(ALMOST) PAY DAY
Today was a day bustling with activity.
For a start, I was scheduled to work from 9am-6pm because Lao Lao wanted me to attend a seminar chaired by a visiting expert from 3.15pm. I presume the word ‘expert’ here is used loosely. They seem to label any healthcare personnel that visit the hospital grounds an expert.
The talk was super dry and boring. I sat at the back, munching on my curry puff and basicallly instigating all the people who were fasting to hijack my tasty morsels.
Anyway, the morning hours were really hard to pass. Our side had, get this, a grand total of 5 patients. To a total of 4 nurses. That beats ICU down flat man. I was bored out of my wits, so I dragged a couple of patients to bathe and spent 45 glorious minutes on a bilateral foot dressing which was damn disgusting. Every cotton ball I cleansed with, came white and went to the dustbin looking like I dunked it into a cup of milo. YUCKS. I cleaned like a woman possessed, satisfied only when the cotton ball returned in an acceptable manner.
And since I would be going on my annual leave, I decided to spend a little more time with my patients. The lady in room 23 traded hugs with me, a ritual we adhere to almost every day. She’s a funny lady, only taking her nebulizer after I hug her. It makes her happy, so it’s all good.
I sat out room 25 for breakfast. Everyone says I spoil her, giving into her antics and basically babying her. Sometimes when she gets too breathless, she uses hand signals to me, and because I’ve been nursing her for close to 2 months, I can roughly guess what she wants even before she needs to say things (aka pseudo fortune teller). Her appetite is slowly improving with all the love and attention that she’s getting, even though one has to come to terms with the fact that time is running out for her.
She makes me rub this evil looking red liquid on her belly to ease the distention. It evaporates into pungent fumes that burn and sting the mucosal layers of the nose and eyes. EVIL.
But I do it anyway. I’m a sucker for her smile.
I used to coax her relentlessly to finish her Mist Carminative. Until the night my preceptor and i tried it. We spit the damn thing out the moment it touched our tongues. It tastes like some freakish fish sauce and flour combo. DISGUSTING. So i promised myself never to inflict her the same torture again.
Indra loves to disturb her. You should witness it yourself. It’s just damn funny. One time, Mel shook her bed and we all ran around the room shouting earthquake!!! That old lady just creaked open her lids a fraction of an inch and waved us away.
So anticlimax. Duh.
Today, when she asked Indra to reduce the volume of the telly, Indra did the exact opposite. She nagged at us while we chuckled uncontrollably beside her.
My preceptor also had to bribe another patient with Prima Deli’s chicken pie so he would consent for blood taking too.
So, as you can imagine, my ward spoils the folks there.
With the low census and the research division out-stationed, the ward is getting a little too quiet for my liking. People like Meng Hwee, Gary, the other SN all take the effort to exchange greetings with the patients out in the walkway, allowing the patients interaction with people apart from the usual green uniform. And yes, the saga between Eczema Girl and Gary is seriously amusing to behold.
Today, Kristabel signaled that my abdomen was expanding. Then she asked if Gary or KC was responsible. I replied, “It was a wild night. It could be either one.” For the record, it was a joke. I cannot be impregnated by air. Unless you can devise a way for sperm to be airborne (flicking sperm through the air just doesn't count), I refute the advances made by this topic. Wahahhaha..
I nearly banged head on into Gary today. It was a weird conversation.
Gary : Hey! How are you?!
Me : Good! And how about you!!
Gary : EXCELLENT!!
Me : OK!!
Gary : OK!!
Yes, we were shouting at the top of our voices in the hall. Don’t ask me why. I was just mirroring his behavior.
On the second meeting, I stood by the gates, waiting for my brother (whom was damn freaking-pull-hair-from-roots late) to pick me up for our monthly supermarket spree together. Gary was walking with his female colleague into the compound. Waving, another conversation ensued.
Gary : Aiye! You morning shift ah?
Me : 9-6 lor.. damn sheong ah!
Gary : You waiting here for what?
