tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-166346302009-07-19T14:59:48.848+01:00Dap's Rant SpaceProviding random insights since '05.Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.comBlogger323125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-20886218882069743502009-07-19T12:37:00.006+01:002009-07-19T14:59:48.856+01:00Merry Miri Happy<div style="text-align: justify;">This is one of the rare weekends when I stay put in Miri because the parents and partner (in crime) came over. You know you really haven't been around much when you get lost trying to find your favourite a little-off-the-track supermarket in Krokop! The last few months my Miri was only limited to the airport, bus terminal, Ipohtown kopitiam and Bintang mall. But mostly on weekdays I see only the inside of the hospital's pharmacy department.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />(Sending love and a big sorry for Aunty J in Pujut 3 for nyadi anak buai batu since CNY.)<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But in all honesty I don't mind the travelling hours that much, 7 hours back and forth. My Friday nights I rather spend in the bus. Would it be more fun to stay in Miri where capitalism (thank you!) has brought Expensive Posh Ice Blended Coffee and Belle's Bookshop where there's always a book to buy? You bet. But I rather do the 7 hours investment; go home and give my mom the joy of fussing over a child now that the nest is empty, bantering with dad and fighting to foot the bill (he normally wins 'cos it's mostly his turfs we go to, and naturally, the bill bearers will side with him). I rather go home to Tiki. Merry, merry happy indeed.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I'm not really good in dealing with the Impending Situation. Until recently I have been cushioned by denial and buffered by hope, hope that when the time comes I will be able to send partner in crime off with a smile, for if that's the last image of me that you're going to see until a year has passed (video conferences excluded), it better not be the image of me all splotchy with tears. I know we will be okay la, considering that I hardly get to see you in the last 5 years, but love, as it turns out, doth stand the test of time, and the test of being VERY apart. We'll be okay, it's just that I'm a bit of wuss about having you away again, when we're in a very good place now.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I don't believe in the capriciousness of events. I believe in Divine Providence. I think we're in Good headed towards Something Greater. But all in good time. So in the mean time I have to chill and stop the cause of eye puffiness (btw thanks Clarins) - because you're still here! :))<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-2088621888206974350?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-74118026285106536672009-07-09T03:32:00.002+01:002009-07-09T03:59:05.098+01:00Something viral came this way<div style="text-align: justify;">I know I can be impulsive, but I am also apparently impulsive <i>and</i> stubborn. Which is why I am here at home in Bintulu thanks to a two days MC. I INSISTED on driving home yesterday because I was feeling blue in Miri. In the end I decided that it would be foolish indeed if I drove home without my parents blessings, so I took the bus. I've got a viral fever. I didn't need to do an FBC (full blood count) to know that it's not bacterial, if the persistent high fever and retro-orbital pain are any indications. So I'm home, but will be going back to Miri for work again tomorrow. I have been away for a week now, dang it, I feel SO guilty.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But I'm doing the hospital people a favour. No one wanted to hang out with me yesterday while I was waiting for my blood results (Dr M ordered a malaria test, just to rule out the possibility), I was told to stay away in fact, considering that I just came back from KL after all. Heenee paranoia (Van says it's easier to say than Haitch-One-Ann-One). Oh ya, except for Van. Thanky V!<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />It was surreal last night being home where mom and dad and C are. I guess mom misses having a child around to mother now the baby of the family is in college. But I loved the pampering. :) Though it does mean that I would have to finish my bowl of porridge (because it's nutritious) and no, I cannot take it with kicap (because it's fermented and not good for me). I also got the lecture about eating more nutritious food and eating vitamins because I seem to be sick a lot lately. Parents went for Holy Hour last night, so C accompanied me until they got home. It was good spending quality chilling time. :)))<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-7411802628510653667?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-90469814915383851732009-06-22T23:50:00.005+01:002009-06-23T00:07:17.967+01:00Twenty Five Years Ago Today<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/SkAN41F8jeI/AAAAAAAABTU/oVbjlq7UIz0/s1600-h/IMG_2012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/SkAN41F8jeI/AAAAAAAABTU/oVbjlq7UIz0/s320/IMG_2012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350291627292003810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/SkANnynPtkI/AAAAAAAABTM/BlO7tAP1grw/s1600-h/IMG_2015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/SkANnynPtkI/AAAAAAAABTM/BlO7tAP1grw/s320/IMG_2015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350291334568588866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Feliz aniversario, mom and dad!</span></span><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-9046981491538385173?