Beyond Medicine - Qualifications for Justice

During the day shift, I was informed that we were expecting an Infectious Disease patient around two or three in the afternoon—an HIV-positive patient coming in for a C-Spine MRI due to neck pain to check for infectious spondylitis.

However, by past four in the afternoon, the patient still hadn't arrived. A colleague nearby, who had previously rotated through Infectious Diseases, was already muttering complaints about the patient's past history:

"He lives in the mountains of Chiayi. The cause of his HIV infection was likely sharing needles due to drug addiction. Both husband and wife were infected, then they blamed each other, and eventually divorced."

"Originally, they both wanted children, and even thought about doing IVF. But because of this, they couldn't have any."

"The last time he came for admission, he was also scheduled for the day, but only called at 5:00 PM to ask if he could come tomorrow instead."

"Don't know why he went to Dalin Tzu Chi Hospital, and later they refused to take him."

"Ah, but he does frequently brag about his adopted daughter, praising how well she does in school."

Someone asked: "Didn't they divorce? And can he raise a child like that?" "I don't know, it seems she was adopted before the divorce."

The colleague remarked with annoyance: "Can we ask the admission service to just cancel the admission for anyone who hasn't arrived by 4:30?"

Later, the patient finally arrived to check in for admission close to five o'clock. But by this time, the day shift staff had all gone off duty. Just then, a few other beds had unexpected issues, and the night shift on-call doctor and nursing staff were overwhelmingly busy. Thinking I would help take the admission to lighten my on-call colleagues' burden, I finally saw the patient's frail appearance.

The patient was indeed experiencing such severe neck pain that he could barely turn it, affecting his daily activities. Furthermore, being a single parent who had to care for a child, he likely had quite a few matters to attend to at home. Getting everything sorted out and traveling from Chiayi could genuinely cause a significant delay.

However, amidst his descriptions of discomfort—aside from the neck pain and various other minor aches—we also couldn't rule out opiate withdrawal. In other words, the recoil of his past drug addiction was now returning to strike him.

The medical staff's impatience and the wearing away of their tolerance stemmed from an inability to forgive the patient's lack of self-care due to drug addiction and his abuse of medical resources. But what I found peculiar was that someone who seemed to have completely banished himself from society still, according to the stories, retained a passion for raising his child, subtly projecting the beautiful image shaped by this society onto his daughter.

Recalling everything I have seen in the ward from last month until now, I truly cannot help but ask: are the values by which each person judges, or the fairness and justice conveyed by society, really that absolute? Once we render a judgment based on our own perspectives, is it not true that, to some extent, simply by being human, we are bound to have prejudices?

I have seen a famous NTU obstetrics and gynecology doctor, who was both brilliant and enormously wealthy in his youth, surrounded by his reluctant, grieving children at his deathbed; I have also seen the bleakness of a terminal cancer patient dying alone, a wife suspected of being abandoned by her husband.

I have seen family members in their fifties, riddled with ailments, whose sisters were all deaf and mute, bearing the entire burden of caring for an eighty-something-year-old mother—helpless, anxious, and frantically applying pressure to the nursing staff; I have also seen a carefree patient, a member of a southern merchant family living off inherited wealth, who despite his young age suffered from multiple chronic diseases.

All beings will never be equal, at least not in their right to choose, nor in the breathing room life's pressures leave for seeking dignity. But if this society cannot pass judgment on the true efforts each person makes, must we really leave it to God? Yet, I both believe and do not believe in God.

The God I do not believe in is a God mixed with human desires, conceived from an anthropocentric perspective. Humans are imperfect, confined by their own prejudices, and arrogant.

The compilation of the Bible can be traced back to history selectively concealed and altered by the Roman regime for public and private reasons; the old customs of Islam reflect the ancient desert tribes' pursuit of social stability, but carried over to modern times, they have become shackles for those in power to restrict women's rights; the practices of Buddhism, after spreading far and wide, incorporated local characteristics but transformed into oppression, harboring decayed Confucian hierarchies or even extorting wealth.

Whether it is genuine, sincere faith that leads to aberrant and misguided actions, or the pursuit of selfish gain under the guise of God, I do not believe in a God shaped by fundamental human desires. Regarding good deeds done in the name of God, I only revere the purity of sacrifice, dedication, and wholehearted giving.

The God I do believe in serves to remind us that humans are insignificant. In this era of population explosion, where technology brings the illusion that man can conquer nature, there are still forces operating beyond human comprehension; there are too many unimaginable unknowns beyond our perspective. Christian doctrine once mentioned: "Do not presume upon God." Extending this interpretation, using "God" as a collective pronoun for everything transcending human thought, the God I believe in serves to constantly caution us to remain humble, not to rashly judge right and wrong based on our own thoughts, and not to speak recklessly of fairness and justice based on our own views.

In the end, perhaps the pursuit of absolute fairness and justice beyond one's own subjective views is itself a form of pride or obsession? The Buddha said, "Sever attachment to self, attachment to views." When we rack our brains wondering why the world operates this way, and feel indignant over injustice, have we not jumped into the dead end of this obsession? Focusing on our own duties, staying true to the fairness and justice we recognize, and striving to have a clear conscience—perhaps this is the best that beings as insignificant as humans can do.