It was one of those days again.....

The lights were red at every traffic light you passed through.

The bus in front stops at the bus stop to let down a million people and you have to wait until it pulls out.

Stepped out of the car to find that I was wearing my market sandals.

Late to punch in at work.

The waiting room was already crowding with patients.

News of death.

News of ill health.

Everybody looked tired and demotivated.

Evening, it started to rain heavily. The umbrella was in the car.

Went to pick up my daughter at school.

Got home. Ran to open the gate and rushed in.

Got wet.

Once indoors, the rain stopped.

House Call

The phone rang. You know how sometimes you get this sickly intuition that there was an urgency in the call you are yet to answer?...These were one of those calls.

Mum had called earlier that evening saying that dad wasn't feeling too well. He was having a headache and they had run out of paracetamol. I had just come home from work, and I said I'll be there as soon as I changed out of my yucky germ infested clothes and had something to eat.

While eating, the phone rang again.

It was my brother. He was basically rambling words of an unknown language on the phone. I told him not to panic and washed my hands and took my kit of medical whoo haas.

As I arrived, dad was slumped in pain while holding his head.

Quick history of what, when, where, how long, why and any other symptoms, I gave him some paracetamol.

I hated family consultations. Not that I don't like giving the service, please don't get me wrong. But the burden on the responsibility of having to decide something like this was nerve wrecking. I usually over treat.....

Ok, but this might not be a good idea, as over treating him might cause undue stress which may lead to other things.

His blood pressure was fine, his neurology was intact, his ears were a bit bunged, and he hadn't had his glasses changed in a while...and that was about it.

So, big breath in, I said he was relatively fine. (Honestly, he had a headache, which could be due to anything). The advice given was if it persisted or got worst, to call me again and to go to a hospital that had a neurologist.

I waited for a wee while for the paracetamol to kick in.

It kicked in, and he was more comfortable.

Mum and dad are notorious with regards to compliance. They are both diabetic and hypertensive. What I say never have an effect, but I guess that's part of being the role of a daughter more than a doctor.

Dad is ok now, but he is very fragile. Any stress can tip him. And as the only medically trained, I am honoured to be the house physician.

Moving Away From Familiarity

We began the day early. I had googled our destination and printed it out, as my little man became my co-driver. We were going to drive into Kuala Lumpur city! Usually we took the commuter train, as I have never dared to drive into KL. It's about time I did.

Once into Jalan Raja Abdullah, take the first left, then left again.

We ended up in a dead end.

Next time, its back to the Commuter trains.

As a doctor, death, disability and morbidity is part and parcel of the job. But I will never get used to it. I hope I never will. The sorrow will keep me humane.

Regardless what age, what health, what status, what wealth we have, our next minute on this earth is never guaranteed.

Though our fate has been written, the time of our birth and the circumstances of our death has all been set from the time we were in our mother's womb, the news of any death still rips me to pieces.

May her child rest in peace in Allah's protection. May she not feel the guilt and accept this as a testament of Allah's love to her and her family.

Al-fatiha.

Correction

Because of Allah Ta'ala.....

Correction to my previous entry.

I shouldn't need acknowledgment from others.
I should know that for what good deed we do now, for our good intentions, the fruits of our effort will be given to us, if not on this earth, in the life after.

Forgive me, for I am weak.

Taken for granted

Again, its been a wee while since this blog was looked into.

Life has been busy.

I am currently on a weight losing programme. It is very effective. It is a combination of stress, a new helper and the sense of being unappreciated with a pinch of being taken for granted.

I am grateful for my recent success, and I thank Allah for all the rezeki that he has given us. My eldest has also completed his exams and he had put in all his effort in it. I am definitely blessed with good children. New job is challenging, and extremely stressful. It certainly doesn't help with the clashes of the Titans in the Power Department as 2 of our most senior national heads are not at par with each other.

As a result, the service we are trying to provide is being affected.

Home life, mum in law is here staying with us. The children loves it when she comes as she will tell stories of their daddy's childhood and that makes them all happy.

Me? Trying to handle everything and everybody except myself. My late husband once said I had to be more assertive. Otherwise, people will walk all over me and take me for granted. I am a nice person. I like helping people. I think too much of other people's feelings and not enough of myself. Though I don't consciously expect anything in return, it saddens me (and angers me too) when it is taken for granted. I just can't find the fine line from being assertive to just being an ass. So, in the end, I will just let people be and do as they please. They will loose my respect though, and I won't stick around hoping to be acknowledged. That just sounds so desperate. I have too many important and better things to do.

But, I take this all as a lesson. We learn as we grow (older). Life experiences enriches us. And I am very rich in that.