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-11737031669622266102009-06-14T09:49:00.003+01:002009-06-14T10:58:19.007+01:00On obliging me my corny momentOver the weekend, I was grimacing over love letters from 8 years ago that C managed to find. I only managed a few lines before I stopped. Mortified bah. The teenager that was me was unbelievably corny.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Thank God I grew up and became <i>less</i> corny. My sister can hopefully attest to this. :)<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />My surrounding is strangely quiet now. Granted, it's nice being able to dig for booger (<i>n</i>. dried nasal mucus) without a care in the world, but I rather sit prim and proper at a table by the pool having Sunday morning breakfast with you. I rather sit slightly warmer in the car, pushing the aircon vents all towards you, knowing you're feeling the dry Miri heat. Heck. I rather relive trying to find the car in the basement parking lot when we were seriously potentially late for mass. Even if I have to half-jog with every one long stride you take.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />For what it's worth, I like how this doesn't get old. By now you'll think we'll get bored with each other. But we get better with time. Like wine.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Heart on my sleeve. And I said <i>less</i> corny, not entirely corny-free.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-1173703166962226610?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-47878047411478093042009-05-19T07:02:00.000+01:002009-05-19T00:03:07.756+01:00Paolo Nutini & (My) New Shoes<i>Woke up one cold Tuesday.<br />I'm looking tired and feeling quite sick,<br />I felt like there was something missing in my day to day life,<br />So I quickly opened the wardrobe,<br />Pulled out some jeans and a T-Shirt that seemed clean,<br />Topped it off with a pair of old shoes,<br />That were ripped around the seams,<br />And I thought these shoes just don't suit <a id="KonaLink0" target="undefined" class="kLink" style="text-decoration: underline ! important; position: static;" href="http://www.absolutelyrics.com/lyrics/view/paolo_nutini/new_shoes/#"><span style="color: rgb(0, 15, 255) ! important; font-weight: 400; position: static;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,Verdana,sans-serif;font-size:13;" ><span class="kLink" style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 15, 255); color: rgb(0, 15, 255) ! important; font-weight: 400; position: static;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,Verdana,sans-serif;font-size:13;color:#0000e0;" ></span></span></a>me.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Hey, I put some new shoes on,<br />And suddenly everything is right,<br />I said, hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling,<br />It so inviting.</i><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Hello new shoes, bye bye blues.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-4787804741147809304?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-78901255052962295142009-05-18T07:06:00.000+01:002009-05-18T00:06:21.255+01:00On being human & the greater moral good<div style="text-align: justify;">What's in a good Catholic? Perhaps it's not about being blameless, but knowing when to call on Christ for help. I pray to you dear Blessed Virgin, and all you holy ones. We need your intercession.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />My conscience, the Holy Spirit within me tells me so.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-7890125505296229514?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-82626152181263725612009-05-07T15:05:00.002+01:002009-05-07T15:17:59.784+01:00OptimismBut I suppose you have to have difficult days to appreciate the great ones, and tomorrow will be great because<br />a) it's Friday!<br />b) I'm going home for mommy's birthday, and<br />c) someone will be driving 200km up and back again. To bring me home.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But this could be me being perasan. :)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-8262615218126372561?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-66554565331839561122009-05-07T11:55:00.002+01:002009-05-07T14:53:18.447+01:00Big Boss<div style="text-align: justify;">Don't you dare talk democracy when you veto your way into everything.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />The U52 is an absolute idiot, I kid you not. He runs around like a headless chicken trying to change everything about this hospital's pharmacy when we lack manpower and the means to bring about change. I've never met anyone so unreasonable in my entire life. Why ask for our opinions if you're not going to listen? Why disrupt our work and call us for meetings when everything is already set in stone and it doesn't matter what kind of input or suggestion or concern we might have.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I had a moment after that. Aint pretty, and so not me, considering the fact that I normally keep a cool front at work. The rest were pretty livid as well.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I say, straighten out the kinks within the department first. Then only you talk about expanding pharmacy and mobilizing your whole department to do various 24 hour services.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"></span><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6655456533183956112?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-13901632045816713992009-05-05T23:22:00.003+01:002009-05-05T23:28:25.001+01:00Pineapple under the seaDr S to me on Monday: "Come on, Spongebob. Let's do our round."