On convenience, faith, and medicine

It has certainly been a while. This is mostly an exercise of jotting down a stream of consciousness after a sermon that really spoke to me and a post-sermon conversation that really sparked some excitement into the mystery of God's plans for us. I apologize in advance for the grammar or syntax; like I said, it has definitely been a while.

                                              *  *  *

Today when I attended my girlfriend's younger sister's church, I was originally somewhat reserved, out of the stark contrast to how my church back home was. Gone were the multi-generational ministries, gone were the multi-ethnic ministries, and gone was the packed worship room facing a functional organ. I found myself in a church that was predominantly Chinese and Korean, almost entirely young adults, in a semi-empty elementary school auditorium with a small worship band on stage. This is by no means to detract from the power of God's work in this church; rather, the differences were simply put, not what I was comfortable in or something that I would choose "out of convenience."

Interestingly, this was the topic that their head pastor decided to tackle this Sunday morning. The scripture being Mark 11:15-19, it describes the story of Jesus returning to Jerusalem, only to see that the area in the great temple that was dedicated for the Gentiles to worship was filled with marketers trying to make a profit. People back in the day had to walk long distances to the temple for worship, and would need to bring along their animals that were going to be used for sacrifice. This was often an arduous journey, and the unfortunate scenario would happen that their sacrifice would obtain a blemish along the way, making it unfit for sacrifice. Thus, for convenience, these marketers would set up shop in the temple to provide unblemished sacrificial animals...at an absurdly marked up price. The apt example that the pastor used was a comparison to how sport stadium food and drink is grossly inflated beyond all reason.  Jesus went stomping through the temple, flipping tables, angrily telling these marketers to leave the temple, for they have "turned the house of prayer for all nations into a den of robbers."

This really resonated with me in the sense that we as a people often look for ways to make things more convenient and opt for the path of least resistance rather than the more difficult, possibly more righteous route. With this in mind, I uncrossed my arms and let down this guard of expectation, and just tried to see what God had in store for my visit here at this church.

                                              *  *  *

During the post-sermon social period, I ended up talking to a young man who originally was interested in the medical field as well, but due to financial and personal circumstance, was not able to immediately pursue it. He instead went to a school associated with the Air Force, and learned to be a pilot instead. He described how he was still interested, and wanted to fly medical missions trips where not only medical specialists were needed, but pilots as well. He described how he flies non-profit flights with a group called Angelflight, which provides a no-cost trip for those disabled or unable to fly regular, commercial airlines due to medical issues or machinery. He told me of a story how one flight was particularly turbulent, and out of concern for his "client", he went back to check to make sure she was okay. It turned out that she was writing him and his fellow co-pilot thank you cards. The messy writing only made that card that much more meaningful: no matter how turbulent or difficult it was to write, their client was immensely grateful for what they were doing for her, and she had to make sure that they knew that she was appreciative.

This really made me re-evaluate where I stood, being a medical student who has, in all honesty, never been in the real world or part of the work force. I have safely placed myself in the "education bubble" and as a result, never needed to think beyond my next test or my next patient. It let me recall how I felt God's calling to pursue medical school. It let me recall the fascination that my fellow Christians had in the young adult bible study small group when I recounted my hospital experiences. And finally, it let me recall how I could glorify God in each and every patient encounter.

I start my family medicine clerkship rotation when I come back from break. After working the surgery work hours, the outpatient setting of family medicine will be a welcome change. More importantly however, it puts me back into the outpatient setting. In my short span of providing patient care up to this point, I have found that many of the most meaningful conversations I've had have been with patients at these outpatient clinics. Away from the bells and whistles, hustle and bustle of the inpatient hospital floors, after closing the clinical exam room door, it is like the whole world has been shut out and it is just me and the patient, able to fully maximize doctor-patient confidentiality. In my conversation with the young pilot, I described how many patients will put down a generic chief complaint, but in reality have many deeper, darker secrets that they wish to disclose, waiting for an open opportunity and open ear to talk about why they're really here. In my shadowing and my own trial and error, my beginning line for taking a history in the outpatient setting is always a variant of "What can I do for you?" or "What do you want to talk about today?" The classic "open-ended question" technique that we learn in medical school may be that opportunity that the patient is waiting for to disclose his domestic abuse, her alcohol addition, or their concern towards a sexually transmitted infection, and are either too ashamed or too frightened to put it down on the entrance questionnaire. I compared this privilege like a "medical confessional" where patients could come to receive advice of how to proceed from someone who will be non-judgmental and sworn to confidentiality. The young pilot told me that upon hearing this, he was even more motivated to pursue some kind of medical training, and that he was extremely excited for what God had in store for me when I returned to being a medical student full time again.

