青柳诊所手记（44）

还不到八月份，园子里种的很多西红柿都成熟了。今年的梨和苹果都是硕果累累，但李子树几乎没有结果。阿里医生真是个眼尖的人啊，有一天他居然在层层叠叠的叶子下面找到了三颗李子，金黄色的！他如获至宝地捧到我们面前，一人一颗。我们就像举杯一样，将各自的李子互相碰了碰，然后洗也没洗，就吃下去了。此情此景让我觉得很感动，感觉不是三个医生在一起举杯，而是三个园丁在一起庆祝大丰收。

这个月的确是个丰足的月份。C给我们带来了一大箱新鲜的黑莓，昨天一个小女孩给我们带来了两盒新摘的蓝莓。 10天前我们在诊所开了一个中医聚会，邀请了差不多20个医生或健康领域的同道们聚集一堂，他们每个人都教给了我们那么多知识和智慧。J甚至还给我们带来了当归苗和决明子苗…..

夏天大多数人都去度假去了，诊所也相对清静一些。我也发现现在来找我的病人比较有特色了，而那些比较“正常”的都去找大师兄了。他给人治疗时几乎就不说什么话。他常常说他的手就是他的嘴。只要是他的手在人家的身上推拿，对方常常能感受到他的信息，他的能量。高人啊！

而喜欢来找我的人，明显是有些不一样的。不一样表现在哪里呢？比如，这个西人患者，他自己没有来看病，却让他的太太来，而且交代她给我带上一首诗，算是对我上次写的短诗“青柳悟”的一个回赠：（左边阴，右边阳/中间是一座桥/含笑坐在桥上的是光/一言不语）“阴和阳，也许并不总是平衡/就如一个钟摆/循环不息”。这让我想起了古时候文人赠诗互答的情景，很有趣啊。

另外一个沉静寡言的年轻人，几乎什么问题都没有，他来找我，我问他他的主诉是什么，他首先说的就是：“我想跟你谈谈你写的那首诗……” 我给他针灸和拔罐时，他几乎没有什么反应，但只要跟他一聊到人生、哲学、庄子、老子，他的眼睛就炯炯发亮起来。

我也没想到我上次写的那首短诗，竟然引起了那么多的评论。很多人说它太阴暗了，也有些人说它深刻，少数人说它好玩……  更有一个患者惊慌地问我：安娜医生一切都好吗？我有些担心….

担心什么呢？就因为我的诗歌里提到了一个“死”字？可见，这个死的概念，不仅仅是东方人忌讳，连西方人也尽量回避啊。然而，人生无常，如果不把这个死字看穿，你又如何能够活得潇洒？

这天晚上被叫去医院给一个晚期癌症病人治疗。她已经在安宁疗护了。我和大师兄在诊所忙了一天，已经很累了，但还是决定去看看有什么我们能够帮她做的。

到医院时已经晚上八点半左右了，安宁疗护病房周围一片静悄悄。我们以前并不认得这个病人。走进房间前，我想象的是一个瘦成皮包骨、病恹恹躺在床上，连眼睛都睁不开的虚弱无力的患者，却不料那个笑吟吟站在门口迎接我们的中年妇女竟然就是她。她看上去精神很好几乎没有什么病态啊。

我给她针灸，大师兄给她推拿。他们说重症病人病气最重的地方就是脚，但大师兄一上去就开始按摩她的脚，连手套也不戴。我们一边工作，对方一边开着玩笑：“我是个好人啊，也很守纪律，我健康饮食，我经常锻炼，家庭也很美满，我样样都好，为什么还会得这该死的癌症呢？医生说得我这种癌症的机率是微乎其微，但偏偏就被我摊上了？而且是最有侵略性的那种？命运真是不公平啊。”她笑着摇头。“是啊，这个世界上不公平的事情太多了，”我也笑着答。

我给她做气功观想时，她隔壁床的西人也在微笑着探头探脑，我就邀请她跟我们一起做观想。

临别前，我们给隔壁床的西人也稍微治疗了一下。她握着我的手舍不得放开，问：“我很快就要去临终关怀了，你们还能来看我吗？”

大师兄和我都点头。我加上一句：“我还会带上一只桶子用中药水来给你泡脚。”

我不知道我们到底帮到她们多少，但走的时候，每个人的脸上都带着真挚平和的笑容，我也可以清楚地看到她们眼中的不舍。

平常我都是九点就睡觉的，这天晚上，我到深夜才上床。闭上眼睛，我的脑子里想的不是死这个字，而是泰戈尔的诗歌：生如夏花之绚烂，死如秋叶之静美。世界以痛吻我，要我报之以歌…..

