Monday, July 16, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
UNCOMMON SENSE
It takes people a while to realize what they really want in life. And for some, this may never truly happen.
As a child, we often hear our parents tell us that we can be everything we want to be. But as we grow up, we attain this supernatural power to lodge barriers between these dreams. We impose restrictions, think that we will never be what we can and end up in dead pan jobs, never able to see beyond the walls we’ve built up.
When I was younger, I dreamt of being an astronaut. Reveling in the thought of being able to touch the stars and roam the Milky Way. Then I realized that we did not have any resources available locally. Goodbye, NASA. And learnt how to chucked that, going on to dreaming of being an artist.
People always said I was blessed with the ability to draw. I proved them right each time I fused the crisp white paper with the dark smooth, crumbly lead. I had my finished pieces showcased all over the school compound. Then, I learnt that it would prove to difficult to nudge my way into the arts scene because all I could do was draw black and white pictures with my 4B pencil. I gave that up too.
I didn’t think about branching into the tattoo industry because I was too scared then. I thought that it was a line reserved for the often jailed and infrequently civilised.
I could not have been more wrong. Piss shit, i even sport one myself. Wahahaha.
Otherwise, I think I would have been a very good tattoo artist, and may even be starring in Miami Ink now. I'm MUCH better then Yohji. And Ami will look good as arm candy any day. Guffaws.
I went on to dream about being a journalist, enticed by the money that accompanied and reporting stories that would otherwise have remained secrets. Then I developed secrets of my own, and I grew to respect that some things are better left unsaid.
So in the end, there wasn’t much choices left for me. I had chucked so many dreams. The dustbin was overflowing and the options were dwindling.
I dabbled in the service industry, and found out that I actually liked being around people. And I seriously thought of branching further within. But stomachs had to be filled, and I ended up in nursing (kicking and screaming, alongside a hell lot of coaxing and/or brainwashing from family).
No one (except for my family) ever believed I would pull through.
In the initial stages, I went into ITE with a severe abhorrence with the local educational system. The skeletons of secondary school life lingered. However, my perception morphed into genuine interest when I found that what I was learning was actually beneficial to myself. What’s more unbelievable was, for the first time, I was staying awake in classes and enjoying lessons.
I stumbled through each attachment, trying to make the most of every opportunity. I forced myself to open my eyes and view the world like I’d never done before. I still remember clearly having to bathe an elderly lady on my first day in the wards. I wound up staring at her, wide eyed and open mouthed (no sexual innuendos intended). It ended up with her trying to cover up her bits and sorely uncomfortable.
Soon, I found myself being absorbed into a whole different reality. It was there all along, waiting for me to venture in. I heard people share their life stories; I watched the drama that unfolded. I witnessed the politics (that remain rampant to this day) and discovered a change within.
ITE gave me a second chance to attain my diploma. Not many ever thought I could. And I finished the 3 years with a merit.
Even in the course of nursing, I’ve evolved. Previously, I had been hell bent on specializing in critical care. I thought I would relish the fast paced environment. I hungered for the adrenaline rush that resuscitation brought. Then, they posted me to the hematological unit. And I finally came to grips with the knowledge that I will never take death easily.
The ward and staff were very supportive during my final attachment. They even wrote a testimonial for the application of my degree scholarship. So that dream of being in CCU went down the drain as I had my sights on being rooted in blood.
After a 360 degree turn of events, I found out that I would be posted to a unit that I had never been before. My gastric contents churned as they’d never have.
I thought that the pace would be snail slow. That life as I knew would slip into oblivion as I hid, detached from the main building. Away from all the hustle and bustle that I had grown so accustomed to. I thought I would lose all the skills that I had fought so hard to learn. I even renamed it from Sentosa to Kusu Island because it lacked the glamour of the former.
That moniker has since become a term of affection.
It’s been a few weeks in my current ward. I’m posted to the infectious diseases/geron unit, and all I can say now is, it’s been fun. Most of my colleagues are also newly posted there, so you can say we’re a young ward. Everyone is trying to settle in and get used to the routine. I still have a wide array of patients to care for. But most are certified stable before being sent down to us. Still, I have more then enough chances for complex dressings, NGT feeds, oropharyngeal suctioning, setting cannulas, taking blood and loads of diaper changing.
More importantly, I’m happy.
I’m still joking around with my patients. I’m still learning new things. Though it’s too early to say if I’ll remain. The doors at the haem side remain open, and it’s premature to confirm if I’ll ever continue or stop further education.
