Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Right and left.

Doing the Right thing requires one to make a choice. Sometimes this is hard. And it is in this choice, where we choose to be who we stand for, who we become.

To be this is to not be that, to do this is to not do that. Not to do anything at all, to pretend to stand in the grey area, is to decide not to do the Right thing, anyways. Nobody likes to know that in actual fact, there is no middle ground. Worse than making the decision to do the wrong thing, is perhaps being indifferent to making a decision at all.

I remember being very disappointed that day. Angry too.

We, second-year medical students, were supposed to attend a Suicide Awareness talk and only half my cohort’s medical students showed up. Fewer paid attention. While the speaker went on to tell us about the crucial ways to stop someone’s suicide, the person in front of me fixated his eyes on his lap-top, playing a blood-splattering battle game to kill as many people as he could on his virtual quest.

Of all ironies.

Two days ago, our Dean organized another talk for us to learn about how to counsel smokers and help them gain a new lease of life from the addiction. Smoking is the most preventable cause of death in the world, and accounts for our top four causes of death in Singapore.

The talk spanned over two days, each lasting about 3 hours. On the first day, fewer than 40 of us showed up. In a cohort of 259, that makes up to less than 15%. On the second day, it was announced that attendance would be taken. Twice as many showed up, half left during the break.

I found the talk very insightful. Especially the last part.

It’s true. The talk was badly timed. We have exams in less than 2 weeks, and we are all short of time. Deep within me, I wanted to use that time to hit the books, but I remembered what I had learnt at church last Sunday, what had moved me to tears in my seat and stirred something deep within me- that in this world, there is no middle ground.

In the tiniest decisions that we make, we are either for or against, we are principled or not, and we choose to do the Right thing… or not. Every decision or compromise we make, no matter how small, adds to or takes away from who we are, who we become. Every decision counts.

I rationalized it in my head. No point getting angry or sad- it’s just the way things are, I rationalized. It was heartening to see my closest friends attending the talk. We had not discussed whether we would show up- we all just did. We were intimate friends because we shared the same values. It was the Right thing to do, to show respect to the doctors who had painstakingly planned the talk, to show humility in wanting to learn, to show self-restraint in studying in trying to be a better doctor. Note the trying.

And when I saw them, I thought- this is what cements Real Friends together- a mutual spurring of one another to do Right things, in love.

But deep inside I was aching, still. I wish I could have done something, made others see that the topic on smoking, and counseling wasn’t just about common sense- that there is a reason why so many people complain about how doctors lack compassion, lack understanding. There is a complex psyche behind each addiction, and every addiction has a Story behind it. It’s never just another smoker. We know too much, and yet too little, to be Good doctors.

If I had organised an event to raise awareness about eating disorders and depression in my faculty, I wondered what the turn-out would be like. I shuddered at the thought.

You moved me to tears when you did what you did.

Before the talk on the second day, we all attended our lectures. The lecture theatre was packed- because the topics were examinable. One lecture in between was about relating to patients and showing empathy to them. It was then that the lecture theatre grew noisy, and people walked out.

I ached inside. So this is the kind of doctors we become.

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, you walked down to the podium, and took the mike from the lecturer. You stunned everyone. You even stunned the lecturer.

“Hi everyone, I just have something to say.”

Dead silence. Everyone was shocked.

You went on. “I just have something to share. You know last week I went to the hospital because my cousin was very unwell. Being born prematurely, he has been ill for most of his life. My Uncle and Aunty were worried sick about his present condition, and the doctor just…”

As you went on, we pieced your story together- the doctor wasn’t mean, or bad even. Just, cold, distant- and frighteningly real.

So this is the kind of doctors we become?

You continued, “… Two months ago, my other Uncle passed away. We were devastated, but how was the news broken to my aunt? Is this the kind of doctors we want to be? I know this lecture on exercising empathy sounds very common-sensical and maybe even useless, but I think if we all kept quiet, exercised a bit of humilty, we would all have something to learn. Yup, that’s all I wanted to say, heh.”

You won everyone over.

I was the first one to clap and cheer for you. Who but you would have done that?

Sure there were people like myself who would have thought of that. But you were different. You stepped out, you made a choice, a decision, you put yourself on the line, risked being thought of as preachy, silly or attention-seeking, to say and to do the right thing.

Everybody listened. Everybody was won over. Everybody was moved, because you were so genuine, sincere. You did the Right thing.

You made me cry, you know that?

Last year we became friends because you approached me for a copy of Kitesong and even wanted to join me for my mission trip to India. We became friends because on our second encounter, I was the first one in school to confront you about the depression I had sensed in you despite your cheerful demeanour- you said no one else noticed. You had lost weight and skipped school some days. You asked me about God, who He was, how He changed my life, and I told you. I told you everything. And within a year, you have transformed yourself. Your broad, muscular frame, a far cry from the wisp of a boy you were a year ago, mirrors your strengthened faith in life, in God and yourself.

Most times the Right thing to do isn’t easy. Sometimes, it’s not even our obligation- after all, you didn’t have to do what you did. Surely, you must have thought, that there would be some people who would think what you did was laughable, attention-seeking, out-of-line, even. Even for myself, I have had someone say to my face, to my face that’s right, that what I do, this helping-people-thing, was nothing else but self-glorifying.

I have learnt, that when we step out to do the things we believe in, the right things, we risk mockery. Yet, it is still worth it. The Right thing is always worth it.

And you did it anyway. I salute you.

During the talk on the second day, we watched part of the movie “Patch Adams”, a movie that makes me cry buckets every time. Patch was a clinically depressed person on the verge of suicide who decided to become a medical doctor after discharging himself from a mental institution. He exuded love, compassion and most importantly, he remembered people’s names.

Names are so important. Sure, we could always have a good relationship with people around us, people whose faces we see ever so often but can't place a name on, such as our patients, peers even. But have you seen the way a person lights up when you do remember? You are saying to the other person that more than a face in the crowd, he is someone whose identity you took the effort to remember- because it mattered enough to you. That is what’s in a name. Everything.

How much love do we have for the people around us, to make the kind of decisions that reflect that sort of love?

It takes effort to do the Right thing. It is a conscious choice, and it may be at times sacrificial. Remembering people’s names and birthdays takes effort and time, humbling yourself to attend a talk means taking up already scarce study time, doing what you believe in sometimes results in people throwing mud in your face.

It hardly seems worth arguing about- weighing a talk against studying- but it is these small decisions which we make which make us the man or woman we become. No one sells their souls from the start- it always started with small compromises from doing the Right thing.

It’s worth it. You showed me that it is all worth it. You did what I didn’t do because deep down inside, I was scared. Your impulse and courage to step out, sincerity to impact others, and sense of righteousness moved me to tears. I salute you.

Later that day, you sent me a message:

“ You have been one of my greatest inspirations to who I am today.”

You too, friend. You too.

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