Me : (About to answer but gets interrupted)
Gary : Waiting for me ah?! Hahaha.. (he still has the cheek to laugh)
*This is where his female colleague’s eyeballs go amok*
Me : I’m waiting for my brother lah. Duh.Why are you back?
Gary : Getting my stuff. See you!
Me : Bye!
And yes, we were shouting again. I think either one of us has a serious hearing deficit.
The security guard must have had a field day with the drama, watching all this in the safety of his guard house in front of the gate.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
REEL LIFEI like movies because it sucks me into another world, partnered with music playing in the background, bringing emotions to a crescendo. An alternate reality, where I can witness others make mistakes and see the consequences clearly surface.
You’ll always know how the ending goes.
I can fast forward.
You’ll always know how the ending goes.
I can fast forward.
I can rewind.
I can mute sound.
I can brighten up.
I can mute sound.
I can brighten up.
I can dull.
I can freeze frame.
And the best thing is that the bombs don’t hurt.
I wield an insane power to switch off the damn telly, should I get sick of things. And the ability to store the images clearly in a hardisk.
Unlike my own reality, in which nothing is what it seems. And twists in the plot are abound with every movement I make. How profoundly true the saying of “events are always clearer to the uninvolved”. Sometimes I feel like slapping myself on the forehead when I do things that make it seem that I had allowed my brain to take a vacation. To mars. On a camel. And a rubber one to boot.
If I had my way, I’d like my life to mimic that of a Korean movie. The actors always have such glowing looking skin, silky hair and nice colorful clothes. Korean men in the movies are toooooooooo die for. Well, maybe not to that extent. But yeah.. some of them just looooooook gooooooood *drools*. Exactly what I like!
And even if the characters don’t look all that great, at the very least, they have an enigmatic presence which draws you to continue watching.
Juxtapose that to real life. KC To. Celluilite not celluliod babeh.
I’d like my life movie to have an earth shattering love affair like Millionaire’s First Love, minus the sad ending. And I’d pray the male lead looks like the one in Seducing Mr Perfect (Daniel Henny!!! Btw, he's the amazingly delicious creature in the pic above). I’d like to possess the spunk of the female lead in S Diary and Perfect Couple combined. I’d like to have the opportunity to travel back in time like Operation Makeover and have a dog like Hearty Paws. Throw in some occasional drama of those around me like the buddies in Cheaters. And to top that off, I’d like my own soundtrack to be a mixture of all the music I love.
In all it’s
Monday, September 17, 2007
LOVE
Psst......... Allow me to share with you a little secret. I’m falling in love.
And yes, I’m falling in love with my ward.
It’s been a heck of a ride these past few months. Adapting to the new ward environment and taking on the responsibilities of being a staff nurse, almost playing gawd to the patients under my charge.
But first, I would like to share with you a little about the people that have helped make life so joyous.
F4
This seriously cracks me up.
The moniker was coined up one fine day by an otherwise bored Zihui. She decided to christen the 4 newbies in the ward this because we were all talking about drama serials. And she said that this term seemed so apt for us.
Apparently, I’m Dao Ming Si – the leader.
Kristabel is Hua Ze Lei – the act cool one.
Zihui is Vaness – the ang moh.
And of course, Snoopy is Ken – the happy-go-lucky one.
I doubt many others would actually bother to remember the characters in the Meteor Garden series. But, you get my drift.
They’ve helped my transition into the wards to be a wonderful experience.
All my makan sessions with Kristabel and the gang have helped ease away the stress of a busy work day. And joking about Lao Lao and Ah Chow, never ceases to stretch my occularis oris sideways.
Incidentally, my waistline also seems to be stretching sideways.
My Preceptor
At first, she seemed to be cold and strict. Slowly, she’s becoming one of the few people that I’m beginning to learn to trust. She’s helped to guide me into the steam of things that follow in the wards. From patient education to pulling my weight with the doctors.
Often, she allows me the freedom to do as I please, bestowing a kind of trust that is, at the same time both flattering and exhilarating.