                                              *  *  *

The sermon, coupled with this conversation that I had afterward, really drove home the point that our faith is not about convenience. It is not about checking off another task on the Sunday to-do list; rather, it is to hopefully find ways to integrate your faith into what God has called you to do, regardless of how challenging that may be. I exchanged phone numbers with the young pilot, to keep in touch and to periodically check in and see where God has called each of us in the future. I am excited to hear where God leads him next, and equally excited to see what God has for in store for me in the new year, in the remainder of my M3 year, and the remaining time I have in medical school.

The Conversation

Faint glow reflecting off his glasses.
Caffeine enriched, heart pumping.
Typing away at indiscriminate script.
Old chair swivels, person slumping.

Silence rules over this kingdom.
Day by day turns to night by night.
Interests fading and smiles gone;
Hoping for change but none in sight.

A beep echoes, a sudden noise.
Piques the cortex of stoic boy.
A mere text, oh so late.
Message, be simple: why so coy?

Begging for company, loneliness king,
A duet of words, straight spoken: you free?
A scratch of the head and a contagious yawn;
of all people this time, why ask on me?

The phone is then lifted, a few buttons click.
A number was dialed, a response, no less.
This warranted answer, a must-have reply,
to the question posed, a vocal "Yes."

Reflections on Jiuzhaigou

Some helpful Tibetan lingo:

Response to Za xi de lei (welcome): Za xi de lei xiu

Na chu na ga: I love you

Simo: young lady, pretty lady

Silang: young man, handsome man

Deimo: goodbye

6 word Tibetan prayer: o ma mi bei bi hom

8 word Tibetan prayer: o ma zei mo ye sa lam dei

                My conception of zangzu, or in general Tibetan, culture was definitely much different from what I experienced at Jiuzhaigou. Preconceptions were of a more rowdy, almost Mongol-like pastoralist group, like the Mongol nomads that we attribute to the Huns. I had come into the area with the basic knowledge of Buddhist traditions, values and morals. I already knew much of the information faith-wise, but it was interesting to listen to some of the historical aspects of how certain sects of Buddhism rose to power due to a uniform acceptance starting from the Qing dynasty.

                I was perhaps a little apprehensive when I found out that our tour guide had arranged for us to stay at a zangzu house for dinner. This house is no ordinary zangzu house either, as it had produced 2 houfo, or living buddhas. In other words, this was a house of some of the highest, most respected Buddhist clergy. Being completely foreign to their customs, eating habits, and not to mention language, it was definitely an experience that I will never forget.

                There are many customary actions that are taken before almost every action. Ranging from being welcomed, to before anyone drinks barley wine. When we first arrived at the zangzu house, two strapping Tibetan lads came to us, and hung a yellow hada, a kind of woven scarf, around our necks and welcomed us with the traditional greeting: za xi de lei. Clasping my hands together and bowing slightly, I respond with za xi de lei xiu, which is like accepting/acknowledging their welcome. When we reached the entry way into the house’s main area, we said a traditional 8 word Buddhist prayer, o ma zei mo ye sa lam dei, for peace for the host and for the visits. After the prayer, we headed towards the dining area. In zangzu culture, the women take a subservient role, and as a result are the main servers, and enter the house after all the men have entered the house and have taken their seats at the eating place.

                The eating place is like a true mess hall, as there are many small tables arranged in rows to accommodate as many people as possible, which follows with their communal eating style. There were many various small dishes, ranging from spicy radish, baked potato, to mountain sheep meat and yak meat. The interesting rule was that you could use chopsticks for everything except the meat and rice. For these dishes, you had to use your hands. On a food-related note, the buttered tea is delicious, as is the barley wine. I didn’t think it would be good, but it was a nice pleasant surprise. Barley wine had special connotations associated with it, where customs dictated that if certain rules were broken, the person committing the fault would be expected to down more barley wine. All in all, it was a rowdy dinner experience.