Whispering of Willows 44

It's not even August, yet many tomatoes in our garden are already ripening. Pears and apples are in great abundance this year, but the plum trees have hardly borne any fruit. Dr. Ali is such a sharp-eyed man that one day he discovered three golden plums under layers of leaves! He held them in front of us, triumphantly, as if they were treasures, one for each of us. We clinked our plums together like for a toast, and then ate them without washing them. This scene touched me deeply, as if it wasn't three doctors toasting together, but three gardeners celebrating their great harvest.

This month is indeed a month of abundance. C brought us a large box of fresh blackberries, and yesterday a little girl brought us two boxes of freshly picked blueberries. Ten days ago, we held a seminar in our clinic, inviting nearly twenty doctors and health practitioners. Each of them provided so much knowledge and wisdom. J even brought us some rare herbal seedlings ...

In the summer, most people go on vacation, so our clinic is relatively quiet. Having time for reflection, I have begun to notice differences between Dr. Daniel’s clients and mine. Many of the patients who come to see me are more or less a beautiful form of eccentric, and those who are relatively "normal" prefer to see Dr. Daniel. Dr. Daniel seldom talks when doing treatments; he told me that his hands are more like his mouth. As long as his hands are massaging people, the other party can often hear his message and feel his energy. What a master!

The people who like to come to see me lately have been beautifully different. In what way? For example, this patient did not come to see me on this day; his lovely wife came. As soon as she sat down, she told me her husband had asked her to bring a haiku he wrote:

The Yin and Yang

May not always be balanced

But rather a pendulum

Just swinging back and forth 

This reminds me of the ancient Chinese literati who regularly gave poems to one another as gifts, which is very interesting.

I wrote a related poem previously:

Thoughts from Whispering Willows

on the left, Yin; on the right, Yang

a bridge in between

upon which sits Light

rays gleaming, quietly

this side, Life; that side, Death

a wall in between

upon which rests the soul

fingers calculating time, mischievously

Another eccentric young man, who had few physical problems came to see me. When I asked him what was his primary concern, he said: “I am thinking about the poem you wrote…”

When I gave him acupuncture and cupping, he rarely reacted, but as long as I talked about life, philosophy, Zhuangzi and Laozi, his eyes lit up like lanterns.

I didn't expect that the short poem I wrote last time would attract so many comments. Many people said it was a bit too dark, while some said it was profound, and a few said it was playful... A concerned patient asked me: “It sounds rather dark, is everything okay, Dr. Anna? I am a little worried...”

Worried about what? Because my poem mentioned the word "death"? The concept of death is often taboo in Eastern culture, but obviously, Westerners are not comfortable with it either. However, life is transient, unpredictable and time-limited. If you don't consider death, how can you live freely and consciously?

One night, we were called to a hospital to treat a patient with advanced cancer. She was already in palliative care. Dr. Daniel and I were quite busy in the clinic all day and were very tired, but we decided to see if there was anything we could do for her.

We arrived there about 8:30 in the evening, and it was super quiet on the ward. We hadn't met this patient before; she was a referral from a friend. Before entering the room, I imagined a weak, skinny, sickly person lying in bed, unable to even open her eyes. Unexpectedly, the middle-aged lady standing at the door greeting us with a big smile was her. She looked energetic, pleasant, humorous, and with no hint of being closer to dying.

I gave her acupuncture and Dr. Daniel gave her a gentle massage. Traditional teachings say for the seriously ill person, the feet have the most unhealthy energy, but Dr. Daniel started massaging her feet immediately, without even wearing gloves.

As we worked, the patient joked, laughing, shaking her head at the same time: "I am a good girl, very disciplined, eat healthy, exercise regularly, a happy family... I am doing well in everything, yet I still got this damn cancer. The doctors said that the chance of getting this kind of cancer is very, very slim, but why did I get it? And it's such an aggressive kind? Life is really unfair…"

"Yes, life is not always fair," I agreed and smiled.

While doing some Qigong and visualization with her, the senior lady in the next bed peeked at us, grinning, so I invited her to join us for meditation.

After treating our patient, we gave the senior lady a quick herbal massage too. She held my hand and asked, "I will go to hospice soon. Will you still come to see me?"

Both Dr. Daniel and I nodded. I added, "I will also bring a bucket with herbal medicine to soak your feet, help you with the edema."

I am not sure how much we helped them, but when we left, everyone in the room had a genuine and peaceful smile on their face, and I could clearly see fear replaced by fondness in their eyes.

I usually go to bed at nine o'clock, but that night, I didn't sleep until midnight. When I closed my eyes, what jumped into my mind was not death, but two verses from Tagore's poems:

“Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves. ”

“The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs”.