Last weekend, I was home straightening my desk. I unintentionally spotted Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff by Richard Carlson, a book I bought when I was in Canada. I flipped through the book. I realized that I forgot all the things I have learnt from the book. As I opened the first page of my “Goals Proposal” notebook—stop complaining. And I have completely forgotten about it and done the opposite way. I tended to look for the cracks and flaw of life or the people around me. I think I have been sweating a lot with the small stuff recently. So, for this last journal, I decided to talk good.
This week is our last week’s posting in Sg. Buloh Hospital. Good or bad, I know I’ll miss every moment of it: I’ll miss the smiles on patients’ faces every time they see me; I’ll miss the contentment I get every time I learn something from the CI or staff nurses; I’ll miss the satisfaction I get every time I complete a mission, like changing patients’ clothes or bathing them; I’ll especially miss the relationships we have built up among the group members. Changing pampers for patients who have just passed motion is no fun, but doing it with another group member has made this job better.
Yes, we never stop giggling and—gagging—every time when we do the changing of pampers.
I’ll even miss the yummy waffles from the shop at the lobby.
My point of view about the nurses has slightly switched. I can see the possibly reason of the bad attitudes among the nurses. Think about it, I’m sure everybody loves helping and doing some charity works for people in need sometimes. A lot of student nurses say they loving nursing because they like helping people. However, the days of posting in the hospitals are temporary, and they have no long-term responsibilities about it. Posting is basically just like doing voluntary works. When this virtue is changed from voluntary to become an obligation, the meaning is altered along with it. Willingness and passion are no longer coming out from their hearts, but stress, boredom, apathy, and maybe displeasure. Unless you are very firm with your purpose, you will be like what most of the people are years after: lost of their initial aims and visions in their jobs. In order to prevent myself from turning someone that I really don’t want to be, I know I have to find an ultimate meaning from this job and stick with it. I guess I have to give my good friend in Canada a ring and ask her to give me a lesson about how could she still love her job as a nurse 5 years after. If Mother Teresa is still alive, maybe I should write her a letter.
Since our CI Ms Poh Poh did an evaluation about everyone of us, I think I should evaluate her performance as well. She is a very strict CI. There’s no doubt about the experiences and knowledge she acquired after so many years of nursing, and I admire that. I can see a lot of similarities between her and myself. We both live our lives with strong principles. We both are sometimes being very “difficult” to other people. We both sometimes get angry without really looking into the truth. However the differences are, I’m more open-minded, that I know there’s more than one way—my way—of doing things. And I’m more “new fashioned”, that I know for some situation, I cannot always use my past experience to deal with the new ones. I need to keep updating myself.
My conclusion about her: I hope this will be THE ONLY time she becomes my CI.
Lastly, what I have learnt during these 5 weeks (or not exactly) are invaluable. Not only did I learn a lot of medical terms, machines, medications, and diseases, I also learnt how to communicate with co-workers and patients, and the most important: how to be a nurse. I have developed my compassion. I learnt to put myself in other people’s shoes, and hence to open my heart and greatly enhance my sense of gratitude. The grandma’s dead is still a great shock to me. I realize that I have spent too much time regretting the inevitable, worrying about a variety of things—all at once. I allow past problems and future concerns to dominate my present moments, all that has made me often ended up anxious, frustrated, depressed, and hopeless. In short, I think I miss out on life!
For this, I think I need a starbucks’ latte to appreciate and enjoy my present moment a bit.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Hospital posting-- journal 3
Monday I excitedly and happily walked in to my familiar ward. I couldn’t wait to see the sweet and kind auntie again, who said she could eat some ice cubes to reduce the fever. I couldn’t wait to see the septicaemia grandma again, who refused to open her mouth when I tried to clean her teeth. I couldn’t wait to see the auntie again, whom I got lectured by the CI for not tidying up her clothes properly after bed bathing. I couldn’t wait to see the grandma again, who cried out loud and asked us to erase the “8” behind the 37.8◦C so that she could discharge and go home. But I was disappointed after searching for a while—the patients in the whole ward have been changed except two.
On a second thought, I knew that I shouldn’t be disappointed. In fact, I should be happy for them.
They could finally discharge from the hospital and go home. Isn’t it great?
It is funny to come to realize that what a great number it is, of people or strangers you meet everyday, and they come in and out of your life quietly, hastily, and somehow, without you even notice it.
Except the septicaemia grandma; she passed away last Friday.
