We think so highly of ourselves, the human race.
You can see this arrogance in the hospitals. Doctors with years of experience under their belts take every procedure like a challenge, another level in the video game, to beat. At least in video games, you can unlock achievements. In the medical world, it’s just something to boast about at dinner.
Defeating human ailments is the ultimate superpower. To turn off someone’s self destruct mode is incredible indeed. Much like the self-assured superheroes, our doctors wander the wards and theatres looking for the enemy.
It’s stupidly arrogant. Humans can do a whole lot, but they can’t pull the strings.
we are incapable of planning to a timescale we have no knowledge of.
Every now and again, there’s a doctor that is so bizarrely human. They empathise and care from a human heart, not the clinical one. They make every attempt to do something that will help the patient, regardless about the effect it will have. They don’t think ”Is it worth carrying out this long and tedious procedure on a man that will never be cured?”, they think ”what can I do with my skills to ease this man’s pain?”.
I call this streak ”the human factor”. It’s unusual, a quirk and uncommon in a hospital. Patients are reduced to another item on a to-do list, another rung on the ladder to consultancy.
The leaps and bounds we’ve made becomes the focus, and we forget what actually brought us there in the first place. The human spirit, this weird, unidentifiable empathy and desire to do something, even if it’s almost nothing at all, to alleviate the struggles of another person. That’s what makes us, even if I do say so myself, great.
You don’t care anymore, you say. You can get through it, you tell yourself. It doesn’t bother you anymore, you’re telling everyone else. The wounds may have closed but you still suffer from the human factor. It’s not a bad thing to feel.
For it is the human factor that has kept us alive this long.