Saturday, June 26, 2010

The curse of the mobile

I was having my post call nap when I was woken by the shrill ring of my phone. I clambered out of bed, reached for it and looked at the display. It's the hospital.

Urgh.

Why is it that staff at the hospital think that just because I am reachable by dialling 10 numbers, that I would take the call?

Do you think I have nothing better to do?

Like for one instance, during a weekend when I unwisely picked up a call from the hospital, thinking that it MIGHT just be something important - and the nurse only wanted to ask me if she should remove the stitches on the patient's leg!

When I started to 'membebel', telling her off for disturbing me for something so trivial (after all, some patients turn up at the clinic with stitches STILL intact weeks after they were due to be removed - but that's another blog entry) - couldn't she have just asked the MO oncall? - she actually sounded 'merajuk' - as if I should be thankful for her!

So, now it's about an hour since the call came in and I am contemplating whether I should call the operator up and ask who tried to contact me in my post call daze. After all - it COULD be important.

On the other hand, it could be something silly and by not returning the call, I would be saving myself one telling off - I don't like telling my nurses off, despite what my reputation is amongst the nursing staff, you know.

Hmm - seriously lah....

Duit, do it...

My Abg teases me and say I love money more than I love him. I would deny it vehemently yet in a little corner of my heart, sometimes I think that is true.

Every week, I would log on to my internet banking account and check my account balance. Oncall allowance usually comes in about 2 weeks into the month, usually in with the medical report fees. Salary is usually 2 weeks after.

Al Hamdulillah, I've never found myself crossing off days on the calender waiting for the next pay day - but come salary day, I'd be jumping off the bed, switch on the PC and log on to my account. Seeing the increment in the balance would put me in a good mood the whole day. It's not much, but I know it allows me to spend things without wondering if I'd be able to survive till next pay. On top of that, it allows me to spend on my family without having to worry about credit card debts etc. Like getting a car with a driver while holidaying in Indonesia instead of relying on public transport. Or getting in Borobudur 'legally' - i.e. paying the tourist fees instead of trying to pass yourself off as a local - after all, they own it.

The secret - mainly because I've not much temptations over here. Shopping is limited to groceries and stuff for my furkids. Secondly, I personally think paying the 'zakat' helps increases your 'rezeki'.

But it is only money, I know. Money doesn't buy happiness but it sure does make life better.

and No, Abg, I do love you more than I love my bank account.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Somewhere, something

I've decided to go somewhere in life.

For the past 8 years, I've lived a life of a goal-less MO. I like what I do and despite being so exhausted at the end of some calls, I always find myself waking up and looking forward to go to work. I want to see what broken bones there are and how I can fix it. I want to see feet with abscesses and drain the pus away and make the patients feel better. Though I still do not enjoy telling patients that they need toes cut off, I actually savour the moment when the dead digits have been cut away, thus leaving the rest of the foot to heal.

I guess part of it is because I have a great colleague and an equally great boss and being in a small (albeit with specialist facilities) hospital means that I can at least still spend most lunch hours actually having lunch.

I remember watching my colleague plating a femur by himself for the first time and thinking, I want to do that too one day. I recall the day I had to do it on my own, how I was having palpitations and had to rely on my two MAs for traction before I could reduce the fracture site. Now everything comes automatically - skin, fascia, muscle, bone, screws, drain and skin again - that it feels like assembling a machine on a production line. I used to think 'Oh no not another femur, damn you silly teens and your motobikes!' but now it's 'Bring it on, I'll just fix you and throw you back into the water again'

I guess I'm kinda tired of coming home and living each day as I did the day before. Having holidays break up the routine a little bit but I'm getting itchy. I want a challenge! So, I have decided to do something with my life this year. Whether or not I will get the opportunity, I do not know but at least a few years on, I can't say that I haven't tried.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Who is the parent here?

Last weekend, a couple of scrawny 13 year olds was admitted to ward after sustaining a broken thigh bone each after getting involved in an accident.

One of them underwent an operating procedure to plate his thigh bone and was discharged this morning.

The other, who suffered an open fracture (meaning that there is a wound that communicates the environment with the insides of his thigh and the bone), underwent wound debridement and application of skeletal traction.

This morning, my boss was doing rounds and we were informed that the father wishes to bring his son home to see a traditional healer.

When asked why, the father said, "Because my son doesn't want to". He had no questions about what the chances are for healing or any risks of developing deformity - he is refusing the op because his scrawny 13 year old kid, who had no business riding a motorbike in the first place, doesn't want it.

No wonder I am living in a world where teens no longer have any respect for the elderlies.