“Inner world of man, this is my world”

Jörg Büchel sees everyone. So does Urs, who stands in front of the elevators in the cantonal hospital of Graubünden half a week and guides patients and visitors. Volunteers, Büchel explains. They don’t get paid, but they have a duty in return. “Hi Urs, good, I’m back. How are you?” Büchel asked in a low voice. Urs begins to say that he is sick, that it is very difficult, but that he does not know anything else. Büchel is listening. At one point the priest says: “And now you are done. This is good.”

The way you approach a person and start a conversation is incredible.
You must be able to speak out of the air, otherwise it won’t work. But just small talk is terrible. I’m in pain.

My cousin passed away recently. In his final weeks, he spoke extensively with the hospital chaplain, even though he had already left the church.
Some people have reservations and think that we ministers should start right away with religion. But we will not find it. Subjects are determined by the patient. We listen and absorb what comes. We also ask questions, but listening is much more important.

Can we still listen?
Nowadays, everything has to be very fast and functional. Pastors are the last idiots allowed to be there and pass the time. We do not need to have worked on a program in the evening, you cannot do it at all with this study. We don’t document anything either.

Are you even allowed to do this?
I write myself two keywords to remember what we’re talking about. But everything falls apart when the patient leaves the hospital. Nothing is hidden. The moment matters.

We interrupt the conversation. The priest has to take a patient. Rita regularly comes to the hospital for treatment. Father Büchel picks him up from the cafeteria and takes him to register. Rita has dementia and lives in a nursing home. Büchel says hospital visits are like coming home for him. The old woman ties her arm to Büchel, Büchel takes his hand, the two chat like old friends. Rita compliments the pastor, but at the same time, “You’re not always so serious!” she says, then smiles and asks: “Did I see nonsense again?” Büchel helps Rita sit on the bed, takes off her shoes, hands her over to the nurses and promises to pick her up again. Such a service is more of an exception. A good relationship developed between the two over time.

How else do you work?
I go from room to room as best I can. And just ask. I do not know anything.

Visiting someone with a broken leg?
Perhaps the patient has problems in partnership. Matters aren’t always the reason patients come here. There are completely different loads. We are there for them too. This is the difference between a doctor or a therapist. We are open and we are not advancing in a targeted manner. The first thing is to build trust. For me, the beginning is a difficult moment.

How do you start?
I ask how the patients are doing and whether they are satisfied with the care. I only learn what patients tell me. I don’t know the file. Sometimes I also have a doctor’s consultation and help to understand and classify everything.

Do doctors do too little or do they have no time?
Doctors are doing very well right now. But yes, sometimes they don’t have much time and often the big questions only come up later.

Is there a question that worries many patients?
Yes, suicide is a taboo subject. Many patients want to talk about it. When they say this to the doctor or nurse, all the alarm lights come on. They say I can handle it. Most patients want to say that they are borderline with the load. It’s not just about pain. The larger motive is that they are addicted and a burden to others.

Are you talking about euthanasia?
Yes. It is important for me as a society to learn that this is a problem and also an option for many people.

Who is mainly concerned with this?
Usually older people who, despite all the medication, can no longer expect much. People want to have options so they can choose. Otherwise, you will fall victim to philanthropists and it will feel bad. Palliative care is another option that not many people know about.

Father Büchel wants to see a patient he had visited the previous day. It’s a special occasion. A man in his late 70s who actually has nothing. The body is healthy. But head! Delirium, an acute state of confusion, is suspected. Büchel knocks on the door and enters the room. The man is sitting at the table with a puzzle book in front of him. The situation is hopeless, he has nothing, but he wants to die. “You want to die, but that’s not enough,” Büchel says. The patient holds his head: “Everything is just confused.” He didn’t deserve this. The man talks about what he has accomplished, how important his job is, how big his car is. Material follows material. Büchel interrupts: “But most importantly, your wife!” The man says, “Oh yeah, that’s great.” You have thousands of questions for these patients: How does the confusion manifest itself? Wouldn’t he prefer to go for a walk outside? Why can’t he be home? It’s hard to hold back. Buchel does it. It’s not his job to talk about the diagnosis. The phone is ringing. “My daughter,” says the man. “Thanks for the interview,” Büchel says. “I’m glad you’re there” sick.

Do you also have patients that you visit for longer periods of time?
It is usually cleaned in one go. We are there before the relatives mobilize and come to the hospital. But if anything happens, we’ll stay tuned. I am currently visiting a patient more often. East Ukrainian and wounded. Now he hears from afar how his hometown was bombed. This is terrible. He wonders where to go next.

How do you deal with so much pain and lamentation every day?
Just other people. If I am affected, it will affect me too. I can empathize well, but I don’t take it with me. I need to be free for the next patient. I also have the ability to forget. (laughs)

When will you reach your limits?
Suicide in youth. I looked at two people who threw themselves in front of the train and lost both legs. Or it affects me when kids have accidents. There are no words to describe the pain that parents go through. To endure this pain, exhausted.

Büchel is the addressee everywhere. In the same hospital corridor. And then you realize why a pastor doesn’t have a date, but is open to any conversation. A man is talking to her. He has some band-aids on the back of his hands. He’s infected, but he can go home today. The priest and the man met for the first time last week. At the memorial service for parents who lost their children to suicide. Büchel was there as pastor. Because the man took his 16-year-old son’s own life. Now she’s talking about him in the hospital corridor. Büchel listens and never conveys to his interlocutor that he should continue. There is no time in Büchel. Finally, the pastor thanks you for the interview.

These kinds of issues are intense every day. Why did you become a priest?
i can’t do anything else (laughs). I had many problems when I was younger and I dealt with them. The inner world of man, here is my world. There is so much wealth and so much pain at the same time. I’ve never been keen on material things, I can’t even drive, I don’t care. I like to go where things get personal, unstable, hurt, and improvements are possible.

Büchel goes to pick up Rita again. The old woman smiles when she sees the priest. “Okay, take me!” Rita hangs out again, the two slowly making their way towards the exit.

Names have been changed to protect individuals.