The world of Tzu Chi January 2020 (Vol.118)

TZU CHI 118 43 umanistic Medicine Translated by Lim Wen Xin Photograph by Jiang Pei-ru Source: Taiwan Tzu Chi Medical & Nursing Care (Vol. 173) Sparing a ought for Self-care A major illness in 2012 compelled me to reconsider the meaning of life. Many of us healthcare personnel tend to develop a deep sense of obligation to our patients. We are constantly engaged in a tug-of-war with the Grim Reaper over our patients’ survival, striving with all our might to shield them from the claws of death and bring a ray of hope to their lives.As we save patient after patient from the brink of death, we tend to inadvertently neglect our own health, only realizing that self- care is as important as caring for our patients when we find ourselves inhabiting both sides of the healthcare divide at once, as a doctor who is now also a patient. Life is as unpredictable as it is finite. Just as all lives are destined to come to an end, no one is spared from afflictions. I have served nearly four decades in the healthcare industry, starting my medical career in the field of gastrointestinal surgerybeforemovingon toorgan transplantation. Performing hours-long marathon surgeries is part and parcel of my line of work – challenging tests of endurance that range from at least six hours for kidney transplants to an average of 12 hours for liver transplants. These prolonged operations, coupled with the demands of my routine duties, including conducting medical consultations and ward rounds, teaching and lecturing, as well as the frequent loss of appetite and sleep due to the stressful workload, collectively take a strenuous toll on my well-being. When I turned 54, my health deteriorated I realized the importance of caring for my own well-being whilst caring for others, for a healthy body grants me physical and mental strength to serve my patients. drastically. I became prone to bouts of fatigue and shortness of breath. I had cause for concern owing to my family history of hypertension. Furthermore, my mother succumbed to cardiovascular disease. Erring on the side of caution, I consulted a cardiologist to evaluate my health status and underwent a series of tests, including a blood test, an electrocardiogram (ECG, a test that assesses heart function by measuring its electrical activity), a cardiac ultrasound scan and a CT scan. The results revealed an elevated liver function index, indicating abnormal liver function. I was diagnosed with hepatitis C. The diagnosis came as a rude awakening as I was confronted with the inevitability of my own mortality. Before I knew it, the reverence and authority I commanded in my pristine white doctor’s coat dissipated as soon as I changed into a hospital gown, evoking in me instead disorienting feelings of powerlessness, helplessness and fear in my new identity as a patient. I had never expected such a life- changing transition, along with shifts in status, psychological state and role, to be encapsulated in an act as brief as a change of attire. From doctor to patient Experiencing life as a patient had enabled me to progress emotionally beyond merely sympathizing with the ill from a distance to fostering a deeper sense of empathy for their suffering. The limitations of my illness had also