The following entry may be entirely fictious or based on actual events. Either way, it is all up to the reader to determine fact from fiction.
Primum Non Nocere
We had an acute Hindi Movie Marathon last Friday evening in the ward. It came complete with PMS-sy doctors, pseudo hypnotized staff, unrelenting work and a free collapse!
While stocks last. Batteries sold separately.
Sickening back from her annual leave. Only this time, she brought a suitcase full of drama. As usual, she floated through the entire shift. She must think that she’s a butterfly, and her only bleddy job is to flit around the nursing counter.
Fly, fly, butterfly...-squash-
Luckily snoopy was on shift with me, else I would have mauled her then crawled back to finish the shit load of mounting work. While snoopy helped sickening to serve meds and IVs, I was left to do all the turning, changing and parameters on my own.
Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.
The worse thing was that sickening doesn’t bother to help when she’s free, preferring to plop herself on a plump chair or pose around the nursing counter.
Please lah. You’re no supermodel.
At around 8+pm, our patient’s blood pressure started to dip. She called the wrong doctor and the on-call doctor who came down was sooooooo super pissed because he had wasted time to walk down to our ward.
Over the phone, he ordered a quick infusion of fluids for the patient. Sickening had the cheek to ask him ‘how fast ah’?
Earlier in the shift, I highlighted to sickening that the patient did not pass urine for the whole afternoon. Her bladder did not appear to be distended when we palpated but with her continuous drip of 500ml/8hrly and persistent edema, I decided to do an in-out catherization to check if there was any acute retention of urine.
Residual urine revealed 60ml of tea colored urine. The patient was going into acute renal failure.
I told sickening to inform the doctor of the findings because pushing fluids might further crash the kidneys and went on with my mountains of diapers that needed changing.
It would be up to his clinical judgment to make the next move.
When found out that the patient was not under his charge, he started raising his voice at the counter, asking for the staff who had called him. We directed him to sickening. Angered by this episode, he later complained to my ward supervisors that we are not competent to nurse patients, stating that we were all huddled in the nursing counter and did not appear to be anxious over an impending collapse.
Please lah. You did not even examine the patient.
He said that the patient was not given any oxygen. The patient was on a 100% non-rebreathing mask.
He said that the patient was not being monitored. Hello, the Propac machine was by her side and showed the latest reading.
He said all the nursing staff were huddled in the counter. WTF. They were passing report. How else do you communicate? By telepathy?!
Idiot.
I then accompanied the correct doctor to attend to the collapse case, hooked up the heart rate monitors and informed the relatives while snoopy when to gather all the documentations necessary.
The night shift nurse did not want to absorb sickening’s work and insisted that she feed another patient the medication sickening had dispensed earlier. Sickening threw a dirty look but went as ordered because she knew fighting against the night shift nurse would result in greater drama.
So, sickening went to force feed the patient. 5 minutes later, she burst through the counter complaining that the patient had fought with her and fractured her thumb. Angrily, she harped long and hard about raising the issue with my supervisors.
In my most deadpan voice, I told her she could go to the A&E for an X-ray after she finished passing her report. Then, I went to check on the patient. I found him burying his face in a pillow, refusing to even look up. His right arm bore 2 lacerations and a huge bruise.
I just exploded.
I marched back to the counter and called my supervisor. This shit had gone too far. I told sickening that she should also raise an issue about the injuries sustained by the patient because they did not appear accidental to me.
Bitch.
Snoopy and I wanted to ease the burden on the next shift so we stayed back to help in whatever we could. Pity my supervisor though. Her afternoon shift stretched till 11.20pm.
Although sickening got 3days workmen’s compensation leave, snoopy and I still got questioned the next day by more supervisors. I did my best. Whatever you think is all up to you.
My conscience is clear.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Again
I’m recovering from my acute on chronic flare of Tourette’s Syndrome (read : uncontrollable leakage of expletives). The ward is still saturated with work and shitty happenings. I’m still pulled in many directions, complete with impending deadlines and hard starts.
All of which I have no power against.
Though it’s getting easier to deal with.
All of which is mainly thanks to the continous support from my loved ones.
Thank you..
Being in the service line is extremely taxing. The bitchy customers to deal with, sickening egotistical colleagues to haggle through, meeting the sky high expectations of my supervisors and the never relenting shit load of work that I earnestly drag myself up for to feed my family and self.
