn to a maximum of everyday drama. As a result, I ended up with a bunch of tests on my hands, three diagnoses and a myriad of versions of further developments.

• The present and future of our brain

***

Of course, these two incidents have a different scale. And if the worst outcome of one promised black holes in the walls and pockets, then the result of the other, in addition to unforeseen expenses, could be the sobs of loved ones and the solemn speeches of colleagues. But in both cases, the situation demanded that a responsible decision be made — and there was by no means enough information for such a decision. Is it really necessary to break the wall, are there other ways? Is it really “to cut without waiting for peritonitis” — well, how can we cut it off, but it will only get worse? How to find out whom to ask, and after asking and even receiving an answer, how to check?

But medicine and plumbing does not exhaust the list of areas that affect us most directly and in which we, by no means being specialists, make decisions and take responsibility for the consequences. How to act in such circumstances?

As for me, in both cases I followed the same principle: firstly, I minimized losses, and secondly, I preferred reversible actions over irreversible ones. And among consultants, I like those who do not look at their watches during the conversation and generally do not demonstrate their extreme employment and demand. I also need a plan — even if it is erroneous, as long as it is intelligible. His absence throws me into a panic. I’d rather amend it later than be left face to face with uncertainty. It is not so much about the work plan, but about the sequence of my own activities. For example, I wrote down in my notebook: 1) go to doctor A, 2) go to doctor B, 3) compare their offers. There were no notes on the pipes, but I made a mental plan anyway. I know that this is not the case for everyone — many prefer spontaneous decisions.

***

For today, both of my stories ended (as far as such stories are generally able to end: that is, until the next time) quite safely. Two small holes were made in the wall, flexible hoses were stretched through them, the tile stands as it stood, the water flows strictly in the places allotted to it, the neighbor no longer comes in. Recent analyzes have shown that the chosen treatment helped, I have everything I need, and I don’t have what I don’t need. But I know for sure that sooner or later I will again have to face a situation where I have to decide something, despite the fact that no Network will give me all the information that I will need for this.

Recently, my friend was indignant: psychotherapeutic methods cannot be fully compared, psychotherapists from different directions give completely non-intersecting explanations and prescriptions on the same occasion! This is indeed so. But the thing is, it’s not just in psychotherapy. From politics to dentistry, different solutions are possible everywhere. But how sometimes you want to have, like at the end of an algebra textbook, one correct answer!.. Perhaps, to come to terms with its absence means to become an adult?