I had always thought that after I graduated, I would always be a doctor, right up until I retired. I never thought that I would ever work outside a hospital. If it hadn't been for the karmic affinity brought about by the tsunami, I'm sure I would never have gone to Sri Lanka in this lifetime. When I saw so many patients with infected wounds, I wondered why they hadn't immediately

The narrow passageway of the medical station was crowded with patients, some on their feet and some seated. All were waiting hopefully for their turn.

Although a tripped circuit breaker had again caused the electricity to go out, doctors and nurses still bustled about their business, not in the least disturbed by the blackout.

In the area where seriously injured patients were treated, loud groans were frequently heard. Wearing a headlight, bathed in sweat, Dr. Li Wei-che was cleaning and dressing a patient's wound. At his side was anesthesiologist Li Chun-yi, who was also busily engaged.

Ascertaining the location of a wound, cutting it open, cleaning and dressing it...Without the help of nurses, the doctors at the medical station had to do almost everything themselves. Aside from providing treatment with care, they also paid close attention to patients' reactions and made polite inquiries about how their homes and families had been affected by the tsunamis.

Here at the station, the doctors fulfilled all kinds of functions. They worked around the clock to share the sorrow and soothe the emotional pain of the patients as well as heal their physical ailments.

Volunteering to serve

On December 26, 2004, a huge undersea earthquake struck the Indian Ocean, triggering a series of massive, devastating tsunamis. Extensive TV coverage immediately conveyed the magnitude of the disaster around the world. Dr. Li Chun-yi's mood rose and fell as he watched the death toll going up.

Li was about to become head of the anesthesia department at the Xindian Tzu Chi Hospital (which opened in suburban Taipei in May 2005). He knew from experience that the Tzu Chi Foundation would take immediate action to help the tsunami survivors, so he volunteered to participate in any relief mission that Tzu Chi organized.

On December 27, Li received notification that he would be on the first Tzu Chi medical relief team to set off to Sri Lanka. By that time, he had already finished packing. After bidding farewell to his parents and wife, he started out with the team on December 29.

All Li knew about Sri Lanka was that it produced a large quantity of black tea. Almost free of natural disasters, the beautiful country was a well-known holiday paradise.

There were many countries Li had never been to before. There were many countries he wanted to visit. But he had never thought of going to Sri Lanka, which was a long way from Taiwan. "If it weren't for the tsunamis, I might never have had the chance to visit the country."

The Tzu Chi medical relief team, consisting of over 30 medical workers and volunteers, landed in Colombo, capital of Sri Lanka, at midnight December 30. From there they traveled over 240 kilometers (149 miles) of mountain road to Hambantota, a heavily hit disaster area. The team rapidly set up a medical station, and Li was assigned to serve in the area where seriously injured patients underwent treatment.

In Taiwan, almost anyone who has sustained an injury can obtain medical treatment quickly, so Li was surprised to find that over 50 percent of the patients he came across in Sri Lanka had wounds that were already infected. He knew that a nearby public hospital was still in operation, so why didn't the injured tsunami survivors seek medical care earlier?

His doubts were dispelled a couple of days later. "The survivors had no time to think of their wounds. Their physical wounds were nothing compared with the emotional pain they were experiencing after losing their homes and loved ones to the catastrophe."

The helplessness and despair of the survivors made his heart ache. "The statistics in the news could not convey their sorrow to us. Only by seeing it yourself could you realize how deep their pain was."

In Taiwanese hospitals, the division of labor is precise, and anesthesiologists have very specific duties to perform. But because of the shortage of manpower at the Tzu Chi medical station in Sri Lanka, Li had to clean every patient's wounds himself.

Li mentioned that after he began to practice medicine, whenever he saw homeless people on the street with uncleaned, dirty wounds, he would want to help. He always hesitated because he was afraid that people might think him strange. But in Sri Lanka, he could clean a patient's wounds without thinking, as if he were long used to it. "By participating in the medical relief mission, I had the chance to adjust my way of thinking. I believe that from now on if anyone on the street needs to have their wounds cleaned, I will be able to do it with perfect ease."