I was not surprised. It’s not that I’m being cold-hearted, but who can survive with this kind of blood disease?
Tuesday, it was just half an hour before we called it a night. A grandma was crying hard. She was in a misery of abdominal pain. The staff nurses refused to do anything, which I had no idea why. All we could do was, stood beside her and tried to comfort her.
11pm that night, she passed away.
And that, I was shocked.
I was shocked in two ways: first, I couldn’t grasp why the staff nurses stayed still for over 4 hours. Second, I couldn’t believe the patient, whom I nursed not too long ago, passed away. I couldn’t imagine what would it be if she died in front of me. Never in my life have I experienced someone passed away before my eyes.
Will I be calm? Will I cry? Or just shrug my shoulders?
I wondered had she fulfilled her dreams. I wondered if she had had any regrets in her life.
She reminded me of my regrets again.
Sometimes I wonder when can the not-so-care people will stop whining and start bucking up their lives? I guess the only way is—they go through the mistake they have made, and then come to realize that themselves.
Yes, life is short. Don’t repeat your mistakes again, and live your life to the fullest.
As for Iskeen (really have no idea how to spell her name), she really needs to build up her confidence more. During the 2-day practice in the same cubical with her, I could tell that she really has no confidence in whatever she does. It was frustrated, but I understood. She is only eighteen, and I am twenty freaking four. She just needs some time to learn.
After all, I was her when I was eighteen.
Some people said my ego is strong.
Ego and chicken, what would you choose?
On a second thought, I knew that I shouldn’t be disappointed. In fact, I should be happy for them.
They could finally discharge from the hospital and go home. Isn’t it great?
It is funny to come to realize that what a great number it is, of people or strangers you meet everyday, and they come in and out of your life quietly, hastily, and somehow, without you even notice it.
Except the septicaemia grandma; she passed away last Friday.
I was not surprised. It’s not that I’m being cold-hearted, but who can survive with this kind of blood disease?
Tuesday, it was just half an hour before we called it a night. A grandma was crying hard. She was in a misery of abdominal pain. The staff nurses refused to do anything, which I had no idea why. All we could do was, stood beside her and tried to comfort her.
11pm that night, she passed away.
And that, I was shocked.
I was shocked in two ways: first, I couldn’t grasp why the staff nurses stayed still for over 4 hours. Second, I couldn’t believe the patient, whom I nursed not too long ago, passed away. I couldn’t imagine what would it be if she died in front of me. Never in my life have I experienced someone passed away before my eyes.
Will I be calm? Will I cry? Or just shrug my shoulders?
I wondered had she fulfilled her dreams. I wondered if she had had any regrets in her life.
She reminded me of my regrets again.
Sometimes I wonder when can the not-so-care people will stop whining and start bucking up their lives? I guess the only way is—they go through the mistake they have made, and then come to realize that themselves.
Yes, life is short. Don’t repeat your mistakes again, and live your life to the fullest.
As for Iskeen (really have no idea how to spell her name), she really needs to build up her confidence more. During the 2-day practice in the same cubical with her, I could tell that she really has no confidence in whatever she does. It was frustrated, but I understood. She is only eighteen, and I am twenty freaking four. She just needs some time to learn.
After all, I was her when I was eighteen.
Some people said my ego is strong.
Ego and chicken, what would you choose?
Friday, August 8, 2008
Hospital posting-- journal 2
This week we were switched from orthopaedic ward to general medical ward. The overall experience was good. The staff nurses are better, and I got to learn and practice a lot more in this ward than before.
After three days in the female ward, the strongest feeling I had was—I don’t want to be like them when I am old. Additionally, caring them is a lot more frustrated than male patients.
I’m sorry, but it is.
If you compare a 50-something female patient with a 70-something male patient, you will get what I mean. Obesity dominates majority of the female patients. Additionally, some of them are very lazy. Yes, very LAZY.
They just lie there and expect you to do every thing for them, although they are able to walk normally. If you try to turn their bodies, they whine. If you ask them to lift up their buttocks, they say they can’t. If you ask them to lie properly, they ignore you because they want to sleep.
What the headache!
Anyways, having them as my reflection, I know I want to be healthy when I’m old. Maybe I should start practicing yoga and commit in a healthier lifestyle. On the other hand, I can’t imagine myself living without cheese, pancakes/waffles, KFC, fries……
Today I cleaned a diarrheic patient. As I removed the pampers, the smell of “flower” instantly hit me straight on the face.
