2 months away from the main hospital and yet, nothing much has really changed. Oh how I miss the working environment in Princess Margaret - even more so now that I am back at the main. There was something about the previous attachment that was still endearing to me.. sigh. :s

I've met some of the best people back in Princess Margaret. Its true what they say that it is the people around you who shape your experience - and mine was moulded at its very best in that red building. I had the most perfect mentor that anyone could ever ask for - Friendly and funny? Check! Motivating? Check! Patience? Check! Flexible? Check! And he did what he did the best - mentoring.. Even though, I had missed out our appointments a couple of times :/ - he still patiently noted down the next time slot I was available to discuss issues and cases with him. Oh Mr T, I heart you! Hands down, the consultants at that red building definitely won awards for being all-round kind, enthusiastic teachers.

I could still vividly remember my previous homeward. First floor, turn left from the stairs. The big blue doors. The long corridor to the ward reception and the tiny doctors room. The 3 round tables which serve as patients' dining 'room'. The TV lounge area with walls pasted with various flags. The vivid smell of antiseptic (early in the morning).



I remember one patient, small elderly lady with fine white hair. She had a kind smile. I had seen her a few times propped up on her bed, glimpsing smile to every staff who happen to peek through the door. I had never bothered to approach her till one day my mentor asked me to do a mini mental state exam on her. I learnt from her score that she has dementia. As a general rule, people with dementia have broad cognitive impairment which includes memory problems. One of the questions I asked her in the test was to write a sentence on a piece of paper. After what it seemed like a humongous effort in her part, 5 minutes later she handed me back the paper with the words "have you seen the sun today" scrawled in tiny handwritings. I saw a hopeful and somewhat childish twinkle in her eyes.

I take so many things for granted. Even something as cliche as sunshine. It had never occurred to me before that she is one of the many room prisoners who are cooped up indoors. I take so many things for granted.. everyday things like walking and talking. Especially walking. I could never imagine for the life of me how it would be like to be immobilised - even though somehow, people survive and do strive. I learnt that I was and still am, afraid of amputees. Ask me to go and scrub in for a horrendous long surgical procedure or see head injuries in ED or witness whatever gruesome procedures , InsyaAllah I'll be fine. But ask me to go and see a patient's bandaged stump and look at his wound, I am afraid. Very afraid. My knees go weak. :/ Ngilu rasanya.. And the anatomical abnormality was just too.. stark, too frightening, too alien.. And I will be clutching on my own knees trying to feel that my legs are still attached to them.



Nowadays, when I feel sad, I tell myself that in the grand scheme of things, my (perceived) ill fate fare nowhere near others'. Like I repeatitively said before, I take so many things for granted - its nice to be reminded every once in a while.

[note: gambar sekadar hiasan (huhu) - as taking and posting pictures of my own patients aint ethical.] 0=)