TOUGH LUCK

The past few shifts have been really draining. It’s really hard to keep up the level of energy people are acustomed to, when I feel I’m shouldering the double load of being the in-charge and a junior. I’ve been made to work the same shift with people that are frequently on MC, thus making Lao Lao/Ah Clow juggle the manpower base and I always end up working with ultra lazy people that I would rather do without.

I have to turn patients, change diapers, sit them out for meals, answer call bells, 2hrly oropharyngeal suctioning, NG feeds, dressings and do their walking exercises ALONE. On top of writing my reports, serving meds, giving my IVs, SCs and entertaining queries.

Haiz. The torture. Lord, please grant me 6 arms like an octopus.

I’d rather slog to death alone then slog to death pek chek (frustrated), witnessing the rest of them just sitting in the counter merrily chatting amongst themselves. I think I’m as tolerant as tolerant can be, to pregnant staff. I ban them from entering the rooms with airborne diseases. I also ban them from lifting heavy patients in case they stress themselves and suffer a spontaneous abortion. But initiative is not cultivated in pregnant bellies. Laziness is. To the point that the only thing they can do is counter nursing.

And the non pregnant clan whom I’m on with, is serving the army. Always MIA (missing in action), called away to some imaginary war. Incidentally the war zone is always in the tearoom. And as you may have guessed, the opponent is called HARD WORK.

People need to recognize teamwork is essential in every aspect of life.

Ross says not being able to delegate is my Achilles’ heel. I can’t bring myself to order pregnant women to work when they have histories of miscarriages and other rubbish. And why bother to ask, when initiative is never taken into consideration. I reckon it’ll just breed contempt.

I WANT MY PRECEPTOR BACK.

She rocks my world at the ward. She supports me well and instructs the rest to do their work. As for me, I tend to allow them to get away with murder.

I hope this week flies. Herald in the 14th!

Fortunately I have F4. Our breaks. Makan sessions. Our TO-SO-LEONG-TAM antics. I love us lah. Without them, I think I’d go mad. We’re also aiming for zero MCs this year!

CHEONG ah..!!

Room 37 persists in offering me food. She’ll shout at me from her room, beckoning me to hurry with Tupperware or is in the midst of dividing out whatever her daughter has brought. She speaks to most in a manner that will make anyone doubt her level of hearing is not impaired, but I guess that’s the way she is. She’s just loud.

Ah Mui ah.. Wa kio ler ah ni gu liao leh.. ler mai lai ah?!!
(Direct translation : I’ve been calling you for so long, you don’t want to come?!)

Nowadays, she’ll laugh. The type of hearty laughter that starts bubbling in the abdomen and releases into a hysterical guffaw. I have to take the food she throws at me, but I don’t eat them. Hahaha.. instead, I feed Room 39. She goobles it up, as usual, without a thank you or recognition.

Karma is a revelation I live in hope for.