The cliché states that ‘when one door closes, another opens’. Though I think otherwise. Some doors are open all the time, but the view gets obscured. So it may take a while to find the right one.
One thing’s for sure – stop banging on the wrong door.
Everyone only has one chance in life. Be happy at doing whatever it is you do. Have the courage to venture into unchartered waters, no matter how the odds seem stacked against you. Look to nature to gain strength. Just see how salmon swim upstream, how cacti continue to grow in desserts.
Do what you really enjoy, and not what other people dictate upon you.
It takes people a while to realize what they really want in life. And for some, this may never truly happen.
As a child, we often hear our parents tell us that we can be everything we want to be. But as we grow up, we attain this supernatural power to lodge barriers between these dreams. We impose restrictions, think that we will never be what we can and end up in dead pan jobs, never able to see beyond the walls we’ve built up.
When I was younger, I dreamt of being an astronaut. Reveling in the thought of being able to touch the stars and roam the Milky Way. Then I realized that we did not have any resources available locally. Goodbye, NASA. And learnt how to chucked that, going on to dreaming of being an artist.
People always said I was blessed with the ability to draw. I proved them right each time I fused the crisp white paper with the dark smooth, crumbly lead. I had my finished pieces showcased all over the school compound. Then, I learnt that it would prove to difficult to nudge my way into the arts scene because all I could do was draw black and white pictures with my 4B pencil. I gave that up too.
I didn’t think about branching into the tattoo industry because I was too scared then. I thought that it was a line reserved for the often jailed and infrequently civilised.
I could not have been more wrong. Piss shit, i even sport one myself. Wahahaha.
Otherwise, I think I would have been a very good tattoo artist, and may even be starring in Miami Ink now. I'm MUCH better then Yohji. And Ami will look good as arm candy any day. Guffaws.
I went on to dream about being a journalist, enticed by the money that accompanied and reporting stories that would otherwise have remained secrets. Then I developed secrets of my own, and I grew to respect that some things are better left unsaid.
So in the end, there wasn’t much choices left for me. I had chucked so many dreams. The dustbin was overflowing and the options were dwindling.
I dabbled in the service industry, and found out that I actually liked being around people. And I seriously thought of branching further within. But stomachs had to be filled, and I ended up in nursing (kicking and screaming, alongside a hell lot of coaxing and/or brainwashing from family).
No one (except for my family) ever believed I would pull through.
In the initial stages, I went into ITE with a severe abhorrence with the local educational system. The skeletons of secondary school life lingered. However, my perception morphed into genuine interest when I found that what I was learning was actually beneficial to myself. What’s more unbelievable was, for the first time, I was staying awake in classes and enjoying lessons.
I stumbled through each attachment, trying to make the most of every opportunity. I forced myself to open my eyes and view the world like I’d never done before. I still remember clearly having to bathe an elderly lady on my first day in the wards. I wound up staring at her, wide eyed and open mouthed (no sexual innuendos intended). It ended up with her trying to cover up her bits and sorely uncomfortable.
Soon, I found myself being absorbed into a whole different reality. It was there all along, waiting for me to venture in. I heard people share their life stories; I watched the drama that unfolded. I witnessed the politics (that remain rampant to this day) and discovered a change within.
ITE gave me a second chance to attain my diploma. Not many ever thought I could. And I finished the 3 years with a merit.
Even in the course of nursing, I’ve evolved. Previously, I had been hell bent on specializing in critical care. I thought I would relish the fast paced environment. I hungered for the adrenaline rush that resuscitation brought. Then, they posted me to the hematological unit. And I finally came to grips with the knowledge that I will never take death easily.
The ward and staff were very supportive during my final attachment. They even wrote a testimonial for the application of my degree scholarship. So that dream of being in CCU went down the drain as I had my sights on being rooted in blood.
After a 360 degree turn of events, I found out that I would be posted to a unit that I had never been before. My gastric contents churned as they’d never have.
I thought that the pace would be snail slow. That life as I knew would slip into oblivion as I hid, detached from the main building. Away from all the hustle and bustle that I had grown so accustomed to. I thought I would lose all the skills that I had fought so hard to learn. I even renamed it from Sentosa to Kusu Island because it lacked the glamour of the former.
That moniker has since become a term of affection.
