Muse: Stethoscope

Our preaching lecturer asked us last year... to think of ourselves as preachers... and then describe (and explain) the mental images that came to our minds. If there was an object (or animal) to portray what we thought of ourselves, all the better. 

I remember a friend saying that he saw himself as a boat... which was going to whisk drowning flood victims off to safe grounds!

I remember our lecturer saying that he saw himself as an artist... who would interpret whatever he perceived of the world around him or contemporary situations through careful observation and contemplation... in the form of creative masterpieces that would inspire, comfort or infuse his audience with a call to action.

Whoa. Paint with divine perspective the vision and make it plain. Something like that.

I remember myself trying to explain to a small group why I saw myself as a stethoscope - but I won't reiterate what I said that day here. I am quite shy in person - and thus, I don't express myself too well when I am to be verbally spontaneous. 

Stethoscope.

I didn't have very good first experiences with this auscultation device. The ear-pieces hurt... and once they dug into my ear canals, I felt trapped and isolated in a world which boomed with the internal sounds of the human body that my stethoscope amplified - especially that of the heart. Those were mysterious and frightening sounds that thundered in my ears and threatened to split my brain into many halves (or at least the drama queen in me thought so). I was to learn those sounds well - what normal sounded like and what the abnormalities implied. Toward my final year in medical school, my stethoscope became a good and reliable friend (fortunately for my exams). It was not just a companion to be worn around my neck during ward rounds; it also allowed my trained ears to distinguish the unhealthy from the healthy as well as decipher the language sick bodies express. My auscultation findings contributed great clues to my every quest of arriving at differential diagnoses.

As I was cleaning my stethoscope today, I thought: what if my stethoscope were a person? What would he need to do to keep debris (dust and the listener's ear wax) from finding a way into his inner workings and thus preventing his listeners from hearing correctly? Since every part of a stethoscope is important to its efficiency in sound transmission (loose parts or broken pieces can compromise the airtight seal which the stethoscope requires), how would he deal with his brokenness and baggages so that they do not interfere with or distort the message conveyed? My stethoscope would need to have surface anatomy at his fingertips, as where one listens will determine what one hears. In other words, he would need to ensure that his listener auscultates at the most relevant points, i.e. where the transmitted sounds can be best heard. It would be even better if he could do something about the distracting ambient noises which interfere with his listener's ability to listen to what matters most.... but maybe, I am asking a bit too much.   

The preacher as a stethoscope that amplifies God's heartbeat to His listeners... Ah, perhaps, I could write a book on that someday. 

From the length of this blog post, you can probably tell that I am done with my paper (the very final one too) and am very happy. Hurrrrrrrray!!!