One year

One year ago.

One year ago today, I stepped out of my sixth floor apartment in Taiyuan, not knowing what to expect from this day.

One year ago today, I stepped into my first class ...

One year ago today, I met my babies.

And my life changed forever.

Today, right this moment, my babies are beginning second grade.

They are beginning second grade.

And I'm not there.

They have a new foreign teacher.

And my heart is breaking.

I would give anything to be there with them right now. Watching them walk to class in their lines, holding hands, smiling.

There are so many things going through my mind right now. Like, "I wonder if they remember me." "I wonder if their new foreign teacher is nice." "I wonder if they'll dance to the same songs we danced to last year." "I wonder if they've gotten taller this summer." "I wonder if they are wearing those adorable uniforms." "I wonder if they are asking where I am." "I wonder if Dustin is still the class monitor for Class 3." "I wonder if class 4 is still as bad as they were last year or if Yi Lao Shi is cracking down on them." "What if they are crying for their parents? Who can comfort them?" "I wonder if Bruce and Jude are still having their power struggle in Class 4."

I'm supposed to be studying right now. But instead I'm looking through pictures of my babies. My beautiful, precious, annoying, frustrating, talkative, loving, hilarious, hyper, crazy babies. And I'm weeping.

I'm weeping because I miss them. I miss hearing them call out my name "Meesa Lindsay! Meesa Lindsay!" I miss their hugs, their kisses, their love.

One year ago, today, these babies changed my life. Changed it forever.


One year ago today, I met a little boy, a little boy named Li Tian Ho. And I didn't know it then, but he would soon become the one person in China I loved the most. Somehow he grabbed hold of my heart and he never let go.

The first time I met him

The last time I saw my precious boy

Today, my heart is not here. Today my heart is in Taiyuan, at Shanxi Modern Bilingual School, at Section 3.

One year.

I will never forget.

The med school chapter

So I’ve been debating and debating on whether or not I should start a new blog while I’m in med school or just keep this one up and going.

My reason for starting a new blog would be that the China chapter, the big interruption in my life, has ended. I didn’t see med school as an interruption … it was the perfectly normal path my life was supposed to take.

Or so I thought before China.

Now, it’s almost like med school is interrupting China. Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled beyond belief to be here. It is an honor and a privilege to study the human body, one that I humbly accept. Every day I wake up and I say to myself, “Is this real life?”

It is real life. As surreal as it is to sit in a classroom of 165, learning with the best and the brightest, to have my hands inside a real human body in Anatomy Lab, to be studying the most fascinating aspect of God’s creation … this is my reality.

Last week I stood with my classmates and was “sworn in” to the study of medicine. It was one of the most precious moments of my life, because out of the corner of my eye, there stood my Dad, reciting the Hippocratic Oath with me and the other students and the physicians in the room. Tears came to my eyes at that moment because it dawned on me the responsibility I was taking on, the one I have watched my Dad carry for my entire life.

People joke that I was born to be a doctor. I used to believe that.

But now I understand that I was not born to be a doctor. I was called to be a doctor. There’s a distinct difference. Yes one could say medicine is in my blood, passed down from my Dad and the result of having two volumes of medical records by the time I was ten years old.

But it’s not a birthright. It’s a calling. Or rather, it’s part of my calling.

I was not born to be a doctor.  I was born to be a servant of the Most High, to glorify Him in all that I do, to serve Him above everything else. And I am privileged enough that the way I get to do that is through the art of healing.

That’s where my focus needs to be. On Him. Him alone.

Every day here my heart is torn. I am loving being in medical school, but I am missing China terribly. Med school is now interrupting my China life.

So I’m not going to start a new blog. This one is going to be both the China blog and the med school blog.

Because after all, they’re both life interruptions. But then again, they’re not.

And that’s a God thing.

Getting my white coat. I'm on the far right in the gray dress.

My beautiful parents. Couldn't have made it here without them

Full Circle

Today is the day I receive my white coat.

Today is the day I stand with my 164 classmates and say the Hippocratic Oath.

Today the China chapter ends.

One year ago today, I was in Beijing, China, dreading a year in that crowded, dirty, crazy country. Praying I would survive to make it to this day.

Now that day is here. And now, I look forward to the day when I can return to serve in China as an M.D., if Father wills it.

The year has come full circle now. The best, hardest year of my life.

And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

My heart goes to the people I love: my team, my babies, Dustin, Lee, Gavin, Tina, Zora, Vera, Nina, Jeff, Answer, Sonjie, Bourne, Connie, Yang, Gerry, Guo Ya Bin, my co-teachers, my Jenny and her family ...

Today I put on that white coat and take that oath, not for me. Not for my family. Not for my country. But for God. For China. For the people I will serve.

I know today, when I put that coat on for the first time, my heart will be in China.

And these faces, the faces of the people I love most in this world, will be the only faces I see.

Class 1

Class 2

Class 3

Class 4

Class 5

Class 6

Class 7

Class 8

And now, the China chapter of my life has ended. That interruption that I once hated ... is the best thing that ever happened to me.