Still, its better then getting beaten.
Quite recently, Rihanna’s bruised and battered face was the talk of town, or at least the entertainment circle. Who would do this to her? The suspect in question is none other then her boyfriend (more like boyFIEND) Chris Brown.
It’s a pity to witness anyone being abused to this extent. And it is a fact that abuse is not contained to the uneducated or poor. Many will scoff at the way she handled matters, especially when she patched things up with Chris Brown and made excuses for his alleged behavior.
This flimsy excuse of being human and making mistakes just cannot be accepted.
And most certainly, nobody deserves this type of shit.
Ross doesn’t understand how a woman can be so stupid. Well, some things are not as easily understood as others. My heart really goes out for her. She expected a loving relationship, not an abusive one.
It’s not easy to separate yourself from an abusive relationship. After all, what began as a hopeful partnership, with all the trappings of romance was never intended to lead to this.
Who can predict a future of violence when love blinds us to all the little clues and build over time? All the abuser is interested is securing their own power in the relationship and has no qualms using whatever means necessary to secure an iron hold on the other party.
A sublime brainwashing that reoccurs time and time again.
By the time anyone realizes, the slight of hand multiplies in frequency and you find yourself settling for violence as normalcy.
When the evidence of abuse is brought to light, you can be sure this is not the first time it happened. And yet, entangled in betrayal, fear and confusion, the victim still finds herself being drawn back into this shit hole of a life.
Jaime Foxx says it best : “No man should ever put his hands on you. No man should ever touch you….I don’t care if he’s 8 yrs old on the preschool, playschool ground… 100 yrs old, it doesn’t matter.”
I hope people realize the implications abuse has both on the perpetrator and the victim, because either one will end up dead in the complicated chaos violence breeds. My heart goes out to everyone with the misfortune of enduring violence.
The only way is out.
Have faith.
Have strength.
Have hope to walk away and live a life worthy of what you really deserve.
I’m recovering from my acute on chronic flare of Tourette’s Syndrome (read : uncontrollable leakage of expletives). The ward is still saturated with work and shitty happenings. I’m still pulled in many directions, complete with impending deadlines and hard starts.
All of which I have no power against.
Though it’s getting easier to deal with.
All of which is mainly thanks to the continous support from my loved ones.
Thank you..
Being in the service line is extremely taxing. The bitchy customers to deal with, sickening egotistical colleagues to haggle through, meeting the sky high expectations of my supervisors and the never relenting shit load of work that I earnestly drag myself up for to feed my family and self.
Still, its better then getting beaten.
Quite recently, Rihanna’s bruised and battered face was the talk of town, or at least the entertainment circle. Who would do this to her? The suspect in question is none other then her boyfriend (more like boyFIEND) Chris Brown.
It’s a pity to witness anyone being abused to this extent. And it is a fact that abuse is not contained to the uneducated or poor. Many will scoff at the way she handled matters, especially when she patched things up with Chris Brown and made excuses for his alleged behavior.
This flimsy excuse of being human and making mistakes just cannot be accepted.
And most certainly, nobody deserves this type of shit.
Ross doesn’t understand how a woman can be so stupid. Well, some things are not as easily understood as others. My heart really goes out for her. She expected a loving relationship, not an abusive one.
It’s not easy to separate yourself from an abusive relationship. After all, what began as a hopeful partnership, with all the trappings of romance was never intended to lead to this.
Who can predict a future of violence when love blinds us to all the little clues and build over time? All the abuser is interested is securing their own power in the relationship and has no qualms using whatever means necessary to secure an iron hold on the other party.
A sublime brainwashing that reoccurs time and time again.
By the time anyone realizes, the slight of hand multiplies in frequency and you find yourself settling for violence as normalcy.
When the evidence of abuse is brought to light, you can be sure this is not the first time it happened. And yet, entangled in betrayal, fear and confusion, the victim still finds herself being drawn back into this shit hole of a life.
Jaime Foxx says it best : “No man should ever put his hands on you. No man should ever touch you….I don’t care if he’s 8 yrs old on the preschool, playschool ground… 100 yrs old, it doesn’t matter.”
I hope people realize the implications abuse has both on the perpetrator and the victim, because either one will end up dead in the complicated chaos violence breeds. My heart goes out to everyone with the misfortune of enduring violence.
The only way is out.