                The place where you sit is also highly defined by your social rank within a family, and in a tribe. Lucky for us, my dad, a family friend, and I, three guys, ended up sitting in the most distinguished seats in the house, which meant we had certain roles to uphold. My dad sat in the eldest brother seat, and was responsible for getting the crowd in uproars. The family friend sat in the second brother seat, and was responsible for dishing out drinking penalties for anyone who wasn’t fully engaged with the festivities. And there was me, in the third brother seat, where my responsibilities will come up soon.

                While we were dining, our hostess continued to introduce various different simos and silangs that came to sing their native highland songs for us. It had a mysterious lull to it, filled with impressive vocal ranges and arias that make even the most distinguished opera singers do a double take. Now comes my responsibilities as third brother; I had to dance with the different zangzu simos while they sang. In other words, I was there to put on a show with them. Barring all senses of shame or embarrassment, I found myself naturally moving and dancing with the simos. Pictures were taken. Laughter was present. It was, after all, a rowdy good time.

                After I had left the zangzu household, we headed toward a large theater, where we were to go watch a cultural show highlighting various Tibetan dances (much like WashU’s Lunar New Year Festival). At the theater, a few girls from a different tour group that were at the same zangzu house as us were also headed to the show, but wanted to get a picture with me. Apparently, when these girls were asked if they saw any silangs they liked, they pointed to me, the dancing third brother. The tour guide that was taking the pictures for them asked me if I was ABC, and when I said yes, he responded that I looked like Wang Leehom. Afterward, we went into the theatre and enjoyed ourselves an elaborate show. So, after feeling like a celebrity and making various Moves like Jagger jokes with my sister, we closed the book on this Tibetan excursion.

Take this note and read it!

This sermon I listened to recently was very convicting to me, and so I have compiled it to a certain extent, in a hope to share with everyone.

Now to preface this, the sermon series the church I go to is currently in is called "Surprised by Joy." This sermon in particular talked about what obstacles we have that hinder us to have Joy. After all, Phillippians 4:4 calls us to rejoice:

⁴ Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 

So what really stops us from being joyful all the time? Life adversity, problems and sorrow, one would respond, get in the way. But the real answer seems a bit intuitive, albeit important to point out. We are unable to be joyful without God. Because of this, this leads us to the book of Nehemiah, where we derive 3 central tenets to remaining joyful in the face of adversity.

1. WHEN YOU WON'T FIGHT: Sometimes it is hard to really hard to motivate oneself to gather up the courage and fight. Nehemiah was rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, and those opposed to him would come and physically threaten them to stop building the wall. Nehemiah then told his men via Nehemiah 4:14, and then armed them all with swords, bows and spears:

Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight...

2. WHEN YOU THINK THE ENEMY IS TOO BIG: The difficulty is just compounded if the adversity is so daunting, that you believe it can't be beat. The sense of being David going in to fight Goliath is intimidating and nerve-racking...minimum. But the idea is to always pick your battles wisely, and not jump in blind, but keep a level head about yourself. Nehemiah continued to build his walls and the enemy continue to harangue him with not threats this time, but cordial invitations to "peace talks." Nehemiah knew that if he went to one of these talks, he would be assassinated. Invitation after invitation, Nehemiah craftily responds with Nehemiah 6:3:

I am carrying on a great project and cannot go down. 

Our great project is the life that God has blessed us with. We are carriers of the will of God, and mirrors of His One and Only Son, Jesus Christ. Our mission and goal are too great to go down on any simple adversity that appears. We must continue to persevere.

3. WHEN YOU SNATCH DEATH OUT OF THE JAWS OF VICTORY: This one originally confused me too, thinking, "shouldn't it be the other way around?" However, the other way around is a good thing. What we tend to do, is overlook our small blessings and focus on the negatives that surround us. We grow to become apathetic and tell ourselves lies in order to "protect ourselves." After some time, Ezra the scribe came and for the first time in many long years, the people were able to hear the Scripture read to them. As Ezra was reading the Word of God and listed out the reasons why people have suffered, people listening started to cry and be filled with sorrow. Nehemiah proclaimed to everyone that being able to listen to Scripture is a blessing, and that them being able to listen to it now, was a sign of God's forgiveness; that God continues to be their God, and that they should focus on that, highlighted in Nehemiah 8:10, one of my favorite verses:

Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength. 

We strive to relook and refresh ourselves with those three verses, Nehemiah 4:14, Nehemiah 6:3, and Nehemiah 8:10, to give us perspective and strength when dealing with, coping with, conquering adversity in life with, of course, the strength of God.