It’s been a few weeks in my current ward. I’m posted to the infectious diseases/geron unit, and all I can say now is, it’s been fun. Most of my colleagues are also newly posted there, so you can say we’re a young ward. Everyone is trying to settle in and get used to the routine. I still have a wide array of patients to care for. But most are certified stable before being sent down to us. Still, I have more then enough chances for complex dressings, NGT feeds, oropharyngeal suctioning, setting cannulas, taking blood and loads of diaper changing.
More importantly, I’m happy.
I’m still joking around with my patients. I’m still learning new things. Though it’s too early to say if I’ll remain. The doors at the haem side remain open, and it’s premature to confirm if I’ll ever continue or stop further education.
The cliché states that ‘when one door closes, another opens’. Though I think otherwise. Some doors are open all the time, but the view gets obscured. So it may take a while to find the right one.
One thing’s for sure – stop banging on the wrong door.
Everyone only has one chance in life. Be happy at doing whatever it is you do. Have the courage to venture into unchartered waters, no matter how the odds seem stacked against you. Look to nature to gain strength. Just see how salmon swim upstream, how cacti continue to grow in desserts.
Do what you really enjoy, and not what other people dictate upon you.
**********************
What was your childhood ambition?
I wanted to be a road sweeper.
Why?
Because i like to keep things clean.
(taken from a conversation between Sharon Lee and I)
She's now a manager in an IT firm with 6 subordinates under her charge.
and i'm finally a registered nurse (earning pittance)..
and i'm finally a registered nurse (earning pittance)..
HAHAHAHHAHA
But we're both happy doing what we do
Thursday, July 12, 2007
GET WELL SOON
I was sitting in front of the tele last night, watching the nightly news over on channel 5 with my bro. Happily munching on Calbee potato crisps and downing a jug of raspberry 7up, I jumped out of my seat when I saw Hamster on the news.
All bloodied up and hurt.
Poor Hamster met with a road traffic accident. Shoots middle finger to the driver involved that escaped without a scratch. It looked kind of serious to me. Her arm was immobilized in a sling, and blood all over her face. She looked so sad.
And the worst thing was that she was all alone.
I tried to contact her, but her handphone had lousy reception. I promptly went around to sms my classmates to notify them. Yeah lor... i'm so kaypoh wan.
I simply could not bear the thought of letting a friend go through such agony alone. Thankfully, Hamster’s a people person. So there was no lack of concern from the others.
Prof Phua did good by calling to enquire about the hospital and ward that Hamster was in. He’s actually quite nice as a friend, and does have his uses; most importantly, he has never backstabbed me. So I don’t give a rat’s ass when other people make fun of me being his friend.
Armed with info, Chicken, Zul, Prof and I popped by during our break to visit her. It was a good thing that she was warded into our hospital. It made it so much easier to see her.
Hamster was so touched. Well, at least I hope. I saw her eyes well up with tears, tears that were conjured up by joy, no sadness. And it must have felt good to know you’re not alone in those cold hospital walls.
We went by again to see her after work. This time, more classmates came over. Fad and her friend, Lydia, Asyik “Kueh Daging”, Sheran, and super touchy Siamese twins, BGR combo – Jun & what’s-his-name Stalker/Shadow. We had a great time catching up, and chatting with Hamster’s family and friends that came along. Hamster’s grandma’s so cheerful, always smiling. Now I know where Hamster gets her positive vibes!
We ravaged the tidbits that well-wishers brought and scribbled our greetings in Hamster’s notepad (like a guest book). And yes, all present were treated with the mandatory touchy-feely free show from the Siamese twins. Again.
This incident just proves the fragility of life. Besides the sad truth that eyes can sting from RA antics. Wahahhaha…
We never expect accidents to happen, but in all truth, they do and can happen. To anyone. At anytime. And the only control we have over our lives is how to live each minute, each second, to its fullest.
Cause, seriously, if you don’t, there may not be an opportunity for regret.
I tried to contact her, but her handphone had lousy reception. I promptly went around to sms my classmates to notify them. Yeah lor... i'm so kaypoh wan.
I simply could not bear the thought of letting a friend go through such agony alone. Thankfully, Hamster’s a people person. So there was no lack of concern from the others.
Prof Phua did good by calling to enquire about the hospital and ward that Hamster was in. He’s actually quite nice as a friend, and does have his uses; most importantly, he has never backstabbed me. So I don’t give a rat’s ass when other people make fun of me being his friend.
Armed with info, Chicken, Zul, Prof and I popped by during our break to visit her. It was a good thing that she was warded into our hospital. It made it so much easier to see her.
Hamster was so touched. Well, at least I hope. I saw her eyes well up with tears, tears that were conjured up by joy, no sadness. And it must have felt good to know you’re not alone in those cold hospital walls.
