It was like learning how to walk all over again. Except that this time, it was in water. This time, it was like learning how to breathe and live and function all over again. I was drowning all over again- the water went into my eyes, throat and ears. I was facing a huge amount of resistance. I didn’t expect it, this wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did.
I felt handicapped.
I thought, now that I had already mastered the basics, I would be ready to take on challenges on a whole new level. But as soon as I levelled up, I was back to square one.
I guess this is what they call being brought to one’s knees.
Just before I was rotated to a different hospital to work in, I had just completed a sprint triathlon. That was the first time I had swum freestyle so effortlessly and smoothly in my years of trying to learn the stroke. But I realized, that breathing on my right side solely (as most people do) did not serve me well during my race. The race course was anticlockwise, and breathing on my right had the tendency to direct me off-course. Hence, I resolved to master the art of bilateral breathing from that day on.
Left, right, left, right. What could be so hard about that?
In the same way, changing hospitals and specialties- what could be so hard about that?
I was sorely wrong.
I thought I could build on what I had mastered and propel myself further. But learning how to breathe on both sides of my body threw me off completely. Moving my head from one side to the other made me disoriented, my neck and back muscles were sore and uncomfortable, my body sank and pushed against the water like a sinking log. Each time I took a left-sided breath, water would enter my ears and mouth, causing me to choke. Swimming this way made me slower than I had been in a long time. Reality made me see, it didn’t matter how well I had swum previously. Now that I had decided that bilateral breathing is superior to one-sided breathing and necessary for racing, I would have to learn the stroke all over again.
It felt like going back to square one.
In the same way, coming to a new hospital and a new department to work in threw me completely off course. It made me disoriented and I started to choke. Just before I left the previous hospital, I was setting intravenous plugs and drawing blood accurately from patients, I was getting fast and efficient, I was learning how to communicate effectively and easing into the hospital culture. But just when I thought I could climb to the next level, I realized that the new hospital runs on a totally different system, this department has a far harsher culture, the new ward has far poorer lighting, it even has different sort of intravenous plugs and needles, and I had to learn to use them all over again. I became lousy at drawing blood overnight.
It felt like going back to square one.
I was stumbling, bumbling alone. Choking.
But one thing I know for sure, that practice always makes perfect. It took me weeks to master the art of blood-drawing in my previous hospital, but once I did, I scarcely missed a vein.
And now into my 6th week of bilateral breathing, I’ve finally mastered the art of propelling myself forward without choking on water.
Into my 6th week of work in this new place, and finally being rotated to a different team of more humane doctors last week, I’ve finally got into the groove of things, too.
In times like these, you realize, that you just can’t turn back the clock to return to your old ways, no matter how comfortable and efficient you were before. There’s no point in returning to one-sided breathing and there’s no point in reminiscing how efficient you were in the previous department or hospital.
That was old wine in an old wineskin. This, is a new season.
Today, as Grandpa Zhou prayed with me by the steps of the train station and as we had dinner together, he told me how he had been praying for me four times a day every single day since the time I told him how maladjusted I was to my new workplace. I had just finished a 32-hour shift from 6am on Sunday to 2pm yesterday and I will be on-call again from 6am tomorrow till 2pm on Thursday. How my head spins with fatigue. But I know, that there is no merit in self-pity.
“My prayer to God is for you to be happy, oh so HAPPY, EVERY SINGLE DAY of work in your life!” he exclaimed passionately.
After work today and after we had both prayed together (he, for my work, and I, for his health), I slipped into the pool and started swimming. And as I did, I breathed on both sides comfortably and effortlessly.
I’m on call tomorrow again.
Breakthrough, is coming.