A Test of Integrity
Labeling every bag of decocted herbs with the patient's name was a measure we introduced last year to keep patients from drinking the wrong medicine — we were proud to be the only clinic in the city doing it. Then, in a moment's haste, an employee misapplied a label, the verifier happened to be at lunch, and by the time the mistake was caught the medicine had already been taken home.
It was a child's prescription. On checking, the wrongly issued medicine was broadly similar to the right one — taking it would do no harm, and the patient would never have noticed. Notify the family right away, or pretend not to know and let it go? Integrity is a matter of conscience. We have all heard of doctors who, having botched a surgery, tell the patient "the operation was a success" — "we just discovered a new problem; we'll need another procedure." We have all seen pharmacies that know they've issued the wrong drug and will not chase, will not exchange, will not make it right, so long as the patient is in the dark.
Faced with this, what would Pingxintang do? Admit the error? Wasn't that asking for trouble? Would the family ever trust us again? Would it not ruin Pingxintang's reputation? It was the very employee at fault who spoke for all of us: "If it were my own child, what would I do? Whatever the fine, we have to get the medicine back!" Sun Simiao, in On the Absolute Sincerity of Great Physicians, says: "Do not ask whether they are noble or base, rich or poor, old or young, comely or plain, enemy or kin, friend or foe, Chinese or foreign, foolish or wise — treat all as one, as if each were your closest kin." "Treat all as if your closest kin" is the one creed we follow.
The family turned around on the Beijing-Mi expressway and came back. They accepted our apology and forgave the mistake. We had passed a test of integrity, and our hearts were truly at ease.
Beijing Pingxintang TCM Clinic