Sticky: Hiatus
Rewind four years back – I used to write so often to the point where people had trouble catching up with my entries.
Fast forward to today – my entries are so few and far between that people have stopped coming because there’s nothing interesting to read.
Sorry for the MIA-ness. I’ve been pretty troubled lately and my mood’s taken a nosedive.
I promise I’ll be back.
Edited @ 10.59 P.M.
Seems like my post was giving out the wrong message! I wasn’t lamenting about the quietness of this place, visitors-wise. Rather, I was contrasting between the sparse updates now, and how much I used to update in the past.
To my readers, thanks for the continuous support and for seeing me through everything!
To that doctor at Serangoon Gardens who examined my mum for presumptive gout late this afternoon.
All this while, my main point of contention was the obvious fact that you were displaying a blatant lack of Emotional Quotient (EQ) and that you have to be more mindful of your tone when dealing with your patients.
You, on the other hand, chose to hurl personal insults at me and demanded me to get out of the room – which I must say, is extremely out of line and highly unprofessional.
For one, you were practically barking orders at my mother right from the very second we entered the consultation room, in that superior, holier than thou tone which you adopted throughout the entire consultation session.
No, I am not picking on your outright frankness (unlike what you seem to think during the whole argument) when you practically spat the following words out at my mother – “At your age, first your knees give way. Then, your neck gives way. After that, your heart will also give way!”
Frank is good. But surely, there is a much better way to phrase that?
Add that on to the fact that you were constantly affirming your position as a medical professional – and how we should only listen to you and not anyone else’s advice, and how we shouldn’t argue when you tell us what to do and such.
Superiority complex, hello?
That was what I called you out upon. But you chose to miss the point altogether, deeming me as misinterpreting what you are saying, telling me that I am oversensitive and that I argue too much – even going to the point of saying that “I will never get a boyfriend because I am like that“.
WHAT. THE. ****?
You boasting about how doctors make use of laboratories, medical technology and theories and “keep emotions out of the picture” to treat a disease does not change the fact that you have terrible EQ. In fact, it only affirms my observations about you.
Dude, you fail to see the difference between emotions, and showing empathy.
You do not friggin’ treat a patient as an inanimate entity in which the disease is located. You treat the PATIENT as a whole – taking into consideration how they feel and paying attention to their rights (respect and dignity included). Not just the disease.
Then, you tried to defend yourself by saying that in the medical profession, words are thrown out the way they are. And even cited examples of how words like “going to hell” and “the patient’s going to die” are thrown around carelessly during lectures.
You’re still missing the point of my argument.
See here, my boy. How medical professionals talk to one another is none of my effin’ business. The crux of my argument is the fact that you are dealing with a PATIENT. Here is where ‘the ability to deal with people on a compassionate level’ comes into play.
Patients have genuine concerns, and are in most cases, either worried or anxious about their condition. Having to deal with doctors like you does not make things any better.
You seem to have this impression that just because you are a doctor who ‘heals people’, you are this superior being who possesses extraordinary powers and how people should marvel at your godliness and bow down to your feet.
Which was probably what led to your outright display of indignation (coupled with the ‘get out of the room’ remarks and personal insults) when the daughter of your patient decided to call you out on your misdoings.
Please. Get off that pedestal you’ve placed yourself on already.
You may have all the necessary paper qualifications, several years of service and experience behind your back, or whatsoever credentials it takes to become a doctor.
However, as long as you have a zilch EQ, terrible bedside manners, and that type of attitude you displayed today, you have failed in your duty as a doctor.
P/S: For the record – no vulgarities were spewed during the actual argument with said doctor. And I was struggling to keep my tone steady despite the verbal assault I was receiving from the other party. GRARR. ANGRY.
Here’s me recounting one of them’ hilarious scenarios (or rather, an example of how us older’ folk are comparatively um … less innocent than the little kiddos) from last week’s trip with the extended family.
It was me and two teenage cousins lazing around on the bed watching Youtube videos on my laptop, when we chanced upon a parody of Black Eyed Peas’ “I gotta’ feeling” (which also happens to be my favourite parody of all time) retitled “I’m a Korean”.
You can take a sneak peek at the view here. It’s utterly hilarious, I kid you not.
(Disclaimer: I highly doubt the video creator meant any offense against Koreans, neither do I. The video was made by its rightly creator for the sake of humour, not to stir shit or whatsoever.)
Apparently, in that video, there were several lines that sparked peals of laughter among the cousins and myself.
Quote 1:
I have a missile
It’s very small
It’s in my pants
I can’t get it up!
Honestly, I’ve watched the video many times before and never made the connection between the above and the male organ. Until one of my teenage cousins began laughing at that point which was when I finally made the connection (and was astounded at how much the 14-year old girl cousin knew).
Quote 2:
I think Michael Jackson’s a good guy
I don’t mind if he sleeps with young guys
Because in my country
we can touch young guys on their p***s.
This was the part that led to loud eruptions of laughter, along with repetitions of the very last line, along with that censored p-word.
It was only seconds later when we suddenly fell silent because we had completely forgotten that 7-year old Nicole, along with 3-year old Rachel were sitting just right beside us. (And the video, if subjected to the stringent checks movies undergo, will quite possibly be rated at least M18.)
There was an uncomfortable silence for a while, before the dreaded question came.
Nicole blinked once, twice, looked at us with a completely innocent, blur expression and asked, “Gor gor (Mandarin for ‘big brother’), jie jies (Mandarin for ‘big sisters’), what is a penis?”
We remained silent, and simply exchanged helpless glances. We really did not know how to answer her.
The youngest of my teenage cousins eventually responded sheepishly, “well, you’re too young to know!”
Later that night, all of us were blasted (albeit, jokingly) by the oldest cousin, who happened to be the father of both Nicole and Rachel.
“WHAT HAVE YOU ALL BEEN TEACHING MY DAUGHTERS?” the oldest cousin demanded. The two teenage cousins concerned and myself simply gave him a dazed look, trying our darnest best to look as innocent as possible.
“What have you been telling them, man?” he questioned again. “Why did my two daughters suddenly come up to me just now and asked me what is a penis?”
That was when we erupted into peals of laughter again for the second time that day.
Little Nicole at that moment, decided to show of her newly acquired knowledge.
“I know! I know what a penis is!”
We looked at her.
“CUCKOO BIRD!”
Ohmygoodnessgolly.
Oh, and earlier that afternoon, the same couple of teenage cousins were rattling on and on about um … erections and stuff. And they are only … what? Fourteen? And the other is twelve.
Gee, they do start sexuality education reeeeeeally early these days.