江天樓閣思悄然
月光如鏡水映天
漁舟長笛應猶在
風景依稀勝人間
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Friday, November 22, 2013
Institutionalization is a kind of Disease.
Do you believe in dreams?
Actually, my dreams are filled with metaphor. Since when did all these begin?
The furthest one I can remember is about my mom. One night I saw her standing far away from me, even so, her face was so clear that I could see every detail. Between us was a transparent wall of time, I was not able to come forward anymore. She was there, hands on the wall, trying to speak. I saw her lips moving but I couldn't hear anything. Suddenly I realised that, those perished ones, they were sealed in the elapsed time forever, just like crystals. Once you lost them, you lost them forever.
Then in another dream, I went back to my primary school age. I met someone in class, thinking, Oh no, this is not correct, he is not my primary school classmate, I didn't meet him until middle school! Later it came the time of taking graduation photo. I was late. When I arrived, everyone had already stood in row, on railroad tracks. I stopped to pick off some flowers besides the rails, but to my surprise, these flowers are made of colourful stone!
At the crack of dawn, I passed a window which had light in it, saw a daily living scene of my sister and her man. Someone was chasing me. I just kept running, after a long way I reached the riverside and there were boats mooring side by side along the river. I jumped from one boat to another, finally came to the another of the river. A man was waiting for me there. He reached out one hand to hold me while I jumped down from the last boat. No! I gave an outcry. You have a pistol in the other hand! The man withdrew his hand, aiming straight at my back.
I was browbeat into closing my mouth by a green snake, unwillingly. Well, just pretend to obey it for the moment, but the truth must be told, I thought. Suddenly, that green snake appeared from the brick wall and wrapped around my neck. I was suffocated and forced to surrender. Later, I managed to cage the snake into a container, and went to seek help from others. But when I came back, one colleague had released the captured snake.
After Nan died in the poultry plant fire, I dreamed of the fire scene the other day. In that dream, I was there, in the workroom, when the world fell into darkness suddenly. I dreamed of the closed door, I saw people rushing around in fear, I felt the desperation-the desperation I could never forget, the desperation I would never forgive.
In a delivery room, I was under epidural anaesthesia. The midwife didn't wear gloves. How can you touch me without wearing gloves? I protested aloud. But it seemed that she didn't hear me. Soon the baby was put into the incubator. Two men were leaning on the incubator, smoking cigarettes. You can't smoke in front of my baby! I said. One man said sorry and left, but the other said: There is a little left-I'll finish it soon. I was so angry on hearing this.
Another day, I was climbing a steep hill. There was a little boy climbing in front of me, and that was my kid. He ascended so fast that soon I was left behind. Hey, kid, wait for mom! Don't go too fast. I called out. He didn't stop for me. Then he reached the hill, disappeared.
A young woman was about to fell from a high place. There were two group of people holding cushions to save her life, and I was in one group. I was looking up anxiously, hoping she would fell onto the cushion I was holding so she could survive, as well as fearing that we could not bear the impact once she fell. While I was waiting, she felt facing up the sky, gracefully, not towards any of the two cushions. I closed my eyes and clapped my ears with the ground, not bearing to hear the crash.
In another dream, I heard Jesus saying, God is love. I was not surprised at knowing that he had always lived as a mortal. But, God is love, this faith was so strong that it made him eternal.
Actually, my dreams are filled with metaphor. Since when did all these begin?
The furthest one I can remember is about my mom. One night I saw her standing far away from me, even so, her face was so clear that I could see every detail. Between us was a transparent wall of time, I was not able to come forward anymore. She was there, hands on the wall, trying to speak. I saw her lips moving but I couldn't hear anything. Suddenly I realised that, those perished ones, they were sealed in the elapsed time forever, just like crystals. Once you lost them, you lost them forever.
Then in another dream, I went back to my primary school age. I met someone in class, thinking, Oh no, this is not correct, he is not my primary school classmate, I didn't meet him until middle school! Later it came the time of taking graduation photo. I was late. When I arrived, everyone had already stood in row, on railroad tracks. I stopped to pick off some flowers besides the rails, but to my surprise, these flowers are made of colourful stone!