Have faith.
Have strength.
Have hope to walk away and live a life worthy of what you really deserve.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Mis(s)Fortune
I’ve been plagued by a bout of mother f*cking suay-ness recently. Pardon the excessive use of expletives, but my temper hasn't been really great. Everything from home, friends and work’s been clouded by an unshakable layer of misfortune.
It’s like I’ve become a magnet for all things bad.
Everything that I come into contact with gets sucked through an invisible sieve, leaving only adversity behind for me.
Everyone is advised to avoid me. I'm not in the mood to entertain more effing drama. I'm soaked up to my eyeballs in shit here.
I can't remember smiling in a looong while. Everything's just been bleddy sickening. People just piss me off for the slightest thing. Sometimes even for no rhyme or reason, I just feel bubbling with frustration.
Initially, I had hoped to wipe this slate clean by having a holiday. You know, the age old saying of “chong xi” or “to wash with happiness”. However, the misfortune persisted despite my best efforts.
Perhaps it bred and spawned.
Recurrent slews of calamity. Hiss… Over and over again.
If misfortune ever could take on a physical form, I would like to bitch-slap it and give it a taste of its own medicine. *shakes fist*
At the moment, I’m wrecked.
Exhausted.
It's taking quite a toll on me, leaving me just drained and weary. However, my life is quite private and these snippets should be edited out from public scrutiny.
Why wash dirty linen in public? I'll dry clean in private.
Though just because I keep up appearances doesn’t mean I’m always fucking euphoric.
It means I’m dealing with it my own way.
Ross forced me out the house today, insisting it would serve no purpose to mope around the house or continue to wallow in self pity. It was near 8pm when I dragged my deshrivelled self to IMM where I pigged out on super oil soaked LJS, accelerating my path towards coronary failure. Hurray.
Cheebye. Hai, I just just needed to swear.
The time out did cheer me up a little.
I know I’ll be ok. I always pull through.
One way or the other.
I’ve been plagued by a bout of mother f*cking suay-ness recently. Pardon the excessive use of expletives, but my temper hasn't been really great. Everything from home, friends and work’s been clouded by an unshakable layer of misfortune.
It’s like I’ve become a magnet for all things bad.
Everything that I come into contact with gets sucked through an invisible sieve, leaving only adversity behind for me.
Everyone is advised to avoid me. I'm not in the mood to entertain more effing drama. I'm soaked up to my eyeballs in shit here.
I can't remember smiling in a looong while. Everything's just been bleddy sickening. People just piss me off for the slightest thing. Sometimes even for no rhyme or reason, I just feel bubbling with frustration.
Initially, I had hoped to wipe this slate clean by having a holiday. You know, the age old saying of “chong xi” or “to wash with happiness”. However, the misfortune persisted despite my best efforts.
Perhaps it bred and spawned.
Recurrent slews of calamity. Hiss… Over and over again.
If misfortune ever could take on a physical form, I would like to bitch-slap it and give it a taste of its own medicine. *shakes fist*
At the moment, I’m wrecked.
Exhausted.
It's taking quite a toll on me, leaving me just drained and weary. However, my life is quite private and these snippets should be edited out from public scrutiny.
Why wash dirty linen in public? I'll dry clean in private.
Though just because I keep up appearances doesn’t mean I’m always fucking euphoric.
It means I’m dealing with it my own way.
Ross forced me out the house today, insisting it would serve no purpose to mope around the house or continue to wallow in self pity. It was near 8pm when I dragged my deshrivelled self to IMM where I pigged out on super oil soaked LJS, accelerating my path towards coronary failure. Hurray.
The view from the 6th floor open carpark.
A breathtaking reminder that life IS beautiful.
Patrick and I also hunted down the capsule machines where he got some cars. Incidentally, he also gave me 50 cents even though I had been really evil to him for the past 2 days.
Maybe one day you'll realize the kindness behind my cruelty.
I chose the Hello Kitty LCD cleaner charm at $1/pc. The set has 8 different designs. Perhaps I should make collecting the whole set my motivation to scrape through each day since I've finished reading all 4 books from the Twilight Saga. Hah.
I will re-read each book soon.
complete with a rainbow. perhaps an omen for happier times?
Cheebye. Hai, I just just needed to swear.
The time out did cheer me up a little.
I know I’ll be ok. I always pull through.
One way or the other.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
