Do thou likewise

One of the things pounded into your head as you progress through your Internal Medicine Residency is Board Certification. It is a test at the end of your residency that accesses your knowledge and competency. The eight-hour exam was held in a large ballroom in Chicago. I remember feeling nervous as I flew down from Alaska to take it. The three-hour time change did not help my mental state as I prepared to take the test and fill out endless bubble sheets with a No. 2 pencil.

I like to sit near the front; it’s been a habit of mine for years. As I settled in and opened my test booklet, several hundred of my Internal Medicine counterparts started with me. The first four hours were not too bad. We then broke for a quick lunch and settled into the final four hours. As I took my seat in the second row I noticed a large man rush in; sweating heavily and walking with a cane, he took his place just as the timer started. As the exam progressed I noticed he was shifting around, trying to get comfortable in his seat, continuing to sweat. After an hour it became obvious that he was not comfortable. It was distracting to me as I tried to concentrate. He eventually got up to walk out to the bathroom and I was relieved, thinking I could once again concentrate on the last several hundred questions. For some reason though, I watched as he left. Still sweating profusely, he staggered with his cane to the door, collapsing just as he arrived and hit his head on the door handle with a loud crack.

I was in the middle of the second row, but I bounced over the table and rushed to him. He had a pretty significant head wound resulting in an unusual amount of blood. As I tended to him I learned he had a heart condition that required him to be on blood thinners. He was having a hard time breathing and really sweating, showing significant distress. I grabbed the handkerchief from my pocket to apply pressure to the wound. I looked around for some help and was shocked to see only two other people beside me. Everyone else apparently had looked up, saw someone else was there, and went back to work. We called 911 as he faded in and out of consciousness.

The test officiator came over to inform us that she could not give us more time to take the test and that we should return to our seats and she would try to help. I asked what her qualifications were and she said she had none. I looked around the room full of physicians and wondered how they had lost their sense of humanity in their pursuit of career goals. They were so focused on where they were going, they missed where they needed to be.

The other two people went back to their seats as I pulled him out of the ballroom and waited for EMS to arrive. He was in bad shape and it took a bit to get him stabilized for transport. I called his wife and when he was gone, washed the blood from my hands and went back through the doors of the ballroom to finish my test. I paused as I entered, looking at those around me. These were gifted clinicians, and probably very compassionate individuals, but they had failed to respond to one of their own.

I have pondered this experience several times as I read the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke Chapter 10:25-37. Of the three who passed by the injured man, who truly cared? I love verses 36 and 37 where the Lord asks who was the real neighbor and the lawyer answered “He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go and do thou likewise.”

I’m not sure exactly why I went to his aid--I in no way felt that I was the smartest or most talented in the group. I had, however, just spent ten years training and learning what to do in this exact moment and felt that I should utilize my abilities, out of a sense of duty and compassion. Perhaps it was because I had a mother who cared for me and listened to my endless adventures after I got home from school. Maybe it was a father who taught me how to work and that service to others did not just occur between the hours of 9-5. They taught me the stories of Jesus: how he healed the sick, performed miracles, and gave freely of himself. These things and many others formed my childhood and gave me confidence in my adult life.

Imagine a Christmas season where we are true neighbors and friends, and where we freely act upon our impulses to show compassion and love to our fellow man. Not trying to keep score about who provided the best or the most Christmas cheer. May we be a good neighbor and do likewise by providing meaningful service.

If you’re unsure where to start, search on your smart phone #LightTheWorld. You will find some short videos providing ideas of simple service you can provide this season. May we keep Christ in our mind this Christmas season is my humble prayer.

John Boston is a local physician and also serves in the Alaska Air National Guard. He and his family live in the valley, where he also volunteers for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.