The Doctor and Numbness to Pain

**Summary:** A story about a doctor facing the risk of becoming numb to his patients' suffering, and the lesson on preserving compassion from Buddhist teachings.

It was a late autumn morning, and the provincial hospital clinic was already packed. The sharp smell of disinfectant mingled with the cries of children and the groans of the elderly. Dr. Hung sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on a prescription, his hand writing rapidly. Before him was a middle-aged man, his face pale green, hands clutching his stomach, beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Doctor, the pain... it's been hurting since last night..." the man said, his voice hoarse.

Dr. Hung did not look up. He asked curtly, "Where is the pain? What kind of pain? Do you have a fever?"

The patient answered, but Dr. Hung seemed not to hear. He had heard those same words hundreds of times in a single month. Every day, he met dozens of patients, all in pain, all suffering, all pleading. But after fifteen years in the profession, his heart had grown callous. The initial feeling of sorrow from his early days as a medical student—when he once told his family, "I care for the sick, I have chosen medicine"—had faded like a distant memory.

That evening, Dr. Hung sat alone in his room, gazing out the window. The image of an elderly female patient from that morning came to his mind. He had snapped at her, "You talk too much! I told you to lie down, so lie down. Just answer my questions, don't ramble!" The old woman had fallen silent, tears rolling down her cheeks. He felt an emptiness inside. He suddenly recalled a colleague's words: "Suffering is the ladder for the talented, but the abyss for the weak." He wondered: was he climbing up or falling down?

The next day, Dr. Hung happened to meet an elderly monk who came for a check-up. The monk looked at him with kind eyes and said, "Doctor, I see you are weary. Have you ever asked yourself why you chose this profession?"

Dr. Hung was taken aback. He replied, "Venerable Sir, when I was young, I cared for the sick and wanted to help them. But now... I feel I have become numb. I am afraid."

The monk smiled gently. "Doctor, love is like a flame; if it is not nurtured every day, it will die out. The patients who come to you carry both physical and mental pain. If you only see them as cases, your heart will wither. But if each day, you practice seeing them as human beings who are suffering, and feeling their pain as your own, then compassion will grow."

Dr. Hung was silent for a long time. He recalled his early days of study, when he stayed awake through the night reading, when he wept at a patient's passing. He asked, "Venerable Sir, how can I keep that love alive?"

The monk replied, "Every morning, before you see your first patient, pause for one minute. Close your eyes, contemplate their suffering, and vow to treat them with all your love. Every evening, before you sleep, review your day, see if you treated anyone poorly, and correct your ways. This is the daily practice of compassion."

From that day on, Dr. Hung changed. Each morning, he devoted five minutes to sitting quietly, breathing deeply, and reciting, "Today, I will heal with my heart, not just with my knowledge." When meeting patients, he tried to look into their eyes, to listen to their stories without interrupting. He practiced feeling their pain as if it were the pain of his own family. Gradually, he felt lighter; his work was no longer a burden. The patients sensed this change—they trusted him more and cooperated better with their treatment.

Many years later, Dr. Hung became a respected physician. Not only for his excellent skills, but for his kindness. He often told his interns, "Medicine is not just a science; it is a profession of the heart. If you let your heart become numb, you will lose half the value of being a doctor. Nurture the flame of compassion every day, for it is the only thing that will make you a saintly healer in the hearts of your patients."

**Meaning of the Story**

This story reminds those in the medical profession that facing the suffering of others daily, if they do not know how to preserve and nurture compassion, they will gradually become numb. The noble value of medicine is human love. The method of daily compassion practice—by pausing, feeling, and correcting—is how a doctor can heal not just the body, but also uplift their own moral character, moving closer to the virtue of the saints.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang.