Renowned ophthalmologist tells how cardinal’s death altered his life

Joo Choun-ki

President of St. Mary’s Center

Joo Choun-ki is one of the most reputable and prolific eye surgeons in Korea. Every year, he performs surgery more than 1,000 times, including some 70 cornea transplants. He played a pivotal role in helping Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital cement its position as the best institution for eye disease treatment in the country.

Everyone dies, whether rich or poor, famous or unknown. When Cardinal Stephen Kim Sou-hwan died in 2009, this simple fact of life hit ophthalmologist Joo Choun-ki like never before. Joo immediately transplanted the late cardinal’s corneas into two recipients at Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital, in accordance with the cardinal’s will. Kim was one of the most respected spiritual leaders in Korea. “A rosary on his wrist and his two corneas were all he left behind,” Joo said in an interview. “To me, his death was a powerful message that made me think about what I should fill the remainder of my life with. Since then, I have tried to focus on doing things that really matter.” Kim often told him that he should become a doctor who can brighten the world. “I pondered his words more after his death,” Joo said. Later that year, Joo went to Kenya to help children with cataracts, a clouding of the usually clear lens of the eye. Volunteer work used to be somewhere near the bottom of his post-retirement to-do list, but over the past few years, it has increasingly become an important part of his life. His experience in the African country was — literally and figuratively — eye-opening both for the children and himself. He saw many children who lost their sight because of preventable causes and who remained untreated owing to lack of access to proper medical help. “Children lived in dust-filled shelters without a chimney, and people made a fire inside the shelters. It was no surprise that cataracts were much more common in the country,” he said.  Thanks to his efforts at Kericho Hospital, 18 children regained their vision. Treating them was tough; there were few sanitary places, proper anesthetic and other medical equipment, and not to mention, electricity.

But when Joo saw the surprise and smile on the children’s faces and their mothers’ sincere gratitude, he realized that everything was worthwhile. Cataracts are some of the eye diseases he has studied throughout his career. Cataracts are the most common eye diseases among people 65 years or older in many developed nations. A cataract occurs when protein builds up in the eye’s lens, making it cloudy and preventing light from passing effectively through the lens. Although aging is the biggest cause of the disease, in developing countries, many cases are attributed to eye infections brought about by the environment. Cataracts are responsible for 51 percent of world blindness. But many people remain blind due to a lack of medical access. He pursued excellence all his life and grew into one of the most renowned ophthalmologists in Korea. Now Joo said he wants to be a good doctor rather than an excellent one. His volunteer work in Kenya prompted him to make this belief his new motto, but Joo also knew that living up to the motto would be hard. So to remind himself of what kind of life he wanted to live, he wrote a book, “Let Me Show You the World,” which was published in 2011. “No human being is free of worldly desires. This book is not an autobiography. Rather, it is an expression of my will to live a life for others than myself,” he wrote in the book.

Life as a battle

Joo was born in 1956. His parents reached only elementary school and wanted their children to get more education than they did. He took their wishes as a challenge. He did well in class. But he always thought he did less than what he could and should have. From time to time, he dreamed about becoming a taxi driver because he thought a driver’s life “looked free and his work schedule appeared to be flexible.” But of course, he never said this dream to anyone. As a high school student, Joo didn’t plan to go to the Catholic University of Korea College of Medicine; he wanted to study engineering, but his parents wanted him to become a doctor. His passion for medicine started to grow after meeting good teachers who truly believed in his potential. They put their faith in him, and he did not want to disappoint them. Joo graduated sixth in his class, but he was not accepted at the school’s department of ophthalmology, which he wanted to specialize in. Cronyism was rampant in many parts of Korea at that time. It took more than just good grade to be “chosen” by a department’s chief professor, and he just didn’t have the required connections. The opportunity finally came three years after finishing his military service. Thinking that he was already a step behind his peers, he pushed himself harder. For six months of his training, Joo deliberately used his left hand a lot, thinking that ambidexterity would be an advantage. Yet life continued to throw him more curveballs. He could not pursue his master’s degree in ophthalmology as he wished; instead, he had to study biochemistry. But doing so turned out to be the best thing that happened to him, as it gave him the opportunity to study under Professor Shim Bong-seok, one of the most renowned Korean experts in the field, Joo said. “The two-year training was so hard, but the knowledge I gained from him later helped me grow beyond being a clinical doctor. It was especially helpful when I studied the immunology of corneal transplantation at Washington University in St. Louis under Jay S. Pepose,” he said. After completing his studies in the United States, where for two years he trained in corneal transplantation with more than 700 mice and published three papers in international journals, Joo returned to Korea and became one of the very few Korean ophthalmologists who had both clinical and research expertise. Many were surprised when he won a government grant for corneal endothelial cell research in 1994; it was very rare for clinical eye doctors to win government research grants. From there, his career took off. As the chief ophthalmologist at Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital, he helped the hospital cement its position as the best medical institution for eye diseases in Korea. About 20 percent of the country’s corneal transplants are performed in the hospital alone. Meanwhile, he has published more than 100 papers in international journals, and has performed eye surgery eight to 10 times almost every day over the past 20 years. He is a member of the Korean Academy of Science and Technology, the nation’s most renowned science and technology think-tank. He has also served as the dean of his alma mater, the Catholic University of Korea College of Medicine, since 2013. “I’m already 60 years old now. From now on, I want to do things that really matter and give me joy. Life is too short to sacrifice for things that I might not get,” he said.