Not Blind.

*name changed to protect identity

“Oh yea, my wife doesn’t talk to me anymore. Since I had this, she’s pretty much left me by myself.”

“Oh,” I said. “I see.”

Last Friday was the last day of my time as a medical student in the hospital wards. From now, we are barred from seeing any more patients as our final examinations are coming up. They include the recruitment of real patients from the wards, and hence, any attempt to be around patients from now will be seen as cheating.

Last Friday, Uncle Wee* spoke to me for a long time.

“Yea, sure. I would love to tell you more. Help you to be a good doctor. I speak to many many students all the time. Come, sit down. I’m here because of back pain. Very, very painful. I sound like I’m normal right? Haha, I’m in a lot of pain all the time. Morphine doesn’t help much!”

Back pain. It sounded innocuous enough. Perhaps it was a slipped disc. But further questioning unravelled a story which wrapped itself round my neck and gripped me.

“Oh, and er, this.”

He pointed to a few jelly-bean shaped lumps on his forehead.

“And this,” he pointed to a darkened reddish patch on his arm. “And this, too- all over my body. This part’s a little reddish cos of previous radiotherapy.”

It was everywhere. Enlarged lymph nodes and radiotherapy marks. That only meant one thing.
“Yea, I got lymphoma. Long story, you want to hear? Cos of my medication for my kidney transplant. I had chronic nephritis when I was 9 years old, kidney failure when I was 30, so I paid $200’000 to buy a new kidney. Have you heard of cyclosporine? I take it to prevent my body from rejecting my kidney.”

Cyclosporine. Why of course.

I know its side effects well. Obesity, gum enlargement, excess hair growth, hypertension, high cholesterol, diabetes, gout, possible seizures. But also, more maliciously, an increased risk of skin cancers, liver cancers, lymphomas and osteoperosis- which explained his terrible back pain from a compression fracture.

“Did you fall?”

“No, I didn’t. But my doctor says my bones are so weak. I’m only 50 plus, but because of cyclosporine, my doc says I’ve the bones of an 80-year old. I sat down one day, heard a click in my back and there it went. I’ve been in constant unbearable pain since then. My pain score is 10 out of 10 all the time without morphine.”

We talked a lot more. I looked into his eyes and saw peace.

“I know a lot about cyclosporine. I know all my complications now are because of it. Come, I show you- see my gums? See my radiotherapy marks behind my ear for my lymphoma? Not everyone gets these side effects, but yea, I did. Stage 4 of cancer already.”

He talked about his life, his job, his wife. There was no trace of bitterness. “When things like that happen, one must be determined. Yes, there is chemotherapy and going in and out of hospital… But life goes on- look at me.” He smiled. “The will is very important. My two children are my main motivating factors.”

He looked out of the window.

“But just a word from my experience, you don’t have to take it from me okay? Love doesn’t last,” he said. “ When you’re in courtship, love is so strong that it blinds you. My wife married me knowing I had kidney disease. Love is blind, my dear. Love is blind. But after marriage and children, things become different. Ever since I got lymphoma, my wife has not talked to me. She has not visited me once at hospital. What to do? Life goes on.”

Love is blind. Where have I heard that before. But is it, really?

Our conversation was both deeply enlightening and traumatising for me, on many levels. I was trying very hard not to cry. It also brought to my mind a couple I had met less than a year ago.

He was a special speaker invited to my church. From afar, he was quite a sight. He was a tall, formidable man. But half his face was badly scarred, his right hand was a stump and his greying hair was a sparse combover. He spoke about his thrill-seeking life as a young man, how he chased after fast cars, hot girls and his one consuming passion- skydiving. One day, as a young man, his plane crashed into a mountain and burned. He was right under it and just freeing himself when his engine exploded. Since his lifechanging near-death experience, he started to believe that God existed and was giving him a second chance. Since then, he has become an inspirational speaker and pastor.

Next to him stood a beautiful woman. She was old, yes, but she aged beautifully. She was a dancer. I looked at her in quiet admiration as I imagined how much she must have gone through to see her husband get injured and then heal. I imagined her devastation that the handsome man she married was no longer even a shadow of his former self in terms of appearance. To be fair, he was hideous. You would not walk past him without being startled.

Much later on, I was even more shocked to learn that she met and married him after his accident. She married him this way.

Love is blind? Really?

I say she went in with eyes wide open. Perhaps, she even married him because of it.

Once I asked a group of my medical friends what they would do if they found out their partners had a serious debilitating illness. It was a sobre conversation, even more so because of our medical background. We understand and have seen the severity of illnesses, and how they take lives away. I also remember asking, if they would consider being together with someone if they knew they had a longterm illness to cope with. Like lupus. Or a kidney transplant. Or polio.

Some of them were honest and said they would not consider anyone who was obviously a healthcare liability.

“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense,” said one.

I suppose, it doesn’t.

