Chinese Wisdom

It had been three months since the operation. The man sat up groggily. Another bad dream. His wife brought him breakfast. "You've got your check-up today honey," she reminded gently. The Pastor nodded. He'd be having check-ups for the rest of his life. Such is the fate of a transplant patient.

Not that he minded. He'd been given a second chance. The waiting list for a new heart was notoriously long - he was grateful for every new day. He could have done without the nights though. Chaotic, random thoughts plagued him. His sheets were drenched every night. Peter and Liz agreed it must have just been his body adjusting. Yes, but adjusting to what? he wondered.

The Chinese surgeon looked over the case file with some apprehension. "Wong old boy! Dont look so sullen. Whats up?" His brash colleague had entered without knocking. "Oh, Dr Woods. Its the Pastor - he's due for a check-up today. You're welcome to sit in if you like." Looking over the post-op scans, the American offered "All signs point to another successful transplant. What has you so spooked?"

The two looked at each other. They'd worked together for ten years, each bringing a distinct style to their booming practice. The traditional Chinese, the loud American - they were a classic East-meets-West team like something out of Hollywood. And their results spoke for themselves. They ran the number one transplant surgery in the country, and were highly prized speakers at all things medical. They worked like clockwork, and knew each other like brothers. In that one look, they both knew exactly what was on his mind.

"Wong... tell me you're not still thinking about the donor."

***

The police gathered around. Laying face down was Johnny Hamstein. Notorious killer of ten victims, all from bludgeoning head wounds. The media had labelled him 'The Hammer', and the search had been as arduous as it had been long. Finally he was tracked to Automative Repair shop in Nevada. As the Hammer took his morning cigarette break, a single headshot from a police sniper took him down. His reign of terror was over. As police searched the corpse, warmth still rising from the hole in his head, a cop smirked. "Whaddya know, he's on the registry. Looks like some kid's gonna get his kidney."

***

Peters palms were sweaty. As he crossed the waiting room floor, he nodded in prayer to some other patients. His holy robes often drew attention in a place like this. Everyone was looking for a saviour.

"Pastor! Good to see you." Dr Woods extended a warm handshake and a big grin. After a similiar greeting, Dr Wong instructed him to sit down. "Looking over your blood test and scans, your body seems to be cooperating very nicely. You must have Gods blessing after all."

Peter only managed half a smile. This was serious. "Perhaps medically I'm fine. But ever since the operation I've been ravaged by nightmares. Strange dark thoughts. Images I've never seen before. How is this possible?" The two doctors looked sideways at each other, unsure of how to approach the subject. Dr Wong broke. "Peter... it is the hospitals policy not to release any donor information to patients. You have enough physical and mental stress already. You dont need the added worry about who died so that you may live. But in your case, we feel you have a right to know. Without going into details, the donor was a criminal. A killer in fact."

Blood drained from Peters faced. "What! A.. a killer? There must be some mistake!"

Dr Woods started, "Look Peter, I know this upsetting..."

"You know huh. You know nothing! I am a man of God! How can I bless the pure hearts of church-goers when my own is as black as the night!" he leaned forward in his chair, head in his hands. Again Woods tried to reason with him. "Please - hear us out. The theory of cellular memory is nothing more than a superstition! The very idea that memories can be stored in every cell is ridiculous. Medicine has never recognised such a thing as being possible, let alone probable. I'm sure these dreams will pass."

"Dr Woods, may I have a moment alone with the Pastor? After all, I performed the surgery - I can relate to him some additional information that might be of comfort." The American nodded thoughtfully and patted Peter as he left the room.

The Chinese man lent in, almost whispering.

"Actually, what he said it not exactly true - Eastern medicine has acknowledged the theory of cellular memory for centuries now. The 'Huang Di Nei Jing' or Yellow Emperor’s Internal Medicine Classic is one of the most important Eastern medical books ever written. It dates back a few hundred years before Christ. Described within, ZangFu theory states that a brain resides in the heart. The interesting part is, this has recently been seen under new light. Neurocardiologists have found that 60 to 65% of the cells of the heart are actually neural cells, identical to cells in the brain. The heart actually interacts very closely to signals from the limbic structure, or emotional brain."

"So... what you're saying Doctor, is its possible to feel the emotions of the donor?" Dr Wong got up and stared out the window, letting out a deep sigh. "Theoretically, yes. Although research in this area is almost taboo. Traditionlists and researchers will inevitably clash, ideals against science. And economically minded Doctors like our friend Dr Woods probably dont want to know anything about it. It'd certainly be bad for business."

There were a few moments of silence.

"Actually Dr Wong," Peter began, "I have a small piece of Eastern wisdom I've been musing on recently myself." The Doctor turned, intrigued. "Really Peter? Do relate."

The Pastor stood up, raising a hand in the air, summoning his best preaching voice. "Sun Tzu, in The Art of War, states: 'Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."

The Doctors brow crinkled. "I'm not sure I understand.." he managed, just before the full force of a hammer smashed into his face. The sickening crunch was like a perfect hymn to the Pastor, as he looked lovingly at the dripping weapon he'd concealed under his robes.

Peter smiled. "The Hammer is back - Amen."