Chess in Medicine

The tapping jazz of clocks accompanies silence. My opponent sits across from me, with only the chess board between us. Eight years ago, marked a memorable accomplishment. Ever since I was four, I had been learning the art of playing chess. But what was special about this match wasn't my ability to see hours of dedication culminate into a win. What made it special was my opponent, “Henry.” This was the first time I faced a new challenge, for “Henry” was blind.

Before our game, he assembled an exquisite chess set with braille pieces. In the beginning, I felt uncertain about this game. After all, how could someone play without sight? But throughout the match, what amazed me was how Henry did not let this disability deter him. He would play the moves on his board, voice record movements, and I would play both our moves on a separate board. Playing with “Henry” presented me with a challenge, not in the physical sense, but through my mental beliefs. He showed me the importance of the innate value in accepting diversity.

This was my first experience at truly seeing the art of chess. Finally, as “Henry’s” king toppled, I began to really question the purpose of chess. “Henry” did not play to win; he played to enjoy the game. “Henry's” life paralleled to a game of chess: his loss in sight meant he had to deal with challenges similar to how each game contributed to over 10^120 unique situations. This experience made me put “Henry’s” interest in the game above my interest in simply winning. It motivated me to become an advocate for equal representation by my efforts to organize small chess tournaments for children regardless of ability. Chess is more than a game. Like medicine, it heals, wielding patience, understanding, and commitment.

As a second-year medical student, these are skills that I use every single day in the wards and in the classroom. Just like no two chess games are the same, so is every patient encounter I have had as well. Rather than just solving patient cases, medicine for me has been about developing rapport with my patients and building lasting relationships, both on and off the board. My career in medicine may just be beginning, but just like any good chess game, a crucial opening is essential to a successful middle and end game. Just as two pawns may sometimes swap positions (known as en passant), I know "Henry" and I certainly will end up crossing paths again one day, whether that may at another tournament or in the clinic. A game of chess or life for that matter truly does come full circle.