---

What Ken (the lead pastor at my church) recommended us do, was to write up a post-it note or piece of paper, with big bold letters:

TAKE THIS NOTE AND READ IT:

And then underneath, write out the three conditions that stop us from Joy, as well as something that you are personally challenged by.

When you won't fight.

When you think the enemy is too big.

When you snatch death out of the jaws of victory.

When __________________________

Finally, include the three inspirational verses found in Nehemiah that will help us remember:

Nehemiah 4:14 - Remember the LORD, who is great and awesome, and fight.

Nehemiah 6:3 - I am carrying on a great project and cannot go down.

Nehemiah 8:10 - Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.

Tape this to a place you walk by often (a bathroom mirror seems to do well), and constantly remind yourself that God is for you, and be encouraged.

A Day in the Life

I've got someone that's truly close to my heart. She's wonderful to me, sustains me, feeds me, spends time with me. She's all I've known, and frankly, all I want to know. We've gotten life down to pretty much a routine. She leaves early in the morning for work, and generally doesn't return until dinner time. I stay home, take care of some housekeeping issues, get some exercise on the treadmill, perhaps toss in a nap in on my more lethargic days.

I haven't heard from my family in a while, ever since my brothers and sisters and I grew up of age, we all chased love and before you knew it, we were all separated. The last sibling I saw was my dear youngest sister, she went home with a cute freckled red-headed boy. I could tell she was somewhat reserved at first, but I'm sure she's warmed up to him by now. After all, it's been nearly 2-3 years now since I've seen any of them. I wonder how they're doing sometimes. I sometimes miss them, but all in all I can't complain: I live a simple life, and I have her.

Oftentimes she'll just sit next to me, and speak to me. Whenever I feel like I have her attention, I try to showcase something special that I did that day. Maybe I finally ran a new record distance on the treadmill, maybe I cleaned up the mess around the house, maybe I just act cute so that she'll gush over me. At times like these she'll smile at me sweetly, hold and caress me ever so gently, and when I'm really lucky, she'll sing for me. That feeling of security, that warmth, that touch. I find myself curling up and falling into a blissful sleep with her smiling at me. It's unforgettable.

Things have never always been peachy, though. At times when she is sad, I feel helpless and minuscule. I am never good at talking about these difficult times, and I sometimes feel that she thinks that I never understand her. It gets particularly bad when she gets busy. She'll look at me sadly, and then turn to her computer or her large stack of papers, all covered with unreadable (to me anyway) scribbles of all sorts of colors. She had a period where she'd pick at her own hair, another time just sleep and not wake up, like her only method of escape from all of her stress and problems was to sleep.

Tonight, however, she seems at peace, smiling as she falls asleep. If only I could ever snuggle next to her. Alas, I will never know this feeling, as I sit peering longingly at her...

...from behind my glass hamster cage.

Con * sci * ous * ness

Before I get into the heart of this post, I want to preface it with a confession. As a devout, actively practicing follower of Christ, the notion of me being imperfect is very known to me. In fact, through all the religion-centered renewal programs, church-sponsored spiritual challenges, and even just personal tests of discipline and quests of self-improvement in my more secular days have revealed to me the brutal truth: My life is far from ideal.  What's worse...is that compounded onto that, is the absolute need for me to never wear my struggles on my face, never to impose others with my problems, and only with those closest to me and God do I ever divulge the problems that haunt me (My dear readers, you are getting an insight into a normally very "strong" person). The very nature of this post will be marked by streams of my consciousness. Breaks by which will be demarcated by:

*  *  *

Very few people ever really realize what is truly going on in my life. This can be attributed to two reasons. One, many just don't care. Two, they don't know what to do even if it were to happen, and I choose to not burden them with the problem. The second group of people may get snapshots, perhaps mere glimpses of the reality that I face on an everyday basis. To that end, the problems that I keep muffled inside, are shoved deep into the subconscious crevasses behind the confident (sometimes over-confident and over-bearing) facade that so many are accustomed to. This faulty system of coping has only resulted in occasions in which my mood is..."off." It is like trying to keep all of those simmering, toxic fumes in a bubble that is myself. The bubble is nowhere near strong enough to hold everything in. Sometimes, I cave under the pressure the results are not pretty; I lash out, I snap, I displace my emotions from whatever is eating at me onto someone else. This only tends to alienate people more, which "helps" build my next bubble: this time stronger, colder, only to contain even more venomous thoughts and things. This vicious cycle becomes brutally apparent when it seems like the very support group that got you out of a mess, is part of the very cause of the next problem. It is by no means fair, as many of the people, who end up being on the receiving end of perhaps one of my fits, have no idea what is going on, and at that point in time inherently start judging me as someone of either poor character, or just unpleasant to be around--not their fault, and certainly understandable.