At the crack of dawn, I passed a window which had light in it, saw a daily living scene of my sister and her man. Someone was chasing me. I just kept running, after a long way I reached the riverside and there were boats mooring side by side along the river. I jumped from one boat to another, finally came to the another of the river. A man was waiting for me there. He reached out one hand to hold me while I jumped down from the last boat. No! I gave an outcry. You have a pistol in the other hand! The man withdrew his hand, aiming straight at my back.
I was browbeat into closing my mouth by a green snake, unwillingly. Well, just pretend to obey it for the moment, but the truth must be told, I thought. Suddenly, that green snake appeared from the brick wall and wrapped around my neck. I was suffocated and forced to surrender. Later, I managed to cage the snake into a container, and went to seek help from others. But when I came back, one colleague had released the captured snake.
After Nan died in the poultry plant fire, I dreamed of the fire scene the other day. In that dream, I was there, in the workroom, when the world fell into darkness suddenly. I dreamed of the closed door, I saw people rushing around in fear, I felt the desperation-the desperation I could never forget, the desperation I would never forgive.
In a delivery room, I was under epidural anaesthesia. The midwife didn't wear gloves. How can you touch me without wearing gloves? I protested aloud. But it seemed that she didn't hear me. Soon the baby was put into the incubator. Two men were leaning on the incubator, smoking cigarettes. You can't smoke in front of my baby! I said. One man said sorry and left, but the other said: There is a little left-I'll finish it soon. I was so angry on hearing this.
Another day, I was climbing a steep hill. There was a little boy climbing in front of me, and that was my kid. He ascended so fast that soon I was left behind. Hey, kid, wait for mom! Don't go too fast. I called out. He didn't stop for me. Then he reached the hill, disappeared.
A young woman was about to fell from a high place. There were two group of people holding cushions to save her life, and I was in one group. I was looking up anxiously, hoping she would fell onto the cushion I was holding so she could survive, as well as fearing that we could not bear the impact once she fell. While I was waiting, she felt facing up the sky, gracefully, not towards any of the two cushions. I closed my eyes and clapped my ears with the ground, not bearing to hear the crash.
In another dream, I heard Jesus saying, God is love. I was not surprised at knowing that he had always lived as a mortal. But, God is love, this faith was so strong that it made him eternal.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Driving into American History, 2
Actually, my California trip is part of my journey which I called "Into the West", because apart from driving by myself in the south California area, it also included the group tour around the vast intermountain region, Rocky mountains and great plains. Here I'll just record the part that reminded me of something in American history.
In the first a few days, I stayed in San Diego. As the birth place of California, San Diego still has a strong Spanish colonial atmosphere, which can be seen from those mediterranean-style buildings. After spending hours lingering along the seashore and passing the long-stretched naval base several times, I went to visit the USS Midway. If you have ever watch the drama Miss Saigon, you can imagine the scene that the helicopter took off from the U.S. embassy and flew towards this aircraft, after The Last Night of the World. Yes, Midway is the one performed the task Operation Frequent Wind in 1975. It was also sent to Jeju Island in Kwangju Massacre and served in the Persian Gulf War in 1991. Now all the dust of all the events has settled, Midway is at its anchor by the shore and has become part of the city's aerial view, like a retired veteran. When the kids looking around this giant with curiosity, they may not be able to feel the sorrow of parting and fear of death of those people who once boarded it. Hopefully, they would never have to experience that kind of feeling, and this is exactly the aim of attempt for our generation.
