Reflection

Still raining non stop.

Back from hitting the gym. Nothing beats sweating it out on the threadmill to Prodigy's Breath/ Firestarter/ Smack My Bitch Up.

Thupa-Thump-Thump of the bass synchronizing with every forceful beat of my heart, ejecting pulse after pulse of the lifestream across my body.

I feel alive. As always after a good run.

If only the chaotic orchestra that is the flashing lights and irate beepings of the cardiac monitors/ SP02 machines/ Ventilators/ Infusion pumps whatchamacallit could induce the same kind of adrenaline rush as what I experience back on the mill. Somehow it's such an irony that I don't experience the same 'fight or flight' response when theoretically I should be at an all time high ie. actively resuscitating patients/ running for the intubation set/ setting an emergency line etc etc. Most of the time I'd either be like 'oh, dang'/ 'er, staff nurse, patient mane yer?'/ doing my best Moose impersonation down to the very last 'Du-uh??'.

I think my adrenaline delivery system is a little haywired. Or maybe my brain's just fried. Wrong reactions to wrong signals. If I were a dog and Pavlov were to ring his bell, I would probably start leaking body fluids all over the floor, albeit most probably from other more embarrassing sources.

It's not that I don't care. I guess I'm just blase with the whole dying thing. Being surrounded by too much death and decay is literally eating away at my soul. And my humanity I think.

Felt absolutely shite at work today. Involuntarily grumbled a bit when the Specialist ordered ten thousand investigations and scans and taps and whatnot for all patients in my cubicle. Six patients only but it felt like I might as well had sixty. Somehow managed to complete most of the chores with a long face by 430pm. Had a little incident at work before off duty (refer to previous post).

Reflecting on today's work attitude.

When was the last time I did something truly for the benefit and well-being of my patients, for the sake of them achieving what they initially came here for - to be treated and cured of what ails them? When was the last time I've actually set an IV line with the sincere wish that my patient will receive her medication on time? Or the last time I called the Psy MO to refer a case stat so that my patient's suffering can be alleviated as soon as possible?

Shame.

Patients have become like a personal dartboard; each successful branula is another bullseye notched down on an imaginary score card. And each successful referral is another successful early discharge so that I can kick back and goyang my kakies earlier in the day.


What have I become??



Gotta get back in touch with myself.

Being the not-so-ambitious person that I am, I shall not dare resolute to making too drastic a change in too short a time. Saying that I shall hence forth treat each and every single patient like I would my own flesh and blood from this very second on, is just total bollocks. I'll just start off with trying not to hate my job from today on. Actually, well, I love my job. I just hate the way I have to carry it out. So there.

Here's hoping tomorrow will be a better day. If not for me, at least for the chubby popeye-armed Makciks residing in lil' cubicle 4 Wad 3 Hospital Kajang.

Anyway, gotta work on the iPod playlist - Air Supply's All Out Of Love coming up suddenly at speed 10 on the threadmill does wonders at throwing you off beat and, god forbid, off balance - all this which could result in a massive 'thud' followed by lots of blood spurting all over the place. Not nice.

Good night.