Generosity.

He greets every patient with the kind of smile that lights up a room. He makes sure he speaks personally to every single patient, and often squats on the floor just so he can be at eye level with those who are bedbound. He treats students like myself as his equal, always patiently answering our every question and turning every query into a discussion, instead of dismissing us as we so often are. He makes every person feel so important, so precious.

I have started a new module at another hospital. My stint at the previous hospital had left me jaded and rather discouraged, making me question my vocation. Now every day, I am reinspired by his enthusiasm for his work, passion to teach and dedication to his patients. I used to dislike Internal Medicine as a subject because I found it so incredibly difficult to master. Because of him, I now enjoy it tremendously.

There was something so effervescent, and genuine about his personality. (I hate to admit this, but doctors are valecdictorians of Making Other People Feel Like They Are Taking Up Their Precious Time.) And it was not till today when I could finally pinpoint what it was about him which made me marvel.

He is patient, passionate. But most of all, Dr E is generous. Generous with his time, and himself.

Generosity. It refers to the quality of being gracious enough to give unselfishly, abundantly. And in the context of the bible story of the old, poor woman who, out of her poverty, gave all she had (just 2 copper coins), I believe it also refers to the quality of giving, not merely out of one’s abundance and convenience, but also out of one’s need. It is sharing in times of pressure, giving in times of lack.

Morning ward rounds became a battlefield today. 3 patients suddenly went into critical condition around the same time and Dr. E had not only to resusitate patients, but had to make phonecalls, make decisions, confront anxious relatives and teach his junior doctors at the same time. Yet, that cheeky smile was never far from his lips. Even in crisis, he could laugh at himself. Later, he told us, “No matter how badly your patient is doing, I always smile because it makes them feel better. A smile can halve a patient’s pain, you know.”

I saw, how generous he was with his smiles. Even in busy moments, he would pause to smile at me, “Wai Jia, I’m a little tied up now, so sorry. We’ll have a discussion about strokes in a minute.” He makes every person he comes into contact with feel important and cherished.

Grandpa Zhou came to visit me at the hospital today. I made him come, because he refused to see a doctor at a clinic, and would not let me take him. When I sat next to him by the steps of the train station yesterday, I saw that both his feet had swollen to grotesque proportions. Bilateral pitting edema. This is not a good sign. I remember I was very tired yesterday, and half-hoped I would not see him. When I did, I wanted to simply go home instead of stopping to chat. I was tired, and stingy with my time. How God shamed me. Because it was just when I sat down next to him that he handed me a bottle of medicated oil and a loaf of bread, saying, “I bought this oil for your leg many days ago, and was hoping to pass it to you as soon as I could-for your torn muscle. And a loaf of bread, because I’m terrified of bread, and you like to eat bread, haha.”

Grandpa Zhou was generous with me. But I had not been so with him. I am always rushing somewhere, going off to study or train or meet somebody. I’m glad my injury has given me more time for the people around me.

Last night, Grandpa Zhou was adamant about not seeing a doctor. “I don’t need one! My feet are swollen because I drank green tea yesterday!”

I cut him short. No, Grandpa Zhou, nonono… I wanted to tell him GREEN TEA DOES NOT MAKE YOUR FEET SWELL AND I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO THE DOCTOR. He wouldn’t budge, so I made a deal with him, that he would give me a call the next day after I had asked Dr. E if he could see Grandpa Zhou’s feet on an informal basis. He agreed.

Dr. E had had a busy morning. 3 of his patients were in critical condition at the same time. One elderly gentleman had a drug overdose (suspected suicide case), another had widespread infection and had just suffered a transient stroke causing temporary blindness and intestinal death, while the third was having fits after they had started treatment. The patients needed close monitoring, and many phonecalls had to be made. Dr. E had every right to be tired. Yet, when I told him about Grandpa Zhou, he smiled that same smile and said, “Sure, I’ll be happy to see him.”

When I picked Grandpa Zhou from the lobby, he finally admitted he was in pain. He was hobbling the way I was when I first injured myself. Pushing him down the long corridor in a wheelchair, I was astounded by my initial self-centredness- I nearly walked by him the previous night because I was afraid that he’d talk for too long, and… I was tired. I wanted to go home. Yet, today, all he wanted to know was whether his oil worked, whether I was better, if I could do triathlons again.

But when Dr. E saw him, he made Grandpa Zhou feel like the most important person in the world. Dr. E squatted down, listened to Grandpa Zhou’s convoluted explanation about green tea and cucumbers causing foot-swelling and talked with him patiently. Dr. E was busy. Grandpa Zhou was a little long-winded. I was asking for a favor.

But Dr. E made us feel, in those 10 minutes, like the most important people in the world. The ten minutes felt like gold. It felt like forever, in a good way.

And in utter humility, Dr. E, instead of belittling Grandpa Zhou’s explanation for his swollen feet, said, “I’m not very knowledgeable about how foods affect feet, Grandpa Zhou. But from my limited knowledge, I believe this may be a side effect of your hypertensive medication, and a sign of mild heart failure.”

I learnt, that true generosity is giving someone else what they need, and not what I have excess of. It is not giving bread away to the person by the wayside and treating them like a charity case for my conscience’s sake. It is sharing with them what is important to me, too, while respecting their dignity. Very often, it is being inconvenienced.

After the consult, I wheeled Grandpa Zhou downstairs.

“Haha,” I laughed. “You and I, both of us are PAI-KA (Hokkien dialect for ‘crippled’).”

“Go back to work,” he said, “I’m taking up your time. I’ll handle myself, don’t worry.”

Why am I so stingy with my time. Did I make Grandpa Zhou feel like he was taking up my time? If I can spend 2 hours biking, why can’t I spend this time listening to a explanation about green tea and swollen feet. Why am I always rushing about. It struck me, that perhaps, Grandpa Zhou had walked on his painful, swollen feet just so he could get the medicated oil for me specially.

Grandpa Zhou had shown me lavish generosity.

Dr. E, in his busyness, then sat down to teach me about anti-hypertensive drugs.

He is generous with his smile, and generous with his Time-something senior doctors have so little of.

Just before I left, I wanted to thank Dr. E for being so Generous with his time with Grandpa Zhou, with his time teaching me, and with his time in taking us students out for sumptuous lunches so he could get to know us better as persons, not functional entities.

But before I could open my mouth to express my gratitude, he said, “I just wanted to thank you Wai Jia for introducing me to Grandpa Zhou. It was an honour meeting him. I hope you had a good day, you must be tired. “

I stood there, speechless.

Thank you Dr. E, for reinspiring me, and for reminding me, that God has an abundance of grace and love and resources, of which we can tap on to share with and give others. Thank you for generously giving yourself to the people around you, be it through a smile, eye contact or simply making me feel like the most important person in the world when I’m talking to you.

And thank you Grandpa Zhou, for the medicated oil, for the bread and for praying for me. But most of all, for teaching me yet again, the grace of giving.

2 Corinthians8:2,3, 7