<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />And my Monday blues dissipated just a little.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-1390163204581671399?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-43872517994524204312009-04-29T13:20:00.006+01:002009-04-29T14:15:11.627+01:00JS<div style="text-align: justify;">Among the first few questions that my preceptor asked me in the beginning of male medical was "Can you handle death?"<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I said it depends.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />One of the patients whose case that I was actively clerking passed away today. Intracranial bleed. My last few memories was him breathing raggedly, even as I stood observing his cardiac monitor during the grand round. His BP was crashing, and I was the one who struck off all his antihypertensives from the meds chart, under the specialist's order. Menial task. But I remember being on high alert, scared that I would miss out on anything. The MO's and the ward sister and the preceptor was concerned with the fact that the wife seemed more concerned about his mouth ulcers when the crux of the matter is that the patient was dying and she should be prepared for his demise. I think she was in denial and I don't blame her.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />20 minutes later, when I was at the other side of the ward, still in the middle of a round, the nurses started calling the MO. The patient was bradycardic before going completely asystolic, which means his heart slowed down until suddenly, it stopped beating. The patient's wife was asking why isn't anyone doing anything. The ward sister looked distressed and asked the MO to please could someone counsel the wife again about the patient being not for active resuscitation. I looked askance at my preceptor. I don't understand the business of not for active resuscitation. I mean, I do understand it, but I find it morally difficult to grasp. Even if it's technically not wrong to not try and bring back to life. At least that's what I remember from bioethics and flipping through the Catechism of the Catholic Church, but I may be wrong so do correct me.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />The heartbreaking thing was when the daughter and son tried to perform CPR. The family refused to let him go. When he was finally pronounced dead, I saw the wife started falling apart. Heaving, gasping for breath sobs. As I walked out of the ward, I had to bite my lips. They are taking out the biohazard bag, already starting to do clean up. I had to pinch my fingers. Do not get emotional. Do not cry. But then I saw the daughter outside, silently crying, sitting dejectedly in a corner. I cannot help myself but walk over to her, put my hand on her shoulder and told her I was sorry about her dad. I walked away to go for the mortality meeting. Thank God for the meeting. I wouldn't want to stay in the ward to watch the aftermath.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Death can be so painful. I saw one last week, but that was so peaceful, I was quite happy to see him go, finally free from his emancipated body. Today was a bit hard to witness though. I said the Divine Mercy prayers as he died, so that was the most I can do. I love doing clinical, not for the deaths of course, but the intensity of it. It's different being in the ward compared to being behind the pharmacy counter where everything is clean and sterile and happy. It's difficult but immensely rewarding when the patients do get better.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-4387251799452420431?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-69648900416176411502009-04-25T09:59:00.002+01:002009-04-25T15:23:33.744+01:00Rookie Mistake(s)<div style="text-align: justify;">Hospital called me again this afternoon. One of the wards needed chemo supply. The dose was really off though. Had to call the HO prescribing it to see if he really really wanted to give it that frequent. New guy. Just reported for duty beginning of the week. Probably graduated early this year. V reminded me to be nice. But to give me credit, I wasn't about to give him a hard time about it LOLs.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Anyway, it feels weird when the doctor starts to apologise profusely for the mistake. Chill. That's why I'm there for. Besides, I know how it's like to be an intern. I am one.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6964890041617641150?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-58155290105830484682009-04-24T10:37:00.004+01:002009-04-24T13:34:19.481+01:00Oct 07<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/SfGRJ9mdT-I/AAAAAAAABSU/XP1hKb3ahY4/s1600-h/CIMG3884.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/SfGRJ9mdT-I/AAAAAAAABSU/XP1hKb3ahY4/s320/CIMG3884.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328199434496724962" border="0" /></a><br />Never thought I'd say this, but missing this hair length on me. But yala, the snip snip snip was therapeutic pre-finals.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-5815529010583048468?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-65447372491908703812009-04-24T01:21:00.002+01:002009-04-24T01:41:03.532+01:00ORS per purge Part 2<div style="text-align: justify;">So I am staying in again today. I was up already in fact, showered and was getting ready to go to work when suddenly I had a sudden need to go to the loo. An episode of diarrhea <i>and</i> vomiting. Nothing left in there but bile. I'm hungry but I can't keep anything in.