Mini-moments

While getting ready for work tomorrow and typing up a resume, I had the impulse to come over and blog a little about my twice-weekly occupational involvements (a.k.a. my job at the hospital) at a municipality 2 hours away from my place.

I've been having a great time, learning, actually...and there is always something new to learn everyday, new people to meet (and help)...newer moments to appreciate and think about. Believe me.

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The other night I was on duty, a mother and father brought in their 6 month-old kid who had been coughing all night. I checked with my stet, wheezes. I examined him all over and asked what that funny smell was...apparently, his mother had rubbed leaves on him. It didn't help him any and he was thus brought to the hospital. While the kid was being nebulized, I couldn't help but get a closer look. He was bright little kid...readily made eye-contact and responded right away. I couldn't help but soften up at the way he would stare at me with his big dark brown eyes and then smile, as if to say, "Hey Lady, let's play.."

But then again, which baby wouldn't? I have a soft spot...no, a weakness for babies. All it takes is a smile, a coo, or a sign of little distress, and I'm taken. :-p This was a funny little naughty baby, too. While I was examining him before sending him home, he reached out and kept playing with the zipper of my jeans... I had to laugh, and I went, "Aww...your kid is so cute, Mrs. X..." "Buyag, Doctora...".   And then I said it again after a  few more minutes of examining, and the she goes, "Buyag..." and then she asked if I were pregnant or something.

I laughed, and I assured her that I was not.

(It's a superstition in some parts (especially in the general area where I work) that saying "Buyag" or "Puera Buyag" to someone who praises your kid's looks, or attributes will be a countercurse, so that any evil spirit in the midst would think twice about harming their kid. She asked if I was pregnant too, 'cause it was possible that I had taken a fancy to her son. )

 (Haha, nothing could be further from the truth...me being pregnant, I mean.)

After reassuring her that that was not the case, and then sending them home with strict instructions and a prescription, I realized that the kid did remind me of someone that I used to be friends with, funnily enough. But then, I just smiled and  thought nothing of it afterwards...I was a sucker for babies anyway. :-p

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There was this 40+ year-old lady who came in because she couldn't pee properly. The history and PE revealed that there was indeed an infection and it was causing significant urinary problems. She came in that night in distress because her full bladder had her in terrible pain. We treated her. She was a nice lady, very trusting and followed my instructions to the letter. I was touched when she said that it was such a big problem for her, even making love (and intercourse) was painful...when it really didn't have to be (because the root infection was treatable). One time, during a check-up, she apologized for having arrived late because she had to walk two hours from where she lived (in the mountains) to get to the hospital...

(And there I was, complaining about my two-hour bus ride...she obviously had the rougher end of the deal.) Anyway, since she was such a good patient, and she took all the prescribed medications, things worked out extremely well for her. She got cured. And it was definitely something to feel good about. Everything worked out well, no more pain...not in just the usual bathroom rituals, even in making love. :-p

(:-p Of course, that's always a  good thing for patients.)

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A 7 year-old kid's foot got burnt after he attempted to put out a burning piece of plastic by stamping on it with his foot. Do'h. :-p Well, his foot got really bad and swollen...it was a second degree burn and was really painful, he couldn't sleep at all, that was why they brought him there. I cleaned it and dressed it, after giving him pain meds. All the while, he was silent, quietly observing me while I picked at it, not saying a word...even  until after I cleaned it, and until his mother hoisted him up and proceeded to carry him to head for home.

I was writing on his chart, oblivious to anything else, because I had already given instructions...and then the next time I looked up, he looked at me and smiled. A small, innocent smile. And then he was gone.

Maybe it was a thank you smile, or something, but for whatever its worth, that made my day.:-)

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The"mini-moments" can mean a lot, too.

~ S.

P.S. Good luck on your interview, A. :-) Break a leg (or should I say, "Charm the panel to death?". (And have fun in BookSale afterwards dayon. hehe)

Never Cry

July 7, 2009 - Entry on Death of CR, 5:10pm, Holy Child Hospital

“Never let a patient and his family see you cry…”

One of my teachers back in internship year told us that a physician was not supposed to shed tears, or to show weakness in front of the patient and his family in the event that he/she was right with them when they died.

You were the doctor, she said. You were therefore expected to show composure, and be onjective when everyone else was emotional and not thinking rationally. However, if you couldn’t help yourself, the best thing to do would be to excuse yourself into some back room, where you could cry privately, preferably alone, with no one around to see you. And then when you’re done, you go back to your patient’s room and face everyone, acting as if nothing ever happened.

Call it coldness, call it being stoic, but when it really comes down to it, the patient’s folks would appreciate it if someone were more in control. Calm and collected under the intense pressure, giving orders as needed.

To be objective is to avoid clouding one’s judgement with sentiments so one can focus on the task at hand and act on it effectively. Problems that arise from medical management are settled more easily when one decides from a perspective unmarred by emotional entrapments.

(Meaning: DON’T get too emotionally attached /involved. :-p)

I was thinking this actually, when I was standing there at the foot of the bed of my friend’s father, Uncle Dodong, as he lay dying.

Three days earlier, he was working, as usual, driving his cab around. His co-drivers saw that he had pulled over to the side and then was seen to have lost consciousness. They thought he was just taking a nap, so they left him alone, and almost one hour after, they noticed that he had begun to turn blue (medical term: Cyanotic). They then rushed him to the nearest hospital where resuscitation was done. He was said to be pulseless when they examined him initially, and a defibrillator was applied to charge his heart back to pump, judging from the burn marks on his chest.

He was revived somewhat, admitted to the ICU and maintained on medications while being attached to a mechanical ventilator to help him breathe. There were times when he’d open his eyes and seem to glance about things in the room, but he never really gained consciousness. His attending physician explained that because of the delay in getting help, he had already suffered massive damage to his heart and brain due to lack of proper oxygen deliver y to these tissues. The chances of a full recovery were therefore nil.

In the end, his family decided to let him go, after much tearful discussions. They could no longer afford to pay for the prolonged time in the ICU.

And so, I’m writing this while I sit in a coffee shop here in the city,because just a few hours ago. I kept on asking myself whether it was okay to cry in front of the others. My instinct in situations like these is to keep up a stiff upper lip so I can , hopefully think straight.

But then, I realized that I wasn’t there as a physician, I wasn’t there to examine him and he was not my patient.
I was there as a friend. I was there, in the last few minutes of his life as a friend of the family, as an adoptive niece, as a person who cared and mostly as a person grateful to have known such a good and kind man. He was a good father to his children, and a loyal and faithful husband to his wife, Auntie Sonia.

Here was a good man, a person who I respected in our community, and someone who always supported our group of friends when we were putting together our community projects some years back. He would offer his house for our club meetings, as well as give me a ride home when I needed one (he always had good timing, passing by school during the busy rush hour.) He was quietly, a strong presence in our community, an honest man who did an honest day’s work all the time.

I was there too, standing at the foot of his hospital bed, quietly brushing away tears that I could not keep from falling. Saying goodbye always, always gave me a reason a sense of profound sadness…”

(Goodbye, Dear Uncle Dodong, thanks for everything! We will defintely miss you.)

Rest in Peace, Carmelito Rojonan

Random Taxi Pic

Proactive?

(The taxi guy posted this on his taxi's window. Influenza A (H1N1) was declared pandemic. I seriously doubt this could help. But still...it could work. A little.)