Because I got to love those beautiful babies.  And they changed my life. Forever.

Steady Hands

Breathe ... just breathe ... Dad's right there ... you aren't going to kill anyone ... just don't mess this up ... breathe ... breathe ...

This was what I was internally saying to myself as I made my first cut into a living human being.

Warning: if you have a weak stomach, you might not want to read this post.

One of the purposes for the trip to Haiti was to do some medical work. Three docs, including my dad, were on the team. We had 3 days of clinic planned and ended up adding two half-days for minor surgeries.

First day of clinic, I worked with the docs, making sure they had the right meds to give to the patients and whatever else they needed. Also served as scrub nurse for my dad when he removed this weird thing off a guy's toe. There were so many people packed in the church, all of them waiting for hours to see the doctors. It was crazy.

The pharmacy

The docs getting set up

People waiting to see the docs

The OR-real high tech. That's how we roll

Working with my Dad

Around 3pm, Larry, our team leader, came up to me and said, "Hey can you see patients?"

My mouth dropped, and I said, "Wait what?!"

"Can you do it?"

I took a big breath and said, "Sure, no problem."

So they set me up with a translator, and I got to see about 36 patients in the space of two hours.

IT WAS AWESOME!

Of course, anything I didn't know, I would just ask the real docs or send the patient to see one of them. Usually my dad.

At the end of the clinic day, Larry came up to me and said, "Were you scared?"

I grinned and said, "Nope."

It was amazing, listening to people tell you what's wrong with them, examining weird rashes, seeing raging ear infections, fungal infections, scabies, listening to heartbeats and lungs, just helping people. I felt so alive, like I was actually making a difference.

The next day was surgery day. Dad was going to take this lipoma off an elderly man's hip. And guess who was his scrub nurse? ME!

It was so cool to see my dad in action like that, and to get to help him. He walked me through every step, showed me exactly what he was doing. It was so cool! The tumor was benign, praise Father. My exact words when Dad took the thing out were, "That is beautiful."

Beautiful isn't it?

Dad closing the wound up

Yes, I'm weird. I know.

The next day, we had clinic out in one of the poorest areas of Haiti. There were so many sick kids-it broke my heart. Chikungunya is wreaking havoc in Haiti. We had a kid come in with a 105 temp. Su, the nurse on the team, took him out and gave him a cold bath, trying to bring his temp down. He was so sick. But he was a trooper.

That day out in the bush, my dad took a cyst off a woman's hand. The poor lady was so scared, but one of our teammates held her hand and comforted her. Before my dad made his first cut, he bowed his head in silent prayer to the Great Physician. It was one of the most precious moments of my life, watching my Dad pray over his procedure.

After that day of clinic, dad told me he was going to let me glove up for the surgeries on Friday. Oh and he said he would let me cut and then close.

To say I was ecstatic would be the understatement of the century. The night before the procedures, he taught me how to do an interrupted stitch so I would kind of know what I was doing the next day.

The first patient Friday morning was a young guy who hd a cyst on his forehead, right near his scalp. Dad did the cutting and the dissection on the cyst. Once it was out, I gloved up and prepared to close. It was 3 simple stitches, but it was AWESOME!!!!

Me and my Dad before surgery on Friday

Su setting up the OR

Holding the needle driver and the forceps, I was terrified for a moment. But once that needle went through the skin, all my fears went away.

Our second surgery was removing a lipoma from a woman's shoulder.

After Dad numbed her shoulder with lidocaine and epinephrine, I glove up and picked up the scalpel.

And I made my first cut.

Cutting

There's a kind of rush you get while holding a scalpel. For me, it was the most natural, normal thing in the world to hold that blade. Of course I was nervous that I would make a mistake. But Dad was right there, ready to jump in if I messed up.

Gotta do the China pose in surgery

Stitching

It almost felt like I was 5 years old again, learning to ride my bike without training wheels. Dad was standing right next to me, coaching me as I cut down to the tumor. And when I was having trouble holding the forceps, he said, "Hold them like you do chopsticks." And I got it. Thank you China.

One thing he said to me was probably one of the greatest compliments I've ever received. As I cut, he said, "Linz, you have steady hands."

Steady hands. Father gave me steady hands. Now what am I going to do with them?

For the longest time, I've been convinced I was meant for pediatric oncology. But down in Haiti, cutting and stitching, Father showed me another path. Holding that scalpel, sending the needle through skin-it felt so right.

Father gives us each our own passions, our own gifts. He gave me the drive, the love for medicine, he steady hands. And through working with my Dad down in Haiti, through cutting and stitching, He's shown me what I can do for Him, for His people, for the lost, poor, and sick.

How can I say no to Him? For a little while after China, I wasn't sure medicine was my calling anymore. I was so confused, so heart-broken.

Then He sent me to Haiti, where I got to learn from 3 amazing physicians, where I got to cut and stitch, where I got to serve a desperately poor people.

It's what He wants me to do.

In two days, I start orientation for medical school. The China chapter is ending. For now. And the med school chapter is beginning.

Let's do this thing!

After my first surgery-Thanks Dad and Su!!!