Oh my god.
Due to the CI disallowed us to wear mask, I had to hold my breath, get my head down, wipe it, and then quickly turned around, inhaled the best air as possible before the next round began again.
After I finished, I felt so happy, not that because the procedure was finally finished, but because I felt so achieved and proud of myself. Except my little dog, I had never done something like this before, not to anybody. Let alone my parents, my brothers, even my lovely boyfriend. I remember many years ago, my uncle got a stroke. I even refused to help him to pass urine. Today, am I actually pulling my pride down and doing this. It really means a lot to me. I’m sure it goes same with the patient herself.
I’m still having a conflict about the whole mask and gloves thing. The CI said we ignored the patient’s feelings if we wore gloves and masks for every procedure. Yes, some of the procedures really need no protection. But when I feel like I need to protect myself for certain procedure, why can’t I? Yes, being a nurse, caring the patients is the top priority. It doesn’t mean the nurse should love herself less. It is not that I’m being selfish; it is just that I want to be more cautious. I mean, I have to protect myself, to prevent myself—or the patient himself—from falling in sick, in order to be able to continue to care for and help the patients. Have people ever thought about why MRSA disease is common in the hospitals here, but 0% in UK hospitals?
Today, a doctor was supposed to clean the pressure ulcer of a patient. Because the patient got diarrhoea, the doctor scolded at the patient’s mom. She asked me to clean for the patient and then tell the stuff nurse to clean the ulcer site instead. She herself then disappeared right away. What a good doctor.
Why there are so many doctors’ malpractice cases here? I think the doctors are addicted to the powers they get from their superior job, and have forgotten about their core of ethics—to cure the patients. Every morning, they come around the ward and do check up for every patient. All they do are just asking patient some questions, maybe palpate a little bit here and there, and then disappear. Once they have the diagnosis, they keep on prescribing the same plan and medicines for the patient. If the patient persists the condition for quite a time, aren’t they trying to figure out the reason? Maybe it is not the fever they have diagnosed, maybe it is pneumonia that causes the fever? Like years ago, my brother got an appendis surgery. It took more than three physicians to finally find out what had happened to him. I mean, appendis is not as hard to diagnose as fever, how could it take three physicians? Maybe the first and second physician shouldn’t have being a doctor. I think there are actually a lot of illnesses can be cure, apart from the scientific technology, one of the reasons is probably the misdiagnosis from the doctors.
I always jot down the illnesses that I especially concern and then ask my boyfriend’s brother rather than asking the doctors here directly. Yes, I’m still having a hard time to trust the doctors here.
While the people here are “worshipping” the doctors, I treat them equally as how I treat other people. Of course I still show my respectful manner when I work with them. After all, I know I have to be professional. Are you a doctor? You think you deserve my respect? Prove me that I’m wrong.
After three days in the female ward, the strongest feeling I had was—I don’t want to be like them when I am old. Additionally, caring them is a lot more frustrated than male patients.
I’m sorry, but it is.
If you compare a 50-something female patient with a 70-something male patient, you will get what I mean. Obesity dominates majority of the female patients. Additionally, some of them are very lazy. Yes, very LAZY.
They just lie there and expect you to do every thing for them, although they are able to walk normally. If you try to turn their bodies, they whine. If you ask them to lift up their buttocks, they say they can’t. If you ask them to lie properly, they ignore you because they want to sleep.
What the headache!
Anyways, having them as my reflection, I know I want to be healthy when I’m old. Maybe I should start practicing yoga and commit in a healthier lifestyle. On the other hand, I can’t imagine myself living without cheese, pancakes/waffles, KFC, fries……
Today I cleaned a diarrheic patient. As I removed the pampers, the smell of “flower” instantly hit me straight on the face.
Oh my god.
Due to the CI disallowed us to wear mask, I had to hold my breath, get my head down, wipe it, and then quickly turned around, inhaled the best air as possible before the next round began again.
After I finished, I felt so happy, not that because the procedure was finally finished, but because I felt so achieved and proud of myself. Except my little dog, I had never done something like this before, not to anybody. Let alone my parents, my brothers, even my lovely boyfriend. I remember many years ago, my uncle got a stroke. I even refused to help him to pass urine. Today, am I actually pulling my pride down and doing this. It really means a lot to me. I’m sure it goes same with the patient herself.