It reminded me of paraOlympian Gregory Burns, whom I had trained with and participated in triathlon races 2 years ago together with his teammates. He had polio and cannot use both his legs, but is an internationally acclaimed athlete, painter and inspirational speaker. His lovely wife is a photographer and exudes radiance and beauty.

It reminded me also of a young mum that Js told me about the other day. During a young-mums get-together, she said she met a lovely young mother in a wheelchair, probably no more than 35. She was an avid sportswoman who was struck by lightning during sailing. Since then, she has been paralysed tummy down. She probably is unable to relieve herself in the normal way we do. Her then boyfriend married her. They have a child.

The night of my birthday gathering, my special speaker Dr Darren Chua (a doctor who suffered a debilitating stroke soon after graduation) waved me goodbye as he waited for his wife to pick him up. Till today, he walks and performs actions with considerable difficulty, as one side of his body was paralysed, though he has made much progress. He shared with me, that his wife met him after his stroke.

It reminded me of Pastor S, whose wife married him knowing all the conseqences of his longterm steroid therapy from his lupus condition. Obesity, recurrent infections, osteoperosis, hair growth, high blood pressure, limb-wasting, cataracts, glaucoma, depression… That did not stop them from serving the underprivileged in rural parts of China together. They are a close-knit family of 3 now.

It reminded me of some people I know in relationships, where one of them has lupus and the other, in a different relationship, a genetic condition. Lupus can predispose one to recurrent abortions, among many other things. It’s treatement, steroids, has a multitude of obvious side effects. Neurofibromatosis can cause seizures, eye problems, skin problems and bony deformities. I know these couples well.

Were they all blind? Did love put a veil over their eyes, cloud their sound minds?

I mean, it just doesn’t make sense. Or does it?

Why, I’m sure they faced ridicule, and pressure from their friends and family. Were they ready for such a “liability” for life? Were they ready for the complications? Some conditions affect fertility; some treatments predispose one to cancers and infections in future; some, like a facial surgery, are simply too hard to hide from ignorant onlookers.

Were they all blind? Was love blind?

Once, someone chided me, “ You better make sure you find someone who is of equal standing or higher than you in every way. So he doesn’t become a liability.”

To which I replied, ” I see. And who is to say a rich, healthy man will not die of a car accident, or contract stomach cancer, or have an affair with another woman?”

Till death do us part. Who is to say who will develop cancer, get into a debilitating car accident, or be struck by lightning later on in life? What would happen then? Like Mr. Wee, would they then be abandoned? Here’s the news- 1 out of 3 Singaporeans will die of cancer.

Do we choose who we want to spend our lives with based on liability, rather than character factors?

If so, then we should all go for genetic tests, and strike off people with genetic predispositions to certain conditions. Shouldn’t we all stand in a line declaring what medication we take, and sort ourselves out according to liability strengths. Shouldn’t I be striked off because of my history of anorexia- after all, what IF it recurs?

Yet, who am I to judge. If it happened to me, could I do the same too?

I don’t know. It is easier to maintain one’s high moral ground when argueing theoretically. Being in the medical profession heightens one’s senses to so many things- we see scores of people suffering from late-stage cancers, infections, chronic illnesses, traumatic accidents, devastating injuries… to the point where I understand why some of my medical colleagues would seriously think twice about marrying someone who was ill to begin with. I suppose, most, if not all of us would.

It’s very painful to think about. It’s even more painful when you’ve actually seen the worst of so much, and helped to manage their treatment.

It’s painful to see patients in palliative stages, who have the conditions your loved ones have. It is difficult hold back tears when interviewing very sick patients with illnesses you know your loved ones have and may progress into. It is depressing to read medical journal articles about poor outcomes, and potential future complications of their medication. I have had to fight tooth and nail not to cry in front of patients as they shared their stories with me, as I think of loved ones who may also progress to that stage of the disease someday, sometime.

Mr Wee said, “Can you see yourself going through all this with the person? Love, it dies you know. It dies after courtship, and marriage and children.”

I ask myself sometimes- could I do the same? It makes me wonder, what runs through the minds of people when they say, “in sickness and in health”? Were they blind? Did they know what they were signing up for?

What would you do? Walk away, walk into it with love blinding your vision, or would you be able to, like these courageous and faith-filled people who saw beyond the decay of flesh and reality, walk into love with eyes wide open? Could I do the same?

I don’t know.

We see far more florid diseases than a normal person ever should. We know far more about the complications, and consequences of illness and treatments than we ever should. We have access into medical publications and journals which we don’t want to read, because they would break our hearts. It is no wonder that illness, or the possibility of illness, scares us to death.

They say love is blind. But I wonder, if it is not courage, indomitable resilience and formidable faith which have opened the eyes of these brave spouses.

What were they thinking?

Perhaps, it is not that they were blind, but that they went in, with eyes wide open, because they saw what the eye cannot see.

What would you do.

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