*  *  *

I recently thought deeper into the almost mindless lyrics of a popular 90's song, made viral via a Pepsi MAX commercial. That's right, Haddaway's 1993 hit What is Love. The chorus is unmistakably recognizable: "What is love? Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more." I don't want to wax philosophical, so I'll cut to the chase. The emotion of love (through a collection of definitions heard from sermons, friends, sagely advice, wiki...etc.) is characterized by a degree of sacrifice, a willingness to compromise, and a trust of another person to not hurt you in the openly vulnerable state to which you expose yourself. Cheese aside, this got me onto just how powerful Jesus' love is for us really is. His crucifixion was the perfect sacrifice. God the Father proposed a divine compromise in sending us Jesus. He to this day and for ever and ever shows unlimited forgiveness and Grace to us. Jesus the Son, had the ultimate trust in His Father, and you can't get more vulnerable than going from omnipotent, omniscient God in Trinity, to being born into human flesh, to walk and suffer in the broken world we live in. As it calls us to love the same way Jesus loves us, how can we ever settle for less? How silly must we be?

*  *  *

I have been told before that it is within human nature to protect oneself and each defensive mechanism is characterized by a degree of expense for either oneself or others. In our society, it is generally considered that those defensive mechanisms that protect oneself at the great expense of others is not only selfish, but almost unthinkable. Yet, the opposite, displayed via altruism is viewed as equally an anomaly. To come back to my own personal example, I certainly am not proud of lashing out, but similarly, in doing random acts of kindness, I have been asked before, "What is it that you want? Why are you doing this?" Intentions become tangled, misunderstandings prevalent. Results have often proven to a similar effect; granted, the random acts of kindness generally turn out better, but it's definitely no lie when I say that kind of work is draining.

*  *  *

I am tired and must rest. As my mind slowly stops from its unrelenting races, I shall take my pit stop here. Good night.

What does it mean, to be an extrovert?  Does it mean you like talking?  Does it mean you're attention seeking? Does it mean you derive happiness from being around others?  Does it mean you like going out?  Or is it a little bit of all of the above?

From my Myers-Briggs tests, the one thing that truly stands out above all else, is the fact that there is no introverted aspect to my personality.  I am (I've taken the Myers-Briggs at like 3 different stages of my life) 100% Extroverted.  That being said, I don't always showcase those stereotypical extroverted signs, nor am I usually the absolute most extroverted individual at any given point in time.

So why or how am I 100% E then?  The question stems upon how Myers-Briggs defines extroverted, and how that plays into my personality.  From their scale, I exhibit all the aspects or signs of extroversion, however, In reality, I actually show each of these signs to a lesser extent than other people, who may only exhibit 1 or 2 out of...let's say 4 traits.  This way, they are 50% E, but those two traits they may have, are very apparent.

This came up one day when I sat at a big dinner with some people that I knew.  I did not feel any obligation to get up and talk to everyone; in fact, I felt happy for once that I was in the background, just listening and observing, only really popping into conversation when I truly felt like I had something to contribute.

What's interesting is that ever since I've made it into med school, I've found myself in a role where I don't talk nearly as much as maybe some people remember me.  I find myself in a situation in which I don't know the solution.  I am more than confident that most people who know me in the medical school either have seen my argumentative, explosive side, and hence write me off as an asshole.  Albeit, I call myself that all the time, to have it be a general sentiment is, well, a whole other story.  I find myself dealing with said phenomenon by simply staying silent, biting my tongue when I feel the urge to snap at someone.  Of course, this usually just results in me sitting and listening, rather than contributing.  Those people who don't understand me (which is most, let's be honest), will just take it as me being judgy and having nothing really important to add to the conversation, and thus, ignore me altogether.

So, to bring this conversation full circle, what do you do when you're an extrovert that no one appreciates, or cares to talk to?

To this end, I've found myself doing better in 1 on 1 conversations, where the chance of someone misunderstanding me or me offending someone to be...well, smaller.  Second chances are a treasure to be cherished, as forgiveness is not easy to come by.

Med school, you have taught me plenty.