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Had to go back to the hospital to get another MC from Dr N in the ward who started to look a tad concerned. Preceptors asking me to do a BUSE, which means blood urea and serum electrolytes. Electrolytes normally get low in vomiting and diarrhea. I refused because (1) I don't want to be poked for the BUSE and (2) I don't want to be poked for the subsequent IV drips. I don't think it's food poisoning. Now the general consensus is that this is due to stress, and the fact that I'm now in male medical ward. Male medical is crazy. Only done paeds before, so one thing that struck me is how big the adult male patients are, and how much space they occupy. It's quite rewarding so far, even if the workload is much higher.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I'm actually on call this week but thank God, it's been safe so far. Someone is taking over my Saturday morning duty, so I just have to work on Sunday now, but I should be okay by then.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6544737249190870381?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-60236659412784543262009-04-23T02:38:00.004+01:002009-04-23T02:49:56.166+01:00ORS per purge<div style="text-align: justify;">Please, could someone remind me that I'm no spring chicken, that age is catching up on me, and I could not expect to be the same superhero in uni that can go without sleep.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I'm at home. On a work day. Nausea, vomiting and diarrhea are unpleasant, but I suppose I'm thankful that I have time to work on my clinical presentation #2. But seriously, the ORS is horrible. And I need to stop skimping on sleep.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6023665941278454326?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-36570208469756486932009-04-17T01:38:00.003+01:002009-04-17T02:23:55.571+01:00This is for RR<div style="text-align: justify;">I am in enforcement. Correction, I <i>was</i> in enforcement and now I'm in between enforcement and male medical. I can't speak much when I was in enforcement, because of the nature of the work involved. We inspect, we raid, we investigate, we prosecute. It's so different, and so far removed from the hospital environment. But the moment they told me about you yesterday, boy, half an hour after they stopped resuscitating, I was immediately transported back. Back to that month, where I used to see you five days a week in paeds.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />E told me you looked fine that morning. Nothing on the case notes indicated that somehow you would take a turn for the worse. You were only 12. You crashed and by the hand of God, you were gone. Not even 3 specialists and 3 mos can bring you back.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I remember you, boy. I remember the distinct smell of your room. Every time as I walked in and out the ward, I used to peek into your room, to see what you're doing. Sometimes you'll be sitting cross-legged on the bed, sometimes you'll be sleeping. Sometimes you will be smiling with your dad, sometimes he will be playing chess with you. I remember your dad weaving his fishing net. I know he loves you, he was always there with you. I remember the snowcap that you used. Just as your hair started to grow back in little tufts, another chemo course was started and the hair was all gone the next day. I remember issuing out the chemo drugs for your doctors. I remember the exact colour of your skin, I remember how your skin turned red with the cytarabine. I remember the infusion machines hooked up to both arms. I know you were not doing too well, but I didn't foresee that you would be gone either. Because we were doing all we can to keep you alive.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I feel for you, because you have stayed isolated in that hospital room for months. You shouldn't have died in the hospital. If I can choose, I wish you could be on a grassy knoll with the sun on your face. But no one would have known. For what it's worth, I just want you to know that you are remembered. That a lot of people feel pain at your passing. Myself included, and I wasn't the only one who cried. This may be a sign of weakness, the fact that I get so emotionally affected that easily, but I cherish it, because that's what makes me human. I never want to lose my empathy. Why shouldn't I grieve for a young life lost?<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />May you rest in peace, R.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-3657020846975648693?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-47738752092827402542009-04-09T01:45:00.004+01:002009-04-09T01:58:01.298+01:00Hot Cross BunsIt's Holy Week and Easter Triduum is starting. I am appropriately craving for hot cross buns. But shall I spend my day on leave kneading dough?<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I think not.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-4773875209282740254?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-74934978914627995842009-03-26T14:10:00.006Z2009-03-26T14:52:39.973ZVCC<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/ScuPUlE6E7I/AAAAAAAABRg/cu9j9Z3MmCI/s1600-h/IMG_4612.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GG3j5to7gr0/ScuPUlE6E7I/AAAAAAAABRg/cu9j9Z3MmCI/s320/IMG_4612.