As Seigan Glassing walked down the sterile, white hospital corridor, he thought of a poem written by well-known Zen master Kozan Ichikyo shortly before his death.
Empty handed I entered
The world
Barefoot I leave it
My coming, my going —
Two simple happenings
That got entangled.
Seigan paused outside one of the identical doors of the neurological unit, marked only with a number. He mulled over the words of the poem, letting them mingle, listening to their rhythm, refocusing. He was tired but not exhausted, nearing the end of his hospital shift. He straightened his dark scrubs and ran his hand over his clean-shaven head before adjusting his glasses.
As he entered the room he met a scent of flowers. The night lights of the city spilled in through the window and 57-year-old Cleo (as she was named in her hospital transcript), her head heavily bandaged, held out her hand to greet him. Her long, dark hair was streaked with grey and she lay propped up in her hospital bed.
“You’re the Buddhist chaplain aren’t you? I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. “Please sit down. Do you have some time for me?”
“Of course,” Seigan said, taking a seat next to her. “Tell me how you’re doing, how you’re feeling right now.”
Cleo was admitted to the hospital after suffering a major seizure one day while doing her laundry. A brain biopsy a few weeks later revealed a glioblastoma, an aggressive and malignant form of brain cancer. The surgeon laid out the prognosis, cut and dried: she had less than three months to live. He urged her to go ahead with surgery and a chemotherapy follow-up. It would give her perhaps an extra nine months to a year, he said, but ultimately the cancer was terminal. Cleo explained how, despite her initial reaction to let nature take its course, she felt she should go ahead with the surgery for the sake of her 87-year-old mother, who was devastated by the diagnosis.
Seigan listened carefully.
“Can I challenge you for a little bit?” he asked. “What do you really want?” Continue reading
Sources
- The Atlantic
- Image: Sir Tony Baldry