Then we spent three days on the notorious California State Route 1, and arrived San Francisco Bay in the evening, dust covered and exhausted. After a refreshing shower, we went to China Town to fill our stomachs. The moment I open the door of the car, a nasty smell made me wrinkled up my nose, then I noticed the sewage and garbage on the street. The empty stomachs urged us to move on, so we walked in a restaurant, ordered and waited for dinner. Two young men and one young woman seated around another table, talking in English with very good accent. The older young man was trying to analyse some situation for the other two, and giving them some directions. They were talking with fluent English, but their way of thinking and dealing with people was typically Chinese, so I thought that they should be Chinese descendants. Which generation of immigrants were they? I didn't know. But the feeling was that the history of Chinese migration appeared in an appreciable way here and now. Again, I found myself get lost in time. From my own experience of life, I can fully understand how the first generation immigrants work hard to make a living as aliens-no matter what kind of job they do, they have to support the family while trying to accommodate themselves into a new environment. But I am baffled why after all these years, the Chinatown area is still filled with sewage and garbage, even the whole San Francisco has been reshaped once and again after the 1906 and 1989 earthquakes? What is the meaning of life if you have to live in the same environment generation after generation?
During the group trip, the greatest thing for me was having the chance to see some sites related to native Americans, such as Cheyenne, Dakota and the Sioux, Little Big Horn. The tribes involved here were mainly those who once inhabited the Great Plains. While talking with an native American in the Crazy Horse museum, I was moved by his saying"Our ancestors were arose from this continent, so do we. Native Americans will be guardians of this land as long as anyone of us still alive." Many people just see the westerners' spreading on the new continent as a triumph of civilisation over ignorance, to some extent, this seems to be the fact, since even native Americans are enjoying the convenience brought by the modern inventions. The question is simply that the price of this modernisation is too heavy to bear. For native Americans, the change of life is not worthy of cerebrating at all. If today's Americans cannot realize native Americans' situation and their feelings today, but to insist on the expelling of native Americans as part of the so-called Manifest Destiny, then there's no doubt that these people are flattering themselves by their own ignorance and proud.
Finally, let's back to California again. After sending everyone off from LA, I went on my lonely journey. This was to fulfil a promise for myself, a date with the Sierra Nevada. While driving for hundred after hundred miles in the desert, what accompanied me was a piece of CD. Maybe only under that circumstance, did I get overwhelmed by Morning from Peer Gynt, and found Clair de Lune so comforting. Also, I'll forever remember those sequoias in Yosemite Valley, the giants of stratosphere, they stood there, from the time when there was no me in the world, and will be there after my farewell. I guess they had also witnessed John Muir's life as a voluntary ranger. For Mt. Whitney, I stayed nearby for two days. I could see the peak when I lifted my eyes from Lone Pine, but after drove half way up to the camping site and began the Whitney Trail, it hided behind mountains and only would show up occasionally. After two hours' climbing, I ended up by Lone Pine Lake, not having a permit to challenge the peak. Actually, I was not well prepared for such an over-10-hour's climbing. Two hours was good for me, since I've seen the face of Mt. Whitney for myself, and I had nothing to regret.
On my way back to San Diego, I stopped in Death Valley to taste the salty soil and stayed in Palm Spring for 18 hours, just have time to visit the local art museum. I was glad to see both places have an introduction of native Americans' life in these area, this is what should be done.
There was too much that worthy to be recorded for all these days, but this time I just do it as a memorandum.
In the first a few days, I stayed in San Diego. As the birth place of California, San Diego still has a strong Spanish colonial atmosphere, which can be seen from those mediterranean-style buildings. After spending hours lingering along the seashore and passing the long-stretched naval base several times, I went to visit the USS Midway. If you have ever watch the drama Miss Saigon, you can imagine the scene that the helicopter took off from the U.S. embassy and flew towards this aircraft, after The Last Night of the World. Yes, Midway is the one performed the task Operation Frequent Wind in 1975. It was also sent to Jeju Island in Kwangju Massacre and served in the Persian Gulf War in 1991. Now all the dust of all the events has settled, Midway is at its anchor by the shore and has become part of the city's aerial view, like a retired veteran. When the kids looking around this giant with curiosity, they may not be able to feel the sorrow of parting and fear of death of those people who once boarded it. Hopefully, they would never have to experience that kind of feeling, and this is exactly the aim of attempt for our generation.
Then we spent three days on the notorious California State Route 1, and arrived San Francisco Bay in the evening, dust covered and exhausted. After a refreshing shower, we went to China Town to fill our stomachs. The moment I open the door of the car, a nasty smell made me wrinkled up my nose, then I noticed the sewage and garbage on the street. The empty stomachs urged us to move on, so we walked in a restaurant, ordered and waited for dinner. Two young men and one young woman seated around another table, talking in English with very good accent. The older young man was trying to analyse some situation for the other two, and giving them some directions. They were talking with fluent English, but their way of thinking and dealing with people was typically Chinese, so I thought that they should be Chinese descendants. Which generation of immigrants were they? I didn't know. But the feeling was that the history of Chinese migration appeared in an appreciable way here and now. Again, I found myself get lost in time. From my own experience of life, I can fully understand how the first generation immigrants work hard to make a living as aliens-no matter what kind of job they do, they have to support the family while trying to accommodate themselves into a new environment. But I am baffled why after all these years, the Chinatown area is still filled with sewage and garbage, even the whole San Francisco has been reshaped once and again after the 1906 and 1989 earthquakes? What is the meaning of life if you have to live in the same environment generation after generation?
During the group trip, the greatest thing for me was having the chance to see some sites related to native Americans, such as Cheyenne, Dakota and the Sioux, Little Big Horn. The tribes involved here were mainly those who once inhabited the Great Plains. While talking with an native American in the Crazy Horse museum, I was moved by his saying"Our ancestors were arose from this continent, so do we. Native Americans will be guardians of this land as long as anyone of us still alive." Many people just see the westerners' spreading on the new continent as a triumph of civilisation over ignorance, to some extent, this seems to be the fact, since even native Americans are enjoying the convenience brought by the modern inventions. The question is simply that the price of this modernisation is too heavy to bear. For native Americans, the change of life is not worthy of cerebrating at all. If today's Americans cannot realize native Americans' situation and their feelings today, but to insist on the expelling of native Americans as part of the so-called Manifest Destiny, then there's no doubt that these people are flattering themselves by their own ignorance and proud.
Finally, let's back to California again. After sending everyone off from LA, I went on my lonely journey. This was to fulfil a promise for myself, a date with the Sierra Nevada. While driving for hundred after hundred miles in the desert, what accompanied me was a piece of CD. Maybe only under that circumstance, did I get overwhelmed by Morning from Peer Gynt, and found Clair de Lune so comforting. Also, I'll forever remember those sequoias in Yosemite Valley, the giants of stratosphere, they stood there, from the time when there was no me in the world, and will be there after my farewell. I guess they had also witnessed John Muir's life as a voluntary ranger. For Mt. Whitney, I stayed nearby for two days. I could see the peak when I lifted my eyes from Lone Pine, but after drove half way up to the camping site and began the Whitney Trail, it hided behind mountains and only would show up occasionally. After two hours' climbing, I ended up by Lone Pine Lake, not having a permit to challenge the peak. Actually, I was not well prepared for such an over-10-hour's climbing. Two hours was good for me, since I've seen the face of Mt. Whitney for myself, and I had nothing to regret.
On my way back to San Diego, I stopped in Death Valley to taste the salty soil and stayed in Palm Spring for 18 hours, just have time to visit the local art museum. I was glad to see both places have an introduction of native Americans' life in these area, this is what should be done.
There was too much that worthy to be recorded for all these days, but this time I just do it as a memorandum.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Driving into American History,1
During my staying in US, I did a number of long-distance travels. As an old saying goes,"He travels the fastest who travels alone", most of the time, I traveled by myself and I really enjoyed the process.
