One week is all it takes to kill me but I still have two more weeks with these living thing we call 'children'. That means by the end of two weeks, I'll be worse than dead. I dread vital signs soooo much. I just have to walk near them and they will start screaming. Putting the thermometer under their arms was like stabbing them continuously with a jagged edge dagger. Taking their blood pressure is as if I'm breaking their bones and crushing their flesh. So what do I do after vital signs as 9am? Nothing. You want me to go talk to them? Play with them? Please...I just want the ward to be quiet until the next vital signs.
What's the most upsetting event? Parent thinking I'm tormenting her precious 11th child. I'm like...gimme a break. I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do. I'm not going to be gentle and gugu gaga with your child when she's all violent and abusive. Medication has to be administered. Then? Tak payah give? Who's gonna give? Doctors? Right. You slowly wait la. Then ask why can't discharge home, why haven't recover, why this why that. Yee...over protective parents make me...what's the word? Loya. Yeah, that's the word. This is one heck of a ward I find tougher than psychiatric ward. Children...argh!!!
What is my consolation? The gay doctor is in my ward! Yay! I was thrilled to see his oily hair after a year until I realize he is gay no more. Hmm...people changed huh? He is more funny when he's gay. Lol...no names here. Another interesting thing is to watch a lady administering asthma puff to her baby with a chamber. The 6 month old child lying oblivious on the soft bed. The lady jab the chamber abruptly onto her tiny face, sent her frail body sinking into the bed. Her tiny hands were all over the place. Lol...
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