In the beginning

The was a LSC dentist dinner last Monday. I’m not particularly fond of social events but I attended anyway. It was a nice event with a few highlights.

1. Prof. Lim Cheung also attended LSC, surprisingly.

2. I met Luki and had a quality chat with him.

3. Another surprise: Martin’s dad also came and we chatted for a while too.

4. The event was held in Cordis Hotel’s Chinese restaurant. The whole dinner was sponsored by GSK; we didn’t have to pay a penny. I never realized being a dentist can be so convenient: a medical supplies company would sponsor a private event. Perhaps next time when there’s Group 5.6 re-U dinner, I should ask P&G to sponsor us.

Many dentists, old and young, were invited to give some sharing. Luckily I wasn’t one of them. But this made me wonder: what would I have said had I been invited to speak?

It should go something like this:

I finished my MFDS exams earlier this year. I’ve forgotten most of the knowledge I studied during the exams, but one thing that made an impression was about showing empathy. Our patients come to see us for a reason. Solving dental problems is one of them, but what makes them think we’re good dentists is when we stand in their shoes and perhaps say something that will somehow lessen the pain they feel. It’s a dentist’s job to offer hope, to share the notion that losing one tooth is not the end of the world, but the beginning of a (costly) journey towards oral health.

This led to the second important message: what’s my advice having practised dentistry for four years?

Four words: 毋忘初衷. I guess this is something like SJ’s “stay hungry, stay foolish.” When I just started, I wanted to get everything done perfectly. Every cavity should be filled precisely; every root canal should be negotiated down to the correct working length; every crown margin should have exactly 1mm smooth chamfer. But very often we just performed inferiorly, feeling 力不從心. After four years our clinical skills should have improved, and we work more quickly. It’s easy to fall into this trap: speed is everything; quality is secondary. No, that shouldn’t be the case. As our skills improve we should endeavour to perform every procedures precisely. We shouldn’t forget what we strived for in the beginning.

Well luckily I wasn’t invited to speak. Otherwise everyone’d think I’m a fool.

PS When I was chairman of Western Culture Club I organized a “western lunch gathering” and invited Brother Thomas to the event too. There was a quiz towards the end of the lunch, and Peter Ball asked this question: what are the first three words in the Holy Bible. No one was aware of that, not even BT. The answer? “IN THE BEGINNING God created the heavens and the earth.”

Back in reality

One usually says he’s back to reality after he’s been on a fantastic trip and has to go back to work. That’s not the case in this circumstance, though. I’m on my flight back from KL, having finished my exam, anxious about the results which isn’t due for one month. The thing is, I didn’t really enjoy KL, and I’m glad I’m going back to my beloved civilized city of Hong Kong.

The way I left reality was manifold. At the superficial level, KL was hell, so HK is a desirable reality. Little fascinated me in KL. My hotel room could be the single most attractive point of interest. The affordable prices in KL mean I could do luxury things in abundance: staying in Hilton, ordering room service, taking taxi/Uber when I travel, … On room service my friend @Johnson put it in a precise way: 你真係叫雞, when commenting on me ordering Hainannese chicken rice. Other than what’s mentioned, I didn’t really have other fascinating experience in this city. 

Another way I left reality, and in fact I’ve been doing this for the past couple of months, was how I prepared for exams.

There were eight candidates from HK in total. Our attitudes were quite different. Some having a busy clinical career just treated exam as another chore, spending little time on revision, and cared less about the outcome. Going to work and making money is on a much higher priority in their list. But for me and a few others, failure is not an option. I mean, I haven’t failed a single exam in my life, not even any key skill assessment, nor my driver’s license exam. This MFDS Part 2 couldn’t be an exception. And although some knowledge and skills tested in this exam were trivial, they were still of clinical relevance. So I spent a whole lot of efforts preparing for this exam since November, and in March I even took one-third of my time off for preparation/travelling to KL.

But this, I understand, is immature. I mean, I’m not in my late teens or early 20s. I’m in my late 20s, and I should be busy developing my career, working to form a family or something. Yet I spent so much time doing exams that won’t guarantee more money. This, alone, is unrealistic. 

What should I do then? Well, I’m going to enjoy life when I get back to HK. I’ll endeavour to make some money in April and May, then I’ll go to Sweden/Denmark in June. No, money is still not on the top of my list; life is. I know I’m going to hell, and I’ll regret that in my 40s. If my site survives another 15 years, I’ll read this, and I can’t wait to see how I feel about myself.