My first experience began at Mt. Rainier National Park. There the zigzag mountain road lead me to Paradise after half a hour, where I hiked till Muir Snowfield, about 7300 ft in that season. At the moment of reaching the beginning of Pebble Creek, I had the same feeling of Mo, who is a fictitious character in one of my stories many years ago, just as if I once dreamed of this scene. In the following days, I drove around Mt. Rainier from west to northeast, to Sunrise. I stopped on the way from time to time, thinking,"What a wonderland!"By the evening I was in Packwood, filling the gas tank. It was Labor Day holiday, and there was a flourishing farmer's market in town. Seeing people trading in the background of snow-capped mountains and forests, that was a miraculous feeling of reality.
After my coming back from Seattle, I read the story of John Muir, together with his book-The Mountains of California, and was deeply moved by his description of the landscape in the book, which was accurately and vividly, with respect and love to the nature. Meanwhile, when visiting the Reynolda House Museum, I learnt the Reynolds family history. Something touched my heart while it comes to Smith Reynolds's son's death, the 17 year old young man perished when he was climbing Mount Whitney. I decided to visit California's mountains-this decision could be a call from angel, or it could from devil-but anyway, I must go and see for myself.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Possibilities of Life
We are writing our own history, everyday. Each one of us has a unique purpose and distinct path, but one thing is in common: during this long journey, we have to be presented with all kinds of lessons in order to fulfil those purposes.
Still this fact is sometimes paradoxical. We learned multiple disciplines at the beginning of our school education, and much of what we learned later became part of our common sense, as long as we use them frequently in daily life, such as simple calculation. Others, like calculus and molecular weight of commonest chemical elements, if we are not engaged in some related fields, we just give it back to the teachers.
But is there the possibility that we remember everything we learnt? Yes, if we revise them from time to time. Then another question comes: why do we need to know so much that we may never use these knowledge? This is a formidable question.
Years ago when I was in high school, we had a debate on this issue. My seatmate hold the point that people need to focus on a few things which are helpful for the future career, and mine was on his opposite side. The reason I believe it's necessary to know some knowledge from every subject is mainly that I view the world as a whole, and everything is connected with each other, perceivable by man or not. Neither of us could persuade the other. Today, he's become a successful red wine dealer after getting his bachelor degree from France, and I'm still enjoying my struggle for a PhD in medical biology. We kept the habit of mocking at each other when we meet on line.
-Knowledge can change one's fortune! That's why you are outside the door of marriage. What's the use of learning so much for so many years? Marrying the right man is better than working hard!
-Sorry, I can only live the way as I wish. Don't laugh at me. How about yourself? Maybe you've never wasted time on unrelated things?
He suddenly became serious.
-Humm, I should say, it is the seemingly unrelated knowledge that helps me run my business today.
There's a well-known psychological theory called Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Originally, Maslow classified human needs into five stages: Physiological, Safety, Belongingness and Love, Esteem, Self-Actualization and Self-Transcendence. Personally, I agree with this theory and use it to explain my choice. For me, wanting to know is closely related with the need of Self-Actualization and Self-Transcendence, that is to say, keeping the key to all the possibilities of life.
Then what is the possibilities of life? Again, a definition which is difficult to explain. Maybe a good example is the strategy of Google-they just keeping on innovating things that can change our life gradually, from Android to self-driving cars, google glass and even Project Loon. By this way, people connect today with the future, not only that, but also daily life with infinity.
Thank all the friends who show me these possibilities do exist. Thank you, Etai, for explaining me fundamental principles of fluid dynamic together with the usage of MatLab and COMSOL; Thank you, Peng, for telling the story of Schrodinger's Cat and uncertainty principle; Thank you, Yong, for describing Bach's fugue with your personal understanding so vividly; Thank you, Yiqiao, for sharing with me your opinions about all these aspects of life. Friends are the windows from whom you see an extended world, friends are the mirrors from whom you see the past. I'll remember the time being with you, it would be the best part of my life.
Still this fact is sometimes paradoxical. We learned multiple disciplines at the beginning of our school education, and much of what we learned later became part of our common sense, as long as we use them frequently in daily life, such as simple calculation. Others, like calculus and molecular weight of commonest chemical elements, if we are not engaged in some related fields, we just give it back to the teachers.