With the greater specialization and the more precise division of labor in Taiwan's medical field, an anesthesiologist's skills in tending external injuries usually cannot compare with those of a general surgeon. After his experience in Sri Lanka, Li realized that tending wounds should be one of the basic skills of all doctors. "After doctors practice in their respective specialized fields for some time, they should go back to receive general medical training. This is especially important for doctors who want to help others."

About two or three years ago, Li went to Cambodia and Vietnam to serve in free clinics conducted by other charitable organizations from Taiwan. The free clinics provided medical services mainly to children with cleft lips. "I stayed in the operating room. When patients came in, I anesthetized them. After the surgeons operated on them, I did post-operative examinations. The interaction between patients and doctors was not close."

But the free clinic in Sri Lanka was different. Like Tzu Chi volunteers, doctors showed care and concern for the patients and their families, and even thought of their future for them. "We could say that the patients received 'total care' at the station."

There was one more thing that impressed Li. "In Sri Lanka, regardless of whether you were a medical worker or a volunteer, we all moved heavy stuff together and ate from a huge pot. We worked together to help the victims. Although the whole process involved a lot of hard work, it was very meaningful."

Invited by Tzu Chi members, many local people also volunteered in the relief operation. Uditha, 21, served as a translator for Tzu Chi doctors because he could speak English. Li had a lot of chances to talk with him. "Uditha lost his uncle to the disaster, and he was very sad. But after he saw how strangers rushed to the aid of his country, he began to look differently at the tragedy. He said that the Tzu Chi medical team opened a window for him and broadened his horizon."

Li said that even without Tzu Chi volunteers, Sri Lanka will become more advanced in the future and the idea of "global village" will reach them one day. He thought it a good thing that the Tzu Chi relief team had enabled them to get a glimpse of the outside world.

Early years

When Li was still a child, his mother was in poor health and often fell ill. That was when the idea of becoming a doctor formed in his head. Academically brilliant, he got into medical school without much difficulty. He said that he did not embrace any lofty ideals when he entered the field of medicine. "I just thought it was a nice occupation; besides, as a doctor I would be able to look after my family's health."

In his fourth year in medical school, he joined a medical service team to offer free services to the needy. Because he was still a student, he could not see patients yet and could only help set up the pharmacy, check and classify injuries, and watch senior doctors conduct examinations. Fourth-year students in the department of nursing could do more than he did. The experience made him feel very frustrated.

"Back in those days, I was full of enthusiasm to serve. When called upon to help, I immediately responded with enthusiasm. But how much love and compassion did I have? How much could I do? I wasn't clear about that."

After graduation, Li became a doctor and began to practice medicine. On the third day after he started working, something unforgettable happened to him.

A 17-year-old young man whose abdomen had been gravely injured in a car accident was sent to the hospital where Li worked. Lying on the operating table, the young man gripped Li's hand and said to him, "Please, you must save my life." Sensing strongly his duty as a doctor, Li said firmly, "No problem. Please rest assured. We'll take good care of you."

However, things did not turn out the way Li expected. When they cut open the patient's stomach, they found that the veins of his lower abdomen had burst and blood was oozing out relentlessly. An emergency transfusion was given to the patient. However, in only three minutes' time, the young man's blood pressure dropped to zero. There was nothing more the doctors could do.

Li walked out of the operating room in great distress. He found himself a secluded corner and burst out crying. He felt badly for failing to keep his promise to the young man. "I told him I'd save him, but I failed to do that."

Deep sorrow engulfed him. But he thought of the other patients that needed his care, so he tried to pull himself together. The next day when he walked into the hospital to begin another day's work, a stronger sense of mission had taken root in his heart: "From now on as long as I have the ability, I will always do the best I can to save people's lives."

Competing with oneself

Li said that because he came from a poor family, throughout his youthful years he was constantly immersed in a spirit of competition. "When I got the second highest grade in my class," he explained, "I'd want to get the highest grade. When I became first in my class, I'd work harder to become the number one student in the school. Once I became the number one student in the school, I'd want to stay on top. I was in a never-ending competition, forever putting pressure on myself. But did I really know myself? Did I understand what I really wanted? I had no idea."

