The eyes of a stranger

In a Starbucks – Sydney – Jan 2020

John is playing with his gold-plated Mont-Blanc while checking his mobile phone. His americano coffee is almost at room temperature now, but still untouched. He is half expecting a last-minute cancellation of this long-awaited meeting.

“Emily should already be here. She used to be very punctual. Right, but it was more than twenty years ago. Now, what do I know about her?”

His phone rings. Paul, his friend from Hong-Kong, is on the line.

-       Hi, John. Is this a good time to talk?

-       Hi there. I’m waiting for Emily. In a coffee shop. And she is late.

-       You did it! Impressive.

-       Well, I didn’t do anything yet. She might never show up.

-       Man of little faith!

-       I’m now wondering if I did the right thing. Maybe I should have left the past where it belongs.

-       Too late to second-guess your decision.

-       Maybe not. I could leave and forget all about it.

-       Right. It has been twenty years and you still have not forgotten. Unless you develop Alzheimer, I don’t see much hope in the “forgetting” department.

-       Do you think that anybody else than us, doctors, would laugh at this?

-       Probably not. But who cares?

-       Anyway, I prefer to wait for her a while longer and see what happens. The waiting for Alzheimer’s alternative: not so appealing.

-       See, your famous common sense has finally kicked in.

-       Oh, God, I think I just spotted her.

-       Great. I’ll hang up now and keep my fingers crossed. I expect a full debrief no later than tomorrow.

-       You got it. Cheers!

At Princess Margaret hospital - Hong-Kong – One year earlier

After carefully parking his Mercedes at the doctor’s carpark, John takes a deep breath. And another one. And another one. And it doesn’t make him feel any better. He decides to ignore it and to get on with his day. A bunch of interns are surely already waiting for him. No time for self-pity or introspection.

He walks briskly into the surgery building of the hospital. Many people are already queuing for a consult. At first, John used to feel bad for them. He wanted to change the system. He wanted to make it better for his patients. Now, he barely sees them anymore.

Princess Margaret hospital is one of the biggest in Hong Kong. It’s not located on the fancy Hong Kong Island side, but has nevertheless proven itself to be one of the best hospitals, especially when it comes to kidney and related research. 4000 staff, 1700 beds. The size of a factory. Its many buildings all share one characteristic: they are oldish and could use some re-painting, but its non-stop buzzling activity makes it impossible to take time aside for a cosmetic make-over.

John has been working there for almost twenty years and made his way to the few coveted top positions.

He smiles as he recalls this very special Sunday lunch with his parents. He had invited them to the Peninsula hotel where a one-star Michelin chef operated a very expensive and delicious dim sum restaurant called “Spring Moon”.

Even though John lived for many years in Australia, he always had a fondness for Cantonese cuisine. He could easily defend it as the best cuisine in the world and loved this long-lasting habit of going to a dim sum restaurant with his parents on Sundays to eat dumplings. He had made sure that among the various dishes on the menu, like the well-known baked barbecue pork puff, they would also find the famous Siu Mai, a delicious shrimp and pork dumpling. He had tried many restaurants in Sydney, but none managed to re-create this unique taste of Siu Mai.

As soon as the dishes had arrived, he had told them the big news. He was promoted as head of surgery. Lu, his dad, was smiling and looking genuinely happy. He stood up and held his son in his arms for a brief hug. And that was it. After that, it was a given that John would continue to succeed as well as to have the perfect family.

John must be the best at everything to make Lu proud and it is exhausting.

“I simply need a holiday. When was the last time I took some time off?”

John is briefly relived to find a plausible cause for his lack of energy. He is simply tired of the pressure he has in all areas of his life, be it at the hospital or at home.

“I’ll ask Lola to take care of it. She will plan something for us. She knows how to choose nice and expensive hotels. All will be well after a break.” 

His smile fades as he visualises the holiday. His wife will be at the spa all day and Mary will be handed over to a baby-sitter instead of staying with him. Better for her, will say Lola. Isn’t it strange that she feels more comfortable at the thought of a stranger taking care of the baby than her own father? It will surely not be the family vacation that he first naively had in mind: “rest and re-connect” will not be in the agenda. No, instead he will have to find a golf course to keep himself occupied.

 “Shouldn’t I be happy to have a pretty wife and a healthy child? And a good job? And a nice car?” His attempts at boosting his morale fail one after another. “Ok, if that’s what it is, if you want to feel like an ungrateful brat, just go and do your work. Distract yourself with your patients and your interns. That’s what you are good at. So just do it.” The voice in his head won’t stop chastising him. The only way against it, is indeed to drown himself into work. And that is an easy thing to do at Princess Margaret.

“It could be worse. I could have a job where I have not much to do all day.” A very small satisfaction indeed, but the only one he can find for now.

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