STI: A meaningful life in good times and bad

March 8, 2009

A meaningful life in good times and bad

Personal relationships support us through disasters and help us celebrate triumphs

By Lee Wei Ling 

 

I spent last Chinese New Year's day in the hospital. I had a surgical complication that left me with an ileostomy, or an opening from the small intestine through the abdominal wall.

 

The contents of the small intestine flowed out of the ileostomy almost continuously and at times in large volumes, leading to overflows, soiling my clothes, blanket and bedsheet. I also had flatulence, adding to my social embarrassment. If I went out, there was the possibility I would soil my clothes and smell. Hence, although I was already physically fit, I stayed in hospital on Chinese New Year's day.

 

A childhood friend sent me a greeting: 'You are going through a lot. But you are inherently tough. You have friends and family who support you. I can only wish you all the best.' He then inserted a long greeting in Chinese.

 

Translations never do justice to Chinese literature, but the gist of the greeting was: 'Wishing you good luck, prosperity, promotion or ascension up the social ladder. May all your wishes come true; may you have good health and safety.'

 

Do I really want any of these? I don't hanker for prosperity, promotion or ascension up the social ladder.

 

As for good luck, having all my wishes come true, good health and safety - well, I won't decline any of them if it is offered to me with no strings tied. But I am a pragmatist. I accept that life is not a bed of roses; no one can promise one that life will be fair.

 

My mantra, which I memorised in 2003 during the agonising week when my mother had a bleed in the brain and was admitted to a hospital in London, is the poem If by Rudyard Kipling. I can recite the 294-word poem by heart.

 

The lines that left the deepest impression on me were these:

 

'If you can dream - and not make dreams your master/ If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim/ If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster/ And treat those two impostors just the same.'

 

I have met with triumph and disaster many times in my 54 years of life. Until a few years ago, I used to feel a sense of exhilaration when I triumphed, and despondency in the face of disaster. Now, I react less strongly to the vagaries of fate.

 

Intellectually, I know that in the overall scheme of things, I am but a transient being. My personal fortunes are inconsequential to the universe.

 

But intellectual knowledge and emotional reaction involve different areas of the brain and in evolutionary terms, emotion preceded intellectual reasoning. Thus, we find it difficult to remain calm and emotionally detached when misfortune strikes.

 

This year will be a difficult one for most of the world, including Singapore. The financial outlook is bleak. While I am not concerned for myself, since I lead a spartan lifestyle and do not spend much, I am concerned for my staff and patients and, of course, for the whole of Singapore.

 

Many people will face severe financial setbacks over the next few years. Some among my staff at the National Neuroscience Institute (NNI) will face difficult times. They may have to forgo certain luxuries like holidays abroad or eating out in restaurants, but none will lose his or her job and all will continue to have a decent standard of living.

 

If I don't wish for wealth or promotion, what do I want? Well, I would not decline the promise that all my wishes will come true, or that I will have luck, good health and a safe year ahead.

 

But I know that that is wishful thinking, and wishful thinking will not help me face reality.

 

I want a strategy that will see me through triumph and disaster. I want to be able to live up to the wisdom of If. The only part of that poem that I no longer have any wish to abide by is this: If you can fill the unforgiving minute/ With sixty seconds' worth of distance run/ Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it/ And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!'

 

For many years, I tried to fill each of my minutes with 60 seconds' worth of distance run. I used to consider leisure time spent with friends and family not a worthy way of spending my minutes.

 

In recent years, after a series of misfortunes, I have learnt that friends and nuclear family, people who are near and dear to me, are crucial in helping me survive and thrive in the face of adversity. They are important to my psychological resilience.

 

With the wisdom of age, I have realised that time spent on interpersonal relationships may not be tangibly or materially productive, but goodwill between like-minded people, be they friends or relatives, has an intangible value. Friendship should not be taken for granted. We are not only there to support each other in bad times, but also to counsel, encourage, console each other - or celebrate together when the occasion arises.

 

How much my thinking has changed is illustrated by an incident that occurred on the eve of the new millennium. A close friend had wanted to see me on Dec 31, 1999. I told him: 'Come to NNI at 10pm. I can talk to you until 11.45pm, after which I have to go to the intensive care unit in case any Y2K glitches occur.'

 

Nowadays, when this friend calls and asks if I am free to have lunch, I always see him if I am able to. My friend thinks I have mellowed. I have not mellowed. I have re-evaluated my priorities in life.

 

The writer is director of the National Neuroscience Institute.

 

Riding the waves

 

I have met with triumph and disaster many times in my 54 years of life. Until a few years ago, I used to feel a sense of exhilaration when I triumphed, and despondency in the face of disaster. Now, I react less strongly to the vagaries of fate.