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317501368753853362" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">To my beautiful friend,<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I love the fact that I have you to be silly together with. It takes the edge of all these being adults business and responsibilities and impossible standards being thrown our way. It's unfortunate how sometimes the going gets real tough, but the tougher gets going. It's unfortunate when sometimes we have to cry. But I just want you to know that I'm always available for running around at night with Dog, for the cafeteria RM2.30 chocolate ice cream, for the chicken dances, for the going all starry-eyes in Belle's or Popular, for the bleeding money Starbucks mornings, for the cds in the car moments, for toasts in Kopitiam. It goes without saying that I'm always around if you need a hug, or a pair of listening ears. I just draw the line at <i>tapai</i>. Nasty stuff, that.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I'm glad we're doing this together (including the whole idol crush on Dr Spiderman and the freezing Sunday morning walks to St Mungo's back in final year). So skip along now, or do your chicken dance. I think you're awesome, and don't you forget that, or let people lead you to think otherwise.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Love,<br />Dap<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-7493497891462799584?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-60719557410347680692009-03-24T11:44:00.004Z2009-03-24T12:53:40.466ZStation #6<div style="text-align: justify;">Ok, guys, Dappy means business. So I'm plopped on the bean bag on the bed, case notes on the right, BNF within visual field and paeds protocol on hand. I'm ready to start working on the clinical case presentation this Friday (yes, it's already Tuesday, I know!)<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But first, social obligation to update this stuff. (And I know trying to do work when I'm on the bed is hardly going to lead to anything productive but I'm so tired and I still need to get this done so there's gotta be a compromise somewhere.) Anyway. I haven't been around much due to forensic, which is all over now phew. So as of Monday, I changed stations and for the next 2 weeks I'll be in the production unit, followed by 2 weeks enforcement. I'm missing paeds, so I've been going in and out, doing part-time clinical in paeds on my own accord, to clerk a few more extra cases and to do follow up. Had lunch with the paeds specialist head by chance, and went back to ward to see Dr Spiderman with the sniffles. My little J is fighting off the pseudomonas, my chemo guy is temporarily discharged home before his next chemo course, my neph syndrome boy is already on prednisolone, my severely malnourished girl is finally moving about, they still don't know what's wrong with pale little baby girl who likes my earrings and little A with the rashes and with fits.. they just found out he has a tumour in his brain so that's quite sad.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But yeah, clinical case this Friday so I'll be presenting one from the clinical month in paeds. Such sessions are notorious, so let's hope I won't look too shabby as a Swiss cheese after the whole thing is over. Banyak tembak-menembak going on, but not as horrible as That One Friday that left the interns all fuming. But I'm determined to show courage under fire. Go, me.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Weird transition from clinical where there's life and human emotions to the sterility that is production. It's so odd to be sitting in that unit removing shoes and wearing slippers provided if you please. Spent the last two days referring to master formula and provided assistance (by sticking labels) while making potassium chloride by the 200ml-bottles. The chloroform in it made me dizzy for a bit. Played with a huge 19G needle and a syringe to practise making amphotericin eye drops. I really wouldn't want to make any needlestick injury with <i>that</i>. Met my old friend the sterile room with its HEPA filter, laminar flow and UV light so everything is strictly aseptic in there. Haven't done the whole spacesuit thing since FMT in Semester 6 when everyone was all giggly looking at each other in their inner wear. Idiota.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I was given an ultimatum of sorts by the housemates today. Farewell trip to Brunei this weekend or else. But to the family and to Tiki, you must be happy I chose you guys, because I prioritize and I promised, and yeah, how many more farewell events for the same person la dey. So, Swiss cheese or not, whee! weekend home again for me, and I really need to start working on it. Ta.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6071955741034768069?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-77308849287603866972009-03-18T13:33:00.002Z2009-03-18T13:52:33.808ZListening to: Augustana<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;">"I am holding you by your right hand - I, the Lord your God - and I say to you, "Don't be afraid, I am here to help you.""<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><i>Isaiah 41:13</i><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Because the word of the Lord does not come back empty, and also because I was sitting down, scribbling down from Section 13 of the Registration of Pharmacists Act 1951, when E showed me this random verse she found tuck in her purse.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Please excuse me nerdiness, I have a forensic exam on Monday.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /></div>The boss is contemplating an A&amp;E project which means 12-9pm shift for the PRPs. Frankly it scares me a lot, because what am I going to do when I get thrown in that acute, emergency setting. I certainly am not trained for that, but at the same time, the prospect thrills me. But it's all just talk for now, so we'll see how it goes.