Looking back on his life so far, Li, now 40 years old, said that for over 30 years he had been competing with others, but he had never thought to compete with himself. "If you're always competing with others, you'll never feel contented--unless one day you make up your mind to compete with yourself, to transcend and overcome your limitations."

After going to the disaster area and seeing the world outside of a hospital, he seemed to have a deeper understanding of himself. "As long as one is brave enough to step out, one will reap the rewards. Only by transcending the limitations of the self will one get the most enduring, everlasting joy."

The experience in Sri Lanka had recharged him, making him freer in spirit and more broad-minded. He said that before although he did care for his patients, he did not let his care show, and because his patients were often under anesthesia, they did not get the chance to know him better. But from now on he would try to improve his relationships and transform his love for patients into concrete action.

Doctor-patient relationship

"Although traditionally doctors and patients are not in opposing positions, patients are nevertheless in a weaker position." Once a patient burst into tears after Li explained to him in detail the risks involved in anesthesia during an operation. It turned out that after the patient learned he had to undergo surgery, he began to get nervous. But he dared not ask the doctors about the operation, nor did he want to worry his family, so he had been unable to sleep well for the last couple of weeks. "After he heard my analysis, he was finally relieved and could rest at ease."

"If I had explained the risks to him two weeks earlier, wouldn't he have been saved from worrying during those two weeks?" Li reflected. Because of this incident, Li planned to set up an outpatient service in the Xindian Tzu Chi Hospital for patients who are to undergo anesthetized operations. Patients can ask whatever questions they have in mind and thus release their pent-up pressure before surgery. The doctors can also use such opportunities to express their care for the patients.

Once Li came across a patient who had had a car accident on his way home late at night. When the young man was recovering from surgery in the hospital, he joked around, paying no attention to his worried parents. When Li saw this, he just had to say to him, "Can't you see how worried your parents are? You didn't take good care of yourself and now you're showing no respect to them..." Upon hearing his words, the young man unexpectedly burst out crying.

The next day, when Li was making rounds in the wards, the young man's parents told him that their son had promised them that he would never return home late again, and that he would keep good company and never make them worry about him.

This experience taught Li how important it was to talk and communicate with patients when necessary.

In the disaster area, Li was kept busy all the time. Yet no matter how busy he was, he always spoke softly and clearly, showing that he was a gentle, deep person. When asked why he was so good at controlling his emotions, he talked about an episode in his life.

Four years ago, he saw a piece of paper on the ground and picked it up. On the paper were written aphorisms selected from Master Cheng Yen's book, Still Thoughts. He did not have the time to take a closer look at it at that time, and so he put it in his pocket. One time when he was caught in heavy traffic, he took out the paper and read it. One aphorism caught his eye: "Getting angry is actually punishing yourself with others' faults." "From that time on, the number of times I got angry gradually decreased."

Li said that he used to lose his temper easily. "When others did something wrong that affected the safety of the patients, I'd point it out angrily and lash out at the person who had made the mistake. But after I had done so, I often felt very bad."

Now whenever he feels he is about to have a fit, he remembers that aphorism. "The aphorism touched something in me. That's why it has had such a tremendous influence on me."

"The scenes of devastation we see on TV may touch us and even move us to tears. But those feelings aren't deep enough, so they don't last. When you go to a disaster area yourself, you feel completely different."

When Li first became a doctor years ago, it never occurred to him that he would visit a distant country one day to offer free medical services. "I thought I'd work in a hospital until I retire. It never crossed my mind that I'd work outside of a hospital."

Li felt amply rewarded spiritually in Sri Lanka. He said that when the medical station was first set up, many patients walked in with a limp or with others' help. But after receiving treatment, they could walk in by themselves only a couple of days later. Seeing the survivors getting better day by day made Li feel grateful for the chance to serve.

Since he returned to Taiwan, the people in Sri Lanka still come to his mind often. He misses them and wonders how they are doing. "I hope that after the houses that Tzu Chi is building for them are completed, I can go back to see them again."