Chaplains listen to patients’ stories and attempt to link the patient’s experience of illness with the patient’s construction of faith. It is a gift to the chaplain’s understanding of the task when the patient themself possesses both the reflective capacity and the theological/philosophical literacy to articulate such a linkage. The Reluctant Patient stands in this tradition of writing, of which Anne Oakley’s Fracture remains for me the pre-eminent offering. Ian Wallis is a former parish priest and theological educator who continues to live with the debilitating effects of a chronic heart condition. His book explores the struggle to integrate an experience of illness and a stance of faith whilst remaining honest to both. The book charts the phenomenology of patienthood and the aftermath of hospitalization. Chaplains will recognize themes of shock, disruption, alienation, disempowerment, waiting, ambivalence towards medicine, uncertainty, guilt, and depression. Less familiar to those of us who are based in institutions, is the continuing struggle for rehabilitation. Wallis speaks of the “lifelines” of books, music and DVDs; and of the significance of exercising choice – in his case, defiantly walking his dog. Above all, he stresses the importance of others in helping to maintain the fabric of normality and in offering small acts of kindness and companionship. This emphasis on relationship is at the heart of the book: “the undeclared sacraments of human encounter”. The negative experience of impersonality during a consultant’s ward round contrasts with the attentiveness of Wallis’ GP, or the capacity of the NHS 24 telephonist to be present to her anxious caller. Indeed, Wallis’ entire model of health has relationship at its core. “We need others to be fully, authentically ourselves”; and we can only access 236 Review © Equinox Publishing Ltd 2015 relationship by “daring to swim in the common sea of our humanity”. This will involve embracing all our life experiences, including illness. Wallis’ written style takes some negotiating. The book too often feels like a sermon or a lecture; from the pedagogical tone (e.g. “we would do well to attend to trust’s ecstatic feet” – his italics); to the contrivance of extended metaphor (e.g. the sub-chapter on “waiting gardens”); and some heavy-handed hyperbolic humour (e.g. the ambulance journey “felt like a cross-country rally”, the wheelchair journey “running the gauntlet past the clashing jaws of an elevator”). For all this, I was moved by the narrative, especially when Wallis articulates an existential theology that clearly arises from authentic engagement with his illness. The book is subtitled, “A Journey of Trust”. For Wallis, trust is the pre-requisite for relationship: “an innate capacity to transcend self through openness and vulnerability exposing us to the possibility of encounter.” Such encounter may be with God: “Trust finds its ultimate expression in a readiness to risk all we are to all who God is … without knowing whether such a God exists beyond the limits of our imaginations”. As with many experiential accounts, The Reluctant Patient will be of most use to those least familiar with pastoral issues in institutional healthcare; but it also offers some profound insights, even for the most experienced Chaplains. ~ Revd Martin Kerry, Health & Social Care Chaplaincy

I would recommend this book to all healthcare professionals to give them an insight into what is happening to patients beyond the scalpels and drugs. Anyone with pastoral responsibility would find it helpful to be reminded how positive outcomes can come from human frailty. Anyone who has been seriously ill would find in Mr Wallis a life and faith affirming companion on their journey. ~ Graham Cook, Reform Mag Dec/Jan 2014

This is a delightful book:- deeply personal, highly reflective and full of thoughtful insight. Anyone who has ever been a ‘patient’ will be able to identify with Ian Wallis’ pertinent observations; and anyone who cares for patients would benefit from reading what he has to say. I enjoyed his wry humour, searing honesty and theological profundity, (especially on the importance of ‘trust’ and meaning of ‘identity’). He has done for those who are ill what C S Lewis did for the bereaved in ‘A Grief Observed’, and this little work may well become a classic of its kind. ~ Bishop James Newcome, (Bishop of Carlisle and Church of England Lead Bishop on Health Care)

He may be a reluctant patient, but Ian Wallis is also a wise, well-humoured and knowledgeable one. He proves a trustworthy guide to the trials and tribulations - and the strange gifts, if we will - of illness, which most of us will suffer at one time or the other (if not our own, then certainly someone else's). But more than this, Ian’s acutely observed and humorously described experience of illness has much to teach all of us, healthy or sick (and he shows that this is only a matter of degree or perspective), about a fundamental attitude to living, one marked by inquisitiveness, courage, creativity and humility, in equal measure. This reader, for one, is grateful for the invitation to share something of this patient exploration of human frailty and its surprising potential for glory. ~ Nicola Slee, (Theologian, author and poet)

In The Reluctant Patient, Ian Wallis challenges us with a question: Can illness create a space capable of enriching our lives as a whole? He describes the process of being ill - the sense of being invaded by an unwelcome visitor, and the inconvenience of being ill when there are better things to do - with moments of wry humour enlivening the catalogue of events. His gradual acceptance of his status (or lack of it) as a patient leads him to reflect on the value of waiting as a positive time, a gift to oneself when one can learn the art of abiding - paying attention to the present moment instead of rushing onto the next thing. He came to an understanding of faith as the capacity to relate beyond our immediate circumstances to the mystery sustaining all life - what some of us call God. And he also discovered what he describes as 'the undeclared sacraments of human encounter', in the recognition of the humanity behind the professional masks, the compassion of carers and friends willing to share the pain without self-indulgence or histrionics. Ian's answer to the question lies in his sense of how a growing trust in relationships personal and professional enriches all our experience, enables us to become more integrated (which is the essence of wholeness) and enhances our appreciation of the gift of life. As survivor from a less dramatic life-threatening illness, I found much that resonated with my own experience in what Ian has written, and I commend it. ~ Ann Lewin, (Poet and spiritual writer)