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Third last day of paeds medical oh I'm gonna miss you lots, and you too you doctor who appreciates me. It's tiring sometimes, but most of the time it's pretty rewarding. Today was one of those uninspiring days, but I got through it. Spent the first two days of the week in Kuching for the forensic course. Pretty cool seeing the IMU batchmates from SGH (Sarawak General Hospital), especially Wei Meng, who is apparently hot stuff and the most eligible bachelor around haha! (this is for fellow P105-ers benefit) and Cherie Lai and her look-like-denim skirt. It feels like IMU lecture hall, just a bit, and it was comforting like that. I think I miss my batchmates.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-7730884928760386697?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-19827178475416652802009-03-10T22:45:00.003Z2009-03-10T22:58:37.446ZGlow<div style="text-align: justify;">Someone told me yesterday that she is envying the glow on my face.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Why, thank you. It's the combination of the weekend mental recharge, so to speak, and the fact that I had a baby with sickle cell anemia who got transferred to ICU. Sometimes I wish I am not so christina-yang about the patients I have to clerk. But the fact is, when 80% of admissions are due to asthma exacerbations, tonsillitis or febrile fits; it's hard not to get excited when you see a baby being given thrombolytic, because then you start to question why. Until you figure out sickle cell anemia can cause stroke, so 3 y.o. with a suspected stroke is whoa.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But yes, you still can envy the glow on my face. My weekend was goood. (Plus I went to this new facial place which was amazing, especially on the shoulder massages.)<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-1982717847541665280?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-25889426165102764672009-03-04T10:25:00.005Z2009-03-04T11:30:00.422ZMoral Crossroad<div style="text-align: justify;">I'm standing at the crossroad. I don't know what happened today, but I'm finding myself standing now, at the end of the day, at the crossroad.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />How do one gain the wisdom to judge what things in life are worth fighting for? When picking battles, how would one know which to go for? How do one gain the courage to change the things around them? How do one gain serenity to accept the things that one have no power to change?<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I love this hospital, but I <i>loathe</i> the politics. I hate. Hate. Hate.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Which is why I'm at this crossroad. My Christian side beckons me to forgive, to tolerate in silence, to pray for thy persecutors. My human side however begs me to lash out, or at least, speak up so maybe things can change for the better.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I want respect, I have my dignity, I have my integrity. I want to be able to look at you with respect and not with fear (plus respect can only be earned). I want to be not sick when I look at you. I want you to tell me when I make mistakes, not pick up the phone and bitch to your other cronies what stupid thing I did today. Tell me. Inform me. Reprimand me. Do not go behind my back. Do not let it simmer. Do not make it personal. This is a professional relationship, you have to tell me when I do mistakes, because first do no harm. This is not about you and me, this is about the patient we're treating. Which part of patient-oriented service don't you get?<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Ugh. Seriously, you guys are supposed to be seniors and the preceptors, dang it. So teach me.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Teardrops threatened to spill in the workplace, not so much of anger, but of tiredness and frustration. So which road to take now? Speaking up needs courage, but so does forgiveness. When in doubt, always decide for the greater moral good. You and I know where I'm supposed to go from here, but dear Lord, this is the hardest thing to do. When all I want to do is put my foot down and stand up for myself. When all I want to do is to hold on to the anger which I feel is very justified.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But because I know this is what you want, I'm praying for the desire to forgive, for the grace to be humble, for the strength to keep on smiling during hard times and for family and friends' shoulders to cry on when it gets too tough. And I also thank you for the seniors, the good ones who try to protect us from the bad eggs. I thank God that at least I know there are people who have my back.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Because this is the higher road I know I must take, eventhough my human instinct that yells self-preservation says no, I will take it, because this is the only road that can lead to anywhere worthwhile.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I'm sorry you readers have to see/read me when I'm like this. It's just that it really has been a trying day. But I'll be better, it's weekend soon and I'll heading home. :)<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><i>Afterthought</i>: Thank you, Lord too, for Vanessa. My nicest moment today was when she saw my distressed face when I put down the phone, came over and linked her fingers through mine. Thank you, because that was a great comfort, looking at our fingers interlaced like kids, our hands swinging lightly as we walked away from the office.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-2588942616510276467?