Tagging

I'm so excited about going to CME tomorrow because I get to go back to Queen Elizabeth and miss the morning rounds at Likas! And also because I hope to catch a glimpse of certain people that I'm missing terribly.

Paeds suck big time. I'm just not cut out for it. Blood-taking is the worst bit. The workload is surprisingly not as much as surgery, not even half the load, but it's 10-fold more stressful because of the hostility and the distrust and the ego, and the need to prove oneself to be better than the other (among the MOs).

"Don't bother writing all those down, trust me, no one is going to read your notes" I was told by a superior.

Fine lor.

"Papa, betulkah papa tidak ada sini masa doktor buat round?" The child's dad noded.

That was after I just told the "superior" that the dad wasn't there when I was doing my rounds.

Why would I lie? Nothing to gain. I just don't get it. I can tolerate any unreasonable scolding, but this utter distrust is very hurtful.

I hope the bitch rot in hell.

Anyways, despite how much I always thought I dislike children, I find myself feeling weak in my knees and tears feeling up to the brim of my lower eye lids every time I see a ill child or when I have to prick a scared child, or when the child is crying in pain when I'm drawing blood from him.

I cannot help feeling frustrated when there's no blood for a thalassaemic child with Hb of 2.4 in heart failure.

I cannot forget how 4-year-old little Muhd. was bargaining with me not to prick him for blood.

"Tak nak jarum besar. Nak jarum kecil saja"... cry.... cry...

"Tak nak cucuk sini, sakit..."... cry... cry....

"Tak nak cucuk jarum... tolong mak... anak takut mak..."... cry... cry...

I took my time to find the perfect vein. 1 poke. Thank God.

Then I asked Muhd. to share the EDTA bottle, which he took eagerly from me and started vigorously shaking, quite happily, with his wet eyes and tear-stained face.

There's this one very naggy and "scoldy" specialist who doesn't speak, but scolds, all the time. She'll be screaming at us at every bed.

"What sort of rounds are you guys doing?"

"You guys really disappoint me..."

"You guys really make me feel like I fail as a specialist..."

"How can you guys let this happen?"

Then one 5-year-old boy in the ward with antibiotic-related rash, obviously affected by the specialist "heat", told his mum,

"Mummy, can we give doctor an ice-cream if she's angry?"

And the mum just chuckled and told the specialist, who turned red and gave a very fake laugh to cover her embarassment, I imagine.

PADAN muka. :D

I still cannot / don't know how to "Play" with a child. Some of my colleagues are a natural. I treat the child like an adult, especially the school-going ones. I explain the procedures step-by-step to them, and so far I find all of them quite responsive and very intelligent.

Ok, stopping here for now. Very tired.