Wishes on Prayer Flags

The day he took off his badge, someone chased him in the hallway. "Director Chen, there is a patient calling for you." He didn't look back. A dying person wants to be buried in the sky in Lhasa and cannot be delayed by anything. Before the elevator door closed, he saw a white CT scan exposed in the medical record folder - he didn't take it. When he was leaving the hospital gate, a girl bumped into him. He lowered his head and said sorry and continued walking forward. Didn't look up at her. He met her again on the train. White skirt, ponytail, canvas bag with gardenia printed on it. She said she had a bucket list: to go to Lhasa to watch the sunrise, see sky burials, camp under the snow-capped mountains, and learn a Tibetan song. She said she had "many, many things to do," speaking as briskly as if she were reading from a shopping list. He accompanied her to Namtso, where the sapphire-like lake reflected the side of her face. I watched the sunrise over the Sky Burial Platform with her. When the golden light filled the valley, there was a light in her eyes. I accompanied her at the Everest base camp to count stars, sing off-key Tibetan songs, and tie a prayer flag filled with wishes. She said: "Thank you for walking this far with me." Then she disappeared. There was only a note in the room with crooked handwriting and a CT scan that had slipped out of the sketchbook. "I lied to you for so long. I have been sick. I bumped into you on the day you resigned. I originally wanted to see you for medical treatment. Then I met you again on the train. I felt that this was the last chance God gave me." When the medical records were passed over, she was twenty-four years old and had advanced osteosarcoma. In the surveillance screen, the girl he hit was standing behind him, raising her hand and waving towards his back, her mouth curved, smiling very softly. He squatted in the empty room and cried for a long time. Then she stood up, sent her sketchbook to her mother, put the letter "To Lin Zhi in Ten Years" into the innermost layer of her backpack, lit the incense, opened the window, and said good night to the brightest star. The prayer flags are still ringing in the wind. He looked down and saw the red rope on his wrist, the silver beads reflecting a small speck of light. It turns out that she has been his patient for a long time. It's just that he was late. Intention: Intention Healing is a two-way street - saving the person who is dying, saving the person who wants to die.