I’m still having a conflict about the whole mask and gloves thing. The CI said we ignored the patient’s feelings if we wore gloves and masks for every procedure. Yes, some of the procedures really need no protection. But when I feel like I need to protect myself for certain procedure, why can’t I? Yes, being a nurse, caring the patients is the top priority. It doesn’t mean the nurse should love herself less. It is not that I’m being selfish; it is just that I want to be more cautious. I mean, I have to protect myself, to prevent myself—or the patient himself—from falling in sick, in order to be able to continue to care for and help the patients. Have people ever thought about why MRSA disease is common in the hospitals here, but 0% in UK hospitals?
Today, a doctor was supposed to clean the pressure ulcer of a patient. Because the patient got diarrhoea, the doctor scolded at the patient’s mom. She asked me to clean for the patient and then tell the stuff nurse to clean the ulcer site instead. She herself then disappeared right away. What a good doctor.
Why there are so many doctors’ malpractice cases here? I think the doctors are addicted to the powers they get from their superior job, and have forgotten about their core of ethics—to cure the patients. Every morning, they come around the ward and do check up for every patient. All they do are just asking patient some questions, maybe palpate a little bit here and there, and then disappear. Once they have the diagnosis, they keep on prescribing the same plan and medicines for the patient. If the patient persists the condition for quite a time, aren’t they trying to figure out the reason? Maybe it is not the fever they have diagnosed, maybe it is pneumonia that causes the fever? Like years ago, my brother got an appendis surgery. It took more than three physicians to finally find out what had happened to him. I mean, appendis is not as hard to diagnose as fever, how could it take three physicians? Maybe the first and second physician shouldn’t have being a doctor. I think there are actually a lot of illnesses can be cure, apart from the scientific technology, one of the reasons is probably the misdiagnosis from the doctors.
I always jot down the illnesses that I especially concern and then ask my boyfriend’s brother rather than asking the doctors here directly. Yes, I’m still having a hard time to trust the doctors here.
While the people here are “worshipping” the doctors, I treat them equally as how I treat other people. Of course I still show my respectful manner when I work with them. After all, I know I have to be professional. Are you a doctor? You think you deserve my respect? Prove me that I’m wrong.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
White Angel part 2
Oh my, oh my, what can I do?
Lord please relieve the pain he suffers
I realized I know nothing, so I’ve got to be good
So I can help the patients like him when I become a nurse
I walked in the ward, and I saw an old man
He’s just returned from the OT
There he was lying, looking at me
Leg was swollen; wound was bleeding
I couldn’t help, but looked at him
I’ll never forget the face that day
Tears in his eyes, pain on his face
Asking me for help
Oh my, oh my, what can I do?
Lord please relieve the pain he suffers
I realized I know nothing, so I’ve got to be good
So I can help the patients like him when I become a nurse
There was his son standing next to me
Looking worried, and I didn’t know what to say
He was brought to the X-ray room
But somehow he managed to smile at me
The end of the night, I went to see him again
I held his hand; I looked at him and said,
“Just a little while, you will be fine”
But somehow he’s still smiling at me
Something warm rollin’ through my eyes
Today I went to see him before I left
He was smiling, waving his hand
He shook my hand and said, “thank you”
Oh my, oh my, what can I do?
Lord please relieve the pain he suffers
I realized I know nothing, that I’ve got to study harder
So I can help more people when I become a nurse
Lord please relieve the pain he suffers
I realized I know nothing, so I’ve got to be good
So I can help the patients like him when I become a nurse
I walked in the ward, and I saw an old man
He’s just returned from the OT
There he was lying, looking at me
Leg was swollen; wound was bleeding
I couldn’t help, but looked at him
I’ll never forget the face that day
Tears in his eyes, pain on his face
Asking me for help
Oh my, oh my, what can I do?
Lord please relieve the pain he suffers
I realized I know nothing, so I’ve got to be good
So I can help the patients like him when I become a nurse
There was his son standing next to me
Looking worried, and I didn’t know what to say
He was brought to the X-ray room
But somehow he managed to smile at me
The end of the night, I went to see him again
I held his hand; I looked at him and said,
“Just a little while, you will be fine”
But somehow he’s still smiling at me
Something warm rollin’ through my eyes
Today I went to see him before I left
He was smiling, waving his hand
He shook my hand and said, “thank you”
Oh my, oh my, what can I do?
Lord please relieve the pain he suffers
I realized I know nothing, that I’ve got to study harder
So I can help more people when I become a nurse
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