We went by again to see her after work. This time, more classmates came over. Fad and her friend, Lydia, Asyik “Kueh Daging”, Sheran, and super touchy Siamese twins, BGR combo – Jun & what’s-his-name Stalker/Shadow. We had a great time catching up, and chatting with Hamster’s family and friends that came along. Hamster’s grandma’s so cheerful, always smiling. Now I know where Hamster gets her positive vibes!
We ravaged the tidbits that well-wishers brought and scribbled our greetings in Hamster’s notepad (like a guest book). And yes, all present were treated with the mandatory touchy-feely free show from the Siamese twins. Again.
This incident just proves the fragility of life. Besides the sad truth that eyes can sting from RA antics. Wahahhaha…
We never expect accidents to happen, but in all truth, they do and can happen. To anyone. At anytime. And the only control we have over our lives is how to live each minute, each second, to its fullest.
Cause, seriously, if you don’t, there may not be an opportunity for regret.
Monday, July 09, 2007
I can’t be angrier at HR over in my hospital. I understand there are, and always will be beauracratic red tape present in all organizations, this, by far, is the lamest piece of shit I’ve had the chance to hear in a long while.
Allow me to provide you with some details.
HR lost my pics for the SNB registration. They only informed me of this fuck-up after I had to personally go down to register with SNB myself (at 3.30pm). They then gave me wrong instructions and I ended up having to trot down to Chinatown to retake the blardy pics so I could rush to SNB before they closed at 5pm.
I didn’t receive any notice about my new pay scheme until today. Congrats to me. And that’s only after I went down to their office, banging down the door with anger with regards to my pay being non-existent. Yes, they were clever enough to cut my student sponsorship last month, but too stooped to issue me my pay on the 7th.
And just what did that bitch have the cheek to tell me?!
“You are still on no-pay leave leh”
MUTHER FUCKER.
I met this bitch on so many occasions. And she did not tell me anything. And now she wants to do a tai-chi dance with me, pushing the blame to me?!
Wah lao… I tell you. I was pissing through my pores.
I raised my voice at her. I wanted to stop when I saw that she was shaking and went all white, but the ridiculous answers that parted from her lips just started to restart this throbbing pain in my head.
I have always been a firm believer of doing something once, and doing something well. If she doesn’t have the ability to make things right, at the very least, stop all this gawd damn irritating habit of making MY life miserable.
Fucker.
Your incompetence is an embarrassment to your organization.
Allow me to provide you with some details.
HR lost my pics for the SNB registration. They only informed me of this fuck-up after I had to personally go down to register with SNB myself (at 3.30pm). They then gave me wrong instructions and I ended up having to trot down to Chinatown to retake the blardy pics so I could rush to SNB before they closed at 5pm.
I didn’t receive any notice about my new pay scheme until today. Congrats to me. And that’s only after I went down to their office, banging down the door with anger with regards to my pay being non-existent. Yes, they were clever enough to cut my student sponsorship last month, but too stooped to issue me my pay on the 7th.
And just what did that bitch have the cheek to tell me?!
“You are still on no-pay leave leh”
MUTHER FUCKER.
I met this bitch on so many occasions. And she did not tell me anything. And now she wants to do a tai-chi dance with me, pushing the blame to me?!
Wah lao… I tell you. I was pissing through my pores.
I raised my voice at her. I wanted to stop when I saw that she was shaking and went all white, but the ridiculous answers that parted from her lips just started to restart this throbbing pain in my head.
I have always been a firm believer of doing something once, and doing something well. If she doesn’t have the ability to make things right, at the very least, stop all this gawd damn irritating habit of making MY life miserable.
Fucker.
Your incompetence is an embarrassment to your organization.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Graduation - The Class of 2007
I attended my graduation ceremony on wed. Something that I had worked hard for to attain for the last three years of my life. But being there, seated beside mere strangers that did little to impact my life, made the ceremony meaningless. I wasted an hour and a half of my life listening to people i had never met before in my life, speak about how they have made this day possible.
Pui.
It was good to see classmates there – no matter how indifferent I looked. Yes, even pleasant to catch up with other lecture-mates and teachers. I shook hands with many of them. Most of whom I knew little of. They recognized me, but I could not say the same of them. Ironically, though expected, my own mentor (mr greasy hair/extreme parting), walked by without recognizing me. Wahaha.. Even the people on the stage had the routine congratulatory conversation with me. You know, those exchanges that take place to ease the spaces between each student in line. All fleeting, and none memorable.