She makes me call the doctors who play the game of Tai-Chi, settle the hiccups that may occur, chides me when she feels I can do things better. At the same time, she understands my needs, allows me to get away with murder, and stands up for me when needed.
In short, she looks after me. Very well.
My Patients
I love them to bits. All the silly things that we do together, I’m really lucky to have met these people.
I’ve had to opportunity to mend broken family ties, been kissed a few times and traded hugs with many of them whom has crossed paths with me.
Their ‘thumb-ups’, sincere smiles, spontaneous laughter and little pats on the back soothe away whatever resentment I brew within. And even when patience thins and deadlines beckon, they never fail to make me realize why I am here in the first place.
Maybe that’s just why I get so pissed when I see them simply not having the care they deserve.
Yes, Assoc Prof Angelica, your decision to discharge Rm 40 is invalid. (inside joke)
The People
The ward staff is an eclectic mix of people from all walks of life. From the haughty, to the blardy damn weird, the beautiful to the hardworking, the downright freaking lazy slobs to the background wallpaper people.
Each has their own little place in the wards.
Where else can you get such drama outside Caldacott Hill in little ol’ Singapore?
The Men
Yes, this category of adds spice.
By this, I’m specially pointing out :
- The cleaner(s) – whom I swear I never said were cute
- KC – which Kristabel insists is my lover
- Gary – whom I blatantly blast is HER lover, and is by the way, loving admired by the other cleaner and particularly voluptuous staff
But I think I’ll keep this topic under wraps for now =)
And dedicate an ENTIRE entry on their antics! RA i tell you!!
Psst......... Allow me to share with you a little secret. I’m falling in love.
And yes, I’m falling in love with my ward.
It’s been a heck of a ride these past few months. Adapting to the new ward environment and taking on the responsibilities of being a staff nurse, almost playing gawd to the patients under my charge.
But first, I would like to share with you a little about the people that have helped make life so joyous.
F4
This seriously cracks me up.
The moniker was coined up one fine day by an otherwise bored Zihui. She decided to christen the 4 newbies in the ward this because we were all talking about drama serials. And she said that this term seemed so apt for us.
Apparently, I’m Dao Ming Si – the leader.
Kristabel is Hua Ze Lei – the act cool one.
Zihui is Vaness – the ang moh.
And of course, Snoopy is Ken – the happy-go-lucky one.
I doubt many others would actually bother to remember the characters in the Meteor Garden series. But, you get my drift.
They’ve helped my transition into the wards to be a wonderful experience.
All my makan sessions with Kristabel and the gang have helped ease away the stress of a busy work day. And joking about Lao Lao and Ah Chow, never ceases to stretch my occularis oris sideways.
Incidentally, my waistline also seems to be stretching sideways.
My Preceptor
At first, she seemed to be cold and strict. Slowly, she’s becoming one of the few people that I’m beginning to learn to trust. She’s helped to guide me into the steam of things that follow in the wards. From patient education to pulling my weight with the doctors.
Often, she allows me the freedom to do as I please, bestowing a kind of trust that is, at the same time both flattering and exhilarating.
She makes me call the doctors who play the game of Tai-Chi, settle the hiccups that may occur, chides me when she feels I can do things better. At the same time, she understands my needs, allows me to get away with murder, and stands up for me when needed.
In short, she looks after me. Very well.
My Patients
I love them to bits. All the silly things that we do together, I’m really lucky to have met these people.
I’ve had to opportunity to mend broken family ties, been kissed a few times and traded hugs with many of them whom has crossed paths with me.
Their ‘thumb-ups’, sincere smiles, spontaneous laughter and little pats on the back soothe away whatever resentment I brew within. And even when patience thins and deadlines beckon, they never fail to make me realize why I am here in the first place.
Maybe that’s just why I get so pissed when I see them simply not having the care they deserve.