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-68443910713823729382009-03-03T09:58:00.003Z2009-03-03T10:50:16.652ZOn case clerking<div style="text-align: justify;">Ok. So turns out paeds med is a horror if you need to clerk cases. The target is 100 cases by the end of PRP year, and out of the year we'll only be doing 3 months clinical. So I need to clerk an average of 33 cases per clinical month.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />But sigh there's only so much of tonsillitis and exacerbation of asthma and febrile fits and pneumonia that I can take. And these just require some antibiotics syrup or PCM so there's nothing much for discussion, really. I spent half the day dragging my feet in and out of the ward, totally uninspired. Afternoon when I went in, I checked the register and ah-ha, new admissions. One of the babies had steroid resistant nephrotic syndrome. I was immediately alert, and to my horror, I actually found myself pumping my fist in the air. But seriously lar, I became abashed a little, for while I had a new case with potential, the case is also actually a sick patient. So my gain = his pain.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Turnover rate in paeds is really really fast, children recovers fast. But there are 2 or 3 who are more or less permanent residents there, and sometimes when I do allow my mind to wander, I do wonder how it's like to just stay in a small room, separated from everybody else for months. How it's like to lose your previously waist length hair. How it's like to have tufts of hair today, and to lose them just overnight, the next day completely bald. How it's like to have IV lines set in both hands. How it's like to see the nurses and the doctors wearing protective measures, while setting up the infusion machine, while you, the patient, the medicine is going straight to your veins dang it, cytotoxic or not. Sigh. I hope they can get well. They're much too young to be facing illnesses like that.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Sick kids aside, hospital staff getting their blood screened. Did mine yesterday. The lab technician who drew my blood is this dude that I dispensed for a few times in OPD. I dont know whether I imagined it, or there seemed to be a look of glee as he presses gently on my arm, looking for a vein to poke. As if he's saying haha, my territory now. He totally scared me when he said it's a bit hard to find. Then, I clenched my jaw. I remembered the 10 year old earlier yesterday who had his IV line set (in layman's term they poked his hand with a needle), and he looked so brave about it. So I gathered some courage from that memory and I watched as he slowly pierced my skin, and I watched with morbid fascination as I saw the syringe filling up with dark coloured blood. My blood. His hands trembled a little from holding on to the syringe a little too tightly. That helped the blood flow somewhat. Finally, it's done and I went home with a plaster and a bruise.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />A bit scary but at the same time I feel liberated because I dared to watch it happen this time around.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6844391071382372938?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-36712504444846900612009-02-26T11:50:00.005Z2009-02-26T23:18:51.305ZGoliaths<div style="text-align: justify;">Let me tell you about <a href="http://www.xanga.com/sleepwalkintalkin/693849225/item/">this person</a> that I just got to know. A young, paediatric doctor. He is quiet and looks a bit on the serious side. But you should see him when he handles the little ones. He says a very quiet hi and one hand gently clasps the baby's hand, and his other hand laid on the forehead. Around his stethoscope is also a harmless-looking pink torniquet. And he used to carry around his Superman pen for the children to play with while he examines them, until he lost it that is. Adept hands that palpates, all the while reassuring the scared child. He is the epitome of gentleness. As I stand beside him, observing him while he writes in the case notes during the rounds, I wonder how is this person still standing given the personal grief that is still too recent it must still hurt.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />He smiles and there's the occassional chuckle. He is very good at what he's doing, and he is obviously a caring person. It's rare that you can say that about a doctor I think, when the diagnoses sometimes can get a bit impersonal, so it's understandable that one can't pay attention to absolutely everyone. But the feeling that I get from this doctor is that he gives every patient a bit of him, that personal touch, that extra length so it shows that he really cares. Still I question at the end of the day, how is he still doing this?<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />This person has just lost a sibling, and it's tragic when they die young innit. But he carries on ever so normally I did wonder if he felt anything at all. But a few days ago, I stumbled upon something personal (not that one can keep online things personal for long), it was a letter from him to his now-gone brother. Then I knew, behind that masked exterior is also a grieving heart.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />There is a lot that I have to learn from this person, I think. Like how to continue comforting when your heart too needs comforting. How to continue giving when you're running on empty. How to smile when your heart is bleeding. How to remain standing when you just want to drop down on the floor and bawl. There is much strength in his character that it astounds me, and the fact that he bears all in silence. I, myself, was feeling a bit blue yesterday over a personal matter. But then I remembered this person, so I pulled myself together, I stood a little taller and my heart a little lighter. The Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing I shall want. Despite things running off tangents, I will be happy.