But is there the possibility that we remember everything we learnt? Yes, if we revise them from time to time. Then another question comes: why do we need to know so much that we may never use these knowledge? This is a formidable question.
Years ago when I was in high school, we had a debate on this issue. My seatmate hold the point that people need to focus on a few things which are helpful for the future career, and mine was on his opposite side. The reason I believe it's necessary to know some knowledge from every subject is mainly that I view the world as a whole, and everything is connected with each other, perceivable by man or not. Neither of us could persuade the other. Today, he's become a successful red wine dealer after getting his bachelor degree from France, and I'm still enjoying my struggle for a PhD in medical biology. We kept the habit of mocking at each other when we meet on line.
-Knowledge can change one's fortune! That's why you are outside the door of marriage. What's the use of learning so much for so many years? Marrying the right man is better than working hard!
-Sorry, I can only live the way as I wish. Don't laugh at me. How about yourself? Maybe you've never wasted time on unrelated things?
He suddenly became serious.
-Humm, I should say, it is the seemingly unrelated knowledge that helps me run my business today.
There's a well-known psychological theory called Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Originally, Maslow classified human needs into five stages: Physiological, Safety, Belongingness and Love, Esteem, Self-Actualization and Self-Transcendence. Personally, I agree with this theory and use it to explain my choice. For me, wanting to know is closely related with the need of Self-Actualization and Self-Transcendence, that is to say, keeping the key to all the possibilities of life.
Then what is the possibilities of life? Again, a definition which is difficult to explain. Maybe a good example is the strategy of Google-they just keeping on innovating things that can change our life gradually, from Android to self-driving cars, google glass and even Project Loon. By this way, people connect today with the future, not only that, but also daily life with infinity.
Thank all the friends who show me these possibilities do exist. Thank you, Etai, for explaining me fundamental principles of fluid dynamic together with the usage of MatLab and COMSOL; Thank you, Peng, for telling the story of Schrodinger's Cat and uncertainty principle; Thank you, Yong, for describing Bach's fugue with your personal understanding so vividly; Thank you, Yiqiao, for sharing with me your opinions about all these aspects of life. Friends are the windows from whom you see an extended world, friends are the mirrors from whom you see the past. I'll remember the time being with you, it would be the best part of my life.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
On the edge of my driver's licence, there's a red, heart shaped symbol, which stands for a promise for life: once the driver can not survive in an accident, whose organs would go to those who are on the transplantation waiting list.
When I was asked whether I'd like to be an organ donor for the first time, I hesitated and said no. As long as there're still people who care about me, I must let them know before I make such kind of decision. Luckily, they all understand me and put it up to me, so I told them I'd like to be an organ donor while receiving my full license. The whole process was simple.
-Yes, I do. This brief sentence goes together with my view towards life. During the years I lived, I kept on questioning about the world. The more I know, the more I love the world. Out of the simple thought of helping others, I determined to be a doctor. Also motivated by the same idea and the impulse to find out why, I decided to work on for a PhD after finishing the study in medical school. I don't know how far I can go in biomedical area, but just believe that by working together with people from different fields, we can make life better.
Live to make my dream come true, this is the only reason I take good care of myself. If there would be someone who can live better through my organs, I'll wish them live in love and be glad that I can rest in peace finally. Just because I believe I would be treated properly.
But what if not? Here I'm going to tell another story, a very unpleasant experience of mine.
In 2010, I was engaged in a subject relevant to stem cells, and needed to collect some human subcutaneous fat sample. I contacted the transplantation unit of our affiliated hospital, and one day they asked me if I dared to go to the execution place with them together.
I had never been to any execution place before, so I said yes.
We took an ambulance and arrived at a garden in the suburb of Shanghai. After document examination at the entrance, the heavy steel doors closed behind us.
Later, another two ambulance from the other two hospitals arrived. I was surprised to see one of my classmates, who was in the burn unit of one hospital. He told me they would take all the skin apart from the hands, feet and the head-neck part for wound covering, the other hospital was about to take the heart and lungs, and the people I came with would take the liver and kidneys.