Yes, Assoc Prof Angelica, your decision to discharge Rm 40 is invalid. (inside joke)
The People
The ward staff is an eclectic mix of people from all walks of life. From the haughty, to the blardy damn weird, the beautiful to the hardworking, the downright freaking lazy slobs to the background wallpaper people.
Each has their own little place in the wards.
Where else can you get such drama outside Caldacott Hill in little ol’ Singapore?
The Men
Yes, this category of adds spice.
By this, I’m specially pointing out :
- The cleaner(s) – whom I swear I never said were cute
- KC – which Kristabel insists is my lover
- Gary – whom I blatantly blast is HER lover, and is by the way, loving admired by the other cleaner and particularly voluptuous staff
But I think I’ll keep this topic under wraps for now =)
And dedicate an ENTIRE entry on their antics! RA i tell you!!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
INNER BEAUTY
When men say it’s not the outside, but the inside that matters. They’re not lying. They’re just stretching the truth.
Allow me to explain. Yes, through the years of evolution, the men have finally figured it out. The face of a woman makes up just part of the sales package.
It’s the underwear that does the preservation of the insides.
By this, I can’t help but mean – explicitly – the bits that should jiggle, bounce and entice nice, straight men.
Likewise, I can’t agree more. I also have this fascination; an obsessive compulsion for great underwear. In no way is this, a fetish or am I perverse, I just turn into hunting mode when need be.
Good bras help make average boobies look kick-ass and offer comfortable support. Helping boobies globally fight the evil pull of gravity. Lest we all end up looking like Lao Lao before hitting 60.
When men say it’s not the outside, but the inside that matters. They’re not lying. They’re just stretching the truth.
Allow me to explain. Yes, through the years of evolution, the men have finally figured it out. The face of a woman makes up just part of the sales package.
It’s the underwear that does the preservation of the insides.
By this, I can’t help but mean – explicitly – the bits that should jiggle, bounce and entice nice, straight men.
Likewise, I can’t agree more. I also have this fascination; an obsessive compulsion for great underwear. In no way is this, a fetish or am I perverse, I just turn into hunting mode when need be.
Good bras help make average boobies look kick-ass and offer comfortable support. Helping boobies globally fight the evil pull of gravity. Lest we all end up looking like Lao Lao before hitting 60.
Boobies should never end at the waist.
Good panties possess Harry Potter powers of invisibility under skirts/pants/jeans and don’t peek over the waistbands of our low-waist-ed counterparts. There’s absolutely only one thing more disgusting then exhibitory undergarments.
And that is UGLY, DIRTY, MOTH BITTEN exhibitory undergarments.
I follow these simple rules :
Granny undies should be burned.
Do you really want your granny’s undies to be waaaay fergilious then yours?
You should never buy second hand undies – now that’s just blardy unhygienic.
Always get nice undies –
Good panties possess Harry Potter powers of invisibility under skirts/pants/jeans and don’t peek over the waistbands of our low-waist-ed counterparts. There’s absolutely only one thing more disgusting then exhibitory undergarments.
And that is UGLY, DIRTY, MOTH BITTEN exhibitory undergarments.
I follow these simple rules :
Granny undies should be burned.
Do you really want your granny’s undies to be waaaay fergilious then yours?
You should never buy second hand undies – now that’s just blardy unhygienic.
Always get nice undies –
You never know when you’ll be sent to a hospital. Really. And you never know if the doctor/nurse/medic is going to be cute.
I just love nice underwear to bits. I think they’re the sexiest item of clothing anyone can own. And the style speaks volumes about the wearer’s personality, both the visible and otherwise.
I have the power to wear anything I want to on the inside.
I buy underwear in all colors and styles. All cuts and finishes. In lace and microfibre. From cotton to satin. I love them all!
Seamless! Sport Supports! French Lace! Embroidery! Lycra! Ribbons! Whatever!
Recently, in a desperate (and equally lame) attempt to return to their roots in nursing, the hospital decided to revamp their current uniform style and color. From the original distinct and hardy (color) to the boring and mundane white.