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />We all have our own personal Goliaths that we have to defeat. I thank God for yet another person in my working life who has inspired me in my daily little crosses. He is aptly named after that biblical character, I think. Plus, I'm beginning to really like it here in the paeds ward. Once in a while, while clerking cases, a little one would wander in my direction. I would stop what I was doing and I'd play with the kid for a while. It's nice working in a place like that.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-3671250444484690061?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-66529708477213401352009-02-26T11:02:00.004Z2009-02-26T11:40:32.827ZDad on Relationships<div style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;">My dad is so cute. He begins every email with a "Hi, love" and just 4 days ago, there was such an email. Guess what was the subject of the email?<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Entering a relationship.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I don't know why my dad suddenly emailed my sister and I about it, but he did. It began with a..<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><i>"Entering a relationship is normal and part of life. There are risks one has to take. But no risk no gain. Don't expect the first relationship to work out straight away sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. If they do, you are lucky if not move on and look for new friends. It's not the end of the world and it could be a blessing in disguise and God's way of saying the person is not His choice for you. "</i><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />Then, it went on to say<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><i>"Don't worry about the man of your life he will be there when the time comes and if not it is sometimes better to be single than married to a wrong man or ending up with a failed marriage."</i><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><i>"Men appear nice and goody during courtship stage but his real colour shows once he captures or gets you. Test him to see if he is suitable for you. Don't fall for his tricks and deceits. Be open minded yet evaluative."</i><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><i>"Have a blessed day. Love, Dad."</i><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span><br />I don't think everyone has hidden agendas, but I do very much appreciate the fact that my dad looks out after my sister and I. Sigh. I bet it's hard being parenting two girls.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6652970847721340135?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634630.post-67522788638357805952009-02-23T10:26:00.003Z2009-02-23T22:17:46.302ZGodspeak<div align="justify">I had the most amazing conversation with a stranger. It was a long conversation (turns out I became ular and didn't masuk ward at all today since my paeds preceptor is away) in that dingy, claustrophobic, poorly lit TDM room. With the new TDM pharmacist who just got home to serve after 2 years working (and 9 years studying) in kiwiland. </div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span></div><div align="justify">I don't know how it happened, but our conversation rapidly progressed into God-talk. She was just asking about the general working environment in this place, and we talked about What Happened on Friday, then wham. She said things that I didn't expect her to say, but they were spot on, she's a perceptive one, and things I needed to hear. "Take courage, and hang in there. I see a potential in you, and I know you are a caring person. You don't have to do big things to make an impact on patient's lives. God grants each person different gifts, so it's true you don't get to resuscitate patients like the doctors, or look after them like the nurses, but you'll be surprised to know that even a smile, no matter how insignificant the act is, can do a lot to make the patients feel better and cared for. Treated like they are human beings and not just a number you need to call out, or just another job that needs to be done. So don't feel frustrated."</div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span></div><div align="justify">Life is short. Death is certain. Forever is long. I wish I can remember all the things that we said in earnest to each other. I wish I can be articulate and describe to you how much this person has touched my heart today, with her being so unabashedly Catholic and very encouraging. It wasn't awkward at all, opening myself to her. We shared about miracles God has done in our lives, the moments when things got difficult and how we suddenly see the face of God, interior conflicts resolved by prayer. I honestly haven't done this since CSS. She still questions why she got Miri, and why TDM, at which point I told her, I don't know either what God has planned for you here, but I can tell you today, God's plan is for you to cheer up a PRP that you barely even know. </div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">.</span></div><div align="justify">She really did. I found God in the workplace today, where I need him the most.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16634630-6752278863835780595?l=daphiemaie.blogspot.com'/></div>Daphne Maiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17714641253412217744noreply@blogger.com3