-How will they put the prisoner to death?
-Injection of overdose barbiturate, muscle relaxants plus high-concentration potassium chloride. The guy will die of cardiac arrest.
Then there came the bailiff car. The bailiffs took the prisoner to another room, and the dead body was carted out from that room twenty minutes later. The waiting doctors piled on.
-You can take your sample yourself now. A senior doctor said.
-Thank you. I'll try. I answered while putting on the operating gown.
I had seen birth and death many times during my internship, and I was never afraid of death. However, the moment I touched the body, the warm feeling kept me from doing anything. My hands trembled slightly at the thought that I was impairing the indignity of life.
-Why can't you take some tissue? This is very easy. Get scared, Aha? The senior doctor cut a piece of tissue, put it in a bag and handed it to me.
-Thank you.
My classmate came to me.
-Hey, we are about to peel the skin now. You'd better turn or leave this room, or you will have nightmare on seeing that.
-Thank you. But don't you feel afraid?
-I've been used to what I see. Do I have other choice? No, that's our daily routine. He shook his head.
I turned around and saw the name card of the dead. As I fled from that room, a gendarme saw me.
-Who are you? How did you came here?
-I'm a student from SMMU, and I came together with the transplantation people.
He walked in the room to have my words verified. I just sit in the ambulance, couldn't help thinking about what I saw just now-Everything is so clear till today-The man's face, his newly made cloth shoes, torn pants and the name card. He looked quite young so I thought his parents may still alive and would be sinking in grief on hearing his death....I was in such a deviated mood that I lost my cell phone that day.
Coming back to the dormitory, I searched the man's case on line. Then I knew he was haired to kill someone when he was 19, that was, 10 years ago. I couldn't figure out why he was put to execution 10 years after his sentence, because people who got a suspension of death sentence would usually get their release after served years in prison. I just hoped his execution was not the result of someone needed his organs. But who knows? If we have to sacrifice one life for the benefit of others and treat his body this way, then what is the significance of life? As doctors, are we helping to save lives or we are accomplices in some crimes?
We only live once.
When I was asked whether I'd like to be an organ donor for the first time, I hesitated and said no. As long as there're still people who care about me, I must let them know before I make such kind of decision. Luckily, they all understand me and put it up to me, so I told them I'd like to be an organ donor while receiving my full license. The whole process was simple.
-Yes, I do. This brief sentence goes together with my view towards life. During the years I lived, I kept on questioning about the world. The more I know, the more I love the world. Out of the simple thought of helping others, I determined to be a doctor. Also motivated by the same idea and the impulse to find out why, I decided to work on for a PhD after finishing the study in medical school. I don't know how far I can go in biomedical area, but just believe that by working together with people from different fields, we can make life better.
Live to make my dream come true, this is the only reason I take good care of myself. If there would be someone who can live better through my organs, I'll wish them live in love and be glad that I can rest in peace finally. Just because I believe I would be treated properly.
But what if not? Here I'm going to tell another story, a very unpleasant experience of mine.
In 2010, I was engaged in a subject relevant to stem cells, and needed to collect some human subcutaneous fat sample. I contacted the transplantation unit of our affiliated hospital, and one day they asked me if I dared to go to the execution place with them together.
I had never been to any execution place before, so I said yes.
We took an ambulance and arrived at a garden in the suburb of Shanghai. After document examination at the entrance, the heavy steel doors closed behind us.
Later, another two ambulance from the other two hospitals arrived. I was surprised to see one of my classmates, who was in the burn unit of one hospital. He told me they would take all the skin apart from the hands, feet and the head-neck part for wound covering, the other hospital was about to take the heart and lungs, and the people I came with would take the liver and kidneys.
-How will they put the prisoner to death?
-Injection of overdose barbiturate, muscle relaxants plus high-concentration potassium chloride. The guy will die of cardiac arrest.
Then there came the bailiff car. The bailiffs took the prisoner to another room, and the dead body was carted out from that room twenty minutes later. The waiting doctors piled on.