I had to chuck my current rainbow bright colored undies for a range of muted tones, in case they decide to scream beneath the layers. And yes, my ever expanding butt is not food - I do not wish for it to look like a leg of ham forcefully tied up in string.
I swear I will never repeat bringing Mashi Maro to the wards on my butt again.
As usual, I have gained weight through the past months. What used to be a very loose, oversized uniform, has transformed into something rather fitted. But, I can only brainwash myself into thinking that my hot water rinses are responsible for shrinking the uniform. I just need to accept the fact that my blossoming womanly curves can no longer be contained.
Utter Rubbish.
I’m just getting fatter. Nabeh. *bangs head*
So yes, in case you’re wondering, Kristabel and I managed to get some new underwear from the John Little sale at Expo Hall 4. The Pierre Cardin Young Hearts (yes, indeed, they’re not only meant for just the young in age) range was damn cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. At $10/set, what better steal can there be elsewhere?! Bras were from 2 for $5 to max $30/pc.
I just love nice underwear to bits. I think they’re the sexiest item of clothing anyone can own. And the style speaks volumes about the wearer’s personality, both the visible and otherwise.
I have the power to wear anything I want to on the inside.
I buy underwear in all colors and styles. All cuts and finishes. In lace and microfibre. From cotton to satin. I love them all!
Seamless! Sport Supports! French Lace! Embroidery! Lycra! Ribbons! Whatever!
Recently, in a desperate (and equally lame) attempt to return to their roots in nursing, the hospital decided to revamp their current uniform style and color. From the original distinct and hardy (color) to the boring and mundane white.
I had to chuck my current rainbow bright colored undies for a range of muted tones, in case they decide to scream beneath the layers. And yes, my ever expanding butt is not food - I do not wish for it to look like a leg of ham forcefully tied up in string.
I swear I will never repeat bringing Mashi Maro to the wards on my butt again.
As usual, I have gained weight through the past months. What used to be a very loose, oversized uniform, has transformed into something rather fitted. But, I can only brainwash myself into thinking that my hot water rinses are responsible for shrinking the uniform. I just need to accept the fact that my blossoming womanly curves can no longer be contained.
Utter Rubbish.
I’m just getting fatter. Nabeh. *bangs head*
So yes, in case you’re wondering, Kristabel and I managed to get some new underwear from the John Little sale at Expo Hall 4. The Pierre Cardin Young Hearts (yes, indeed, they’re not only meant for just the young in age) range was damn cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. At $10/set, what better steal can there be elsewhere?! Bras were from 2 for $5 to max $30/pc.
A steal I say! Gimme gimme gimme MORE…
We even saw some bras so big a singular cup could pass off as an N95 or fill enough water to feed hundreds. Thousands. The Entire World. Which also reminded me of Chicken’s 80cents humungous granny underpants from Chinatown still rotting at my place. Hehehheheee..
And panties in all cuts and patterns, ranged from $5-$10/pc. I bought mine for $15.90/3pcs. And what made it even cooler was the fact that the cashier didn’t scan them in. So, in the end, I got them for free.
WAHAHAHAHA… I’m in undie heaven.
In case you catch me swaggering down the halls with a smirk plastered across my face, you can bet your ass I’m wearing something POWERFUL and something that could possibly burn into memory.
We even saw some bras so big a singular cup could pass off as an N95 or fill enough water to feed hundreds. Thousands. The Entire World. Which also reminded me of Chicken’s 80cents humungous granny underpants from Chinatown still rotting at my place. Hehehheheee..
And panties in all cuts and patterns, ranged from $5-$10/pc. I bought mine for $15.90/3pcs. And what made it even cooler was the fact that the cashier didn’t scan them in. So, in the end, I got them for free.
WAHAHAHAHA… I’m in undie heaven.
In case you catch me swaggering down the halls with a smirk plastered across my face, you can bet your ass I’m wearing something POWERFUL and something that could possibly burn into memory.
Or maybe just stark, raving mad with a panty pulled overhead
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