Let me tell you about this person that I just got to know. A young, paediatric doctor. He is quiet and looks a bit on the serious side. But you should see him when he handles the little ones. He says a very quiet hi and one hand gently clasps the baby's hand, and his other hand laid on the forehead. Around his stethoscope is also a harmless-looking pink torniquet. And he used to carry around his Superman pen for the children to play with while he examines them, until he lost it that is. Adept hands that palpates, all the while reassuring the scared child. He is the epitome of gentleness. As I stand beside him, observing him while he writes in the case notes during the rounds, I wonder how is this person still standing given the personal grief that is still too recent it must still hurt. . . He smiles and there's the occassional chuckle. He is very good at what he's doing, and he is obviously a caring person. It's rare that you can say that about a doctor I think, when the diagnoses sometimes can get a bit impersonal, so it's understandable that one can't pay attention to absolutely everyone. But the feeling that I get from this doctor is that he gives every patient a bit of him, that personal touch, that extra length so it shows that he really cares. Still I question at the end of the day, how is he still doing this? . . This person has just lost a sibling, and it's tragic when they die young innit. But he carries on ever so normally I did wonder if he felt anything at all. But a few days ago, I stumbled upon something personal (not that one can keep online things personal for long), it was a letter from him to his now-gone brother. Then I knew, behind that masked exterior is also a grieving heart. . . There is a lot that I have to learn from this person, I think. Like how to continue comforting when your heart too needs comforting. How to continue giving when you're running on empty. How to smile when your heart is bleeding. How to remain standing when you just want to drop down on the floor and bawl. There is much strength in his character that it astounds me, and the fact that he bears all in silence. I, myself, was feeling a bit blue yesterday over a personal matter. But then I remembered this person, so I pulled myself together, I stood a little taller and my heart a little lighter. The Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing I shall want. Despite things running off tangents, I will be happy. . . We all have our own personal Goliaths that we have to defeat. I thank God for yet another person in my working life who has inspired me in my daily little crosses. He is aptly named after that biblical character, I think. Plus, I'm beginning to really like it here in the paeds ward. Once in a while, while clerking cases, a little one would wander in my direction. I would stop what I was doing and I'd play with the kid for a while. It's nice working in a place like that.