-You can take your sample yourself now. A senior doctor said.
-Thank you. I'll try. I answered while putting on the operating gown.
I had seen birth and death many times during my internship, and I was never afraid of death. However, the moment I touched the body, the warm feeling kept me from doing anything. My hands trembled slightly at the thought that I was impairing the indignity of life.
-Why can't you take some tissue? This is very easy. Get scared, Aha? The senior doctor cut a piece of tissue, put it in a bag and handed it to me.
-Thank you.
My classmate came to me.
-Hey, we are about to peel the skin now. You'd better turn or leave this room, or you will have nightmare on seeing that.
-Thank you. But don't you feel afraid?
-I've been used to what I see. Do I have other choice? No, that's our daily routine. He shook his head.
I turned around and saw the name card of the dead. As I fled from that room, a gendarme saw me.
-Who are you? How did you came here?
-I'm a student from SMMU, and I came together with the transplantation people.
He walked in the room to have my words verified. I just sit in the ambulance, couldn't help thinking about what I saw just now-Everything is so clear till today-The man's face, his newly made cloth shoes, torn pants and the name card. He looked quite young so I thought his parents may still alive and would be sinking in grief on hearing his death....I was in such a deviated mood that I lost my cell phone that day.
Coming back to the dormitory, I searched the man's case on line. Then I knew he was haired to kill someone when he was 19, that was, 10 years ago. I couldn't figure out why he was put to execution 10 years after his sentence, because people who got a suspension of death sentence would usually get their release after served years in prison. I just hoped his execution was not the result of someone needed his organs. But who knows? If we have to sacrifice one life for the benefit of others and treat his body this way, then what is the significance of life? As doctors, are we helping to save lives or we are accomplices in some crimes?
We only live once.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Does Intelligence Lessen Happiness?
The higher intelligence,the more happiness? This is definitely a debatable issue. Ernest Hemingway said, "Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know." Based on this, we come to such a conclusion that, the more intelligent the less happy. Is this conclusion correct? An obvious fact is, people with high intelligence usually be more frequently rewarded for their important contributions, and they can always find joy in their own way. How can we believe they are less happy than common people? In my point of view, Hemingway neglected the difference between knowledge and intelligence, so he confused the two to draw the above-mentioned conclusion. His conclusion is quite far from the truth, or at least, inaccurate. A more precise expression should be, happiness in knowledgeable people is the rarest thing I know.
Why Hemingway’s saying should be adjust like that? I’ll explain. According to explanations given by the Oxford Advanced Learner Dictionary, intelligence is the power of learning, understanding and reasoning, while knowledge stands for all that a person knows, or familiarity gained by experience. Coupled with happiness, which is usually defined as a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy, we can reason that there’s no antithesis between intelligence and happiness, and high intelligence is more likely to have a positive effect on attaining happiness. As for most people, it is just the rare happy experiences of life that makes happiness so precious. So, the more a person knows, the more common his experiences are, when he can only feel happy at a higher threshold, his happiness slips away from him. For these reasons above, we can conclude that the more knowledgeable a man is, the greater chance he losses happiness, and that’s why I revised Hemingway’s saying into” Happiness in knowledgeable people is the rarest thing I know.”
Why Hemingway’s saying should be adjust like that? I’ll explain. According to explanations given by the Oxford Advanced Learner Dictionary, intelligence is the power of learning, understanding and reasoning, while knowledge stands for all that a person knows, or familiarity gained by experience. Coupled with happiness, which is usually defined as a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy, we can reason that there’s no antithesis between intelligence and happiness, and high intelligence is more likely to have a positive effect on attaining happiness. As for most people, it is just the rare happy experiences of life that makes happiness so precious. So, the more a person knows, the more common his experiences are, when he can only feel happy at a higher threshold, his happiness slips away from him. For these reasons above, we can conclude that the more knowledgeable a man is, the greater chance he losses happiness, and that’s why I revised Hemingway’s saying into” Happiness in knowledgeable people is the rarest thing I know.”
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