Even the convocation gown was so heavy. And ugly..! I don’t understand how something so oversized as that can make anyone think they can look smart in it. I could have smuggled both my brother and Ross on to the stage if I wanted to. And the slutty hooks kept getting undone. Heng, I wasn’t naked underneath.
No adrenalin pumping, Kodak-moment hat toss. No hat even!
No opportunity to bitch about people’s dress sense.
We didn’t even get to sit in our class.
Just coldly lined up in alphabetical order.
I cheered for all my classmates. I was distracted my Gladys for some time after her entanglement with Kanina The Color Blind Clown, but I think I got to cheer for most. I was the lone ranger doing all the sound effects. I couldn’t be bothered about what others thought off. I was there to cheer for my classmates.
WoooOOoOooo… crowd stares. Skin thickens. Continues WooOOooo.
Before you start lamenting that I'm such a typical Singaporean (complainer), the saving grace was having my brother and Ross there to cheer for me. And how they did... They had threatened to buy party pops, crackers, whistles and embarrassing shit, so it was very unnerving. And time passed easier with the glory of communications – thank gawd for satellite communication! And yes.. it was an excuse to dig up my long buried ferragamo’s to bask in the light of day.
But I have to say this – my brother is a total retard with my cam. I actually entrusted him to snap pics for me. Some memories that I could review in my early stages of dementia and perhaps slow degeneration down a wee bit. But… But.. But… that retard took about 3 (yes, a grand total of) blardy BLURRY pics of my silhouette for goodness knows what.
Exorcist photo contest meh?!
Haiz.
Next time, they should put the students in their classes and allow them to really enjoy the process of graduation. At least to make up for the fugly looking diploma the school hands out. Not even measly gold lettering for the merit award.
Chee bye.
PAY ME BACK MY SCHOOL FEES suckers.
I attended my graduation ceremony on wed. Something that I had worked hard for to attain for the last three years of my life. But being there, seated beside mere strangers that did little to impact my life, made the ceremony meaningless. I wasted an hour and a half of my life listening to people i had never met before in my life, speak about how they have made this day possible.
Pui.
It was good to see classmates there – no matter how indifferent I looked. Yes, even pleasant to catch up with other lecture-mates and teachers. I shook hands with many of them. Most of whom I knew little of. They recognized me, but I could not say the same of them. Ironically, though expected, my own mentor (mr greasy hair/extreme parting), walked by without recognizing me. Wahaha.. Even the people on the stage had the routine congratulatory conversation with me. You know, those exchanges that take place to ease the spaces between each student in line. All fleeting, and none memorable.
Even the convocation gown was so heavy. And ugly..! I don’t understand how something so oversized as that can make anyone think they can look smart in it. I could have smuggled both my brother and Ross on to the stage if I wanted to. And the slutty hooks kept getting undone. Heng, I wasn’t naked underneath.
No adrenalin pumping, Kodak-moment hat toss. No hat even!
No opportunity to bitch about people’s dress sense.
We didn’t even get to sit in our class.
Just coldly lined up in alphabetical order.
I cheered for all my classmates. I was distracted my Gladys for some time after her entanglement with Kanina The Color Blind Clown, but I think I got to cheer for most. I was the lone ranger doing all the sound effects. I couldn’t be bothered about what others thought off. I was there to cheer for my classmates.
WoooOOoOooo… crowd stares. Skin thickens. Continues WooOOooo.
Before you start lamenting that I'm such a typical Singaporean (complainer), the saving grace was having my brother and Ross there to cheer for me. And how they did... They had threatened to buy party pops, crackers, whistles and embarrassing shit, so it was very unnerving. And time passed easier with the glory of communications – thank gawd for satellite communication! And yes.. it was an excuse to dig up my long buried ferragamo’s to bask in the light of day.
But I have to say this – my brother is a total retard with my cam. I actually entrusted him to snap pics for me. Some memories that I could review in my early stages of dementia and perhaps slow degeneration down a wee bit. But… But.. But… that retard took about 3 (yes, a grand total of) blardy BLURRY pics of my silhouette for goodness knows what.
Exorcist photo contest meh?!
Haiz.
Next time, they should put the students in their classes and allow them to really enjoy the process of graduation. At least to make up for the fugly looking diploma the school hands out. Not even measly gold lettering for the merit award.
Chee bye.
PAY ME BACK MY SCHOOL FEES suckers.
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