Less a human

Less a human

Today I heard that someone left this earth,
that someone disappeared left no mark here.
Today I heard that someone just got up and left himself,
lying on the ground.

Today is quiet in my town.

Today two boys disappeared without noise,
and I wish that I was them flying somewhere overhead.
And tonight in silence, two lovers hate and find,
one is bored and one is angry,
but neither one of them is right.

Today is quiet in my town.

Today I heard the sound of birds,
and I wish that I was anywhere but here.

Today is too quiet in my town.

(Modified from the lyrics of "Quiet in My Town")

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I came across an emotional song by Civil Twilight called "Quiet in My Town". The song reminded me of death to a certain deep level. Perhaps enough to silence me for the rest of the day while my heart was submerged in - for lack of better word - sorrow. I haven't had that many experiences of having people I came to love dying. Perhaps it was the very reason -  the lack of experience that birth the fear of loss - that drove me into mutism.

I remember a time when I was unadulterated with the immunity of death that I learn to develop over the years leading to the present. It was a time when even the thought of strangers dying sends a pulsation of grief to my soul, regardless of the magnitude. It was also a time when I had the realisation that whatever I was feeling must be magnified to a grand scale in the hearts of the stranger's loved ones. Sympathy and empathy, hand-in-hand.

It was partly the forces that got me into med school in the first place.

Looking back, it's simply amazing how one could evolve so much in a couple of years. The news of a stranger's death no longer shook my heart the way it used to be. They seep into my brain after entering my ears, then almost mechanically  the information is digested and transformed into words like "That's unfortunate - I feel sorry for the loss..." that is expelled from my mouth.

Am I less a human now? I'd like to think not. Humans develop immunity to things that they are exposed to ever so frequently. Being immune to the knowledge of death may help doctors to move on and concentrate on the living, so they would continue to save. Saying that they are less of a human doesn't seem very correct now.

However, it's also important to remember that there are levels of immunity. Some would agree that being completely immune and indifferent to death WOULD make you less of a human. I believe there is a delicate balance between preserving the acquired immunity and being susceptible to the grief of death at times. Unfortunately, the scale favours the immunity as doctors are ceaselessly exposed to death throughout their career. Perhaps having silent moments like I just had may help tip the scale back into equilibrium. At least it works for me.

Maybe it's a good idea to stop every so often and ask yourself: "Am I less of a human now?" Mirrors can do wonders to yourself.