tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296094702024-03-07T14:17:50.169+08:001st & last, do no harmdoc in private practice venting steam....because life is more than just stethoscopes, syringes & getting woken up at unearthly hours.dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.comBlogger875125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-83612500655973047652021-11-24T17:11:00.001+08:002021-11-25T01:00:52.886+08:00progress #2<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div>Went back to the pharmacy to get the medicine for the earlier appointment. Arrived 5.02pm and the queue no. was 1534 while 1517 was being served. It's definitely not a market place after 5pm. Maybe it's because they have a satellite pharmacy at another site. Maybe it's just that they are better organised now. Either way, I don't expect to wait beyond 30mins.<div><br></div><div>Syabas, MOH!</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-41907389414514906422021-11-24T09:09:00.001+08:002021-11-24T09:09:35.056+08:00Progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div>I left the house at 6.40am to fetch my mother at the nursing home about 15km away. Picked her at 7.25am - it was raining and cars were queueing near schools. When we reach the hospital at 8.15am, I thought it was going to be one of those days akin to a market place. When the ticket number given was 2018 (auspicious?) and the current number was 2010, I thought perhaps the hospital and/or MOH has got the crowds figured out. </div><div><br></div><div>It's 9.08am now and the queue no. is now 2017. Things sure has changed since the GH I remembered years ago.</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-74754311511378709432021-11-18T16:03:00.001+08:002021-11-18T16:03:50.077+08:00Circle of Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div>When I was younger, my mum used to bring back food from the office - food meant for her but she often forewent them to give us kids a treat. After more than 50 years, I still remember the cholera outbreak of the late 60s. Her team was tasked with vaccination of incoming visitors ftom Singapore, and she often brought home food provided at the vaccination site. One memorable treat was a bottle of Magnolia chocolate milk.</div><div><br></div><div>After I graduated, I was often given pens by medical reps promoting their products. Then came trips to conferences and currently, lunches were similarly provided by the medical reps. And now, I bring them home (lunches, not med reps!!) for my son to savour. Somedays, it's McD, other days it's Subway. Today it's Nandos.</div><div><br></div><div>Call it paying it forward, or one good turn deserves another.</div><div><br></div><div>I call it the Circle of Life. And I can hear Elton John singing in my mind.</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-15327064321145429982021-10-08T11:04:00.001+08:002021-10-08T11:04:14.518+08:00dashed dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div>He WhatsApped to me while I was at work. I commiserated with him for his failed attempt at plan B.</div><div><br></div><div>When I got home, I told him to focus on his strengths, and to return to his 1st love. Engineering.</div><div><br></div><div>In the scheme of things, Medicine had been a distraction. An after-thought. A mistress invading a longterm marriage. Just like me decades ago when I took up the new girlfriend and dumped the incumbent.</div><div><br></div><div>Move on and go back, boy, to the original plan A. I wish you a happy and stable career. God bless.</div><div><br></div><div>Man proposes but the Lord disposes. Amen.</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-25636284855761710362021-10-02T13:49:00.001+08:002021-10-02T13:49:09.677+08:00little mistake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div>Sudoku is where a little teeny weeny careless mistake disrupts the whole game.</div><div><br></div><div>Story of life.</div><div>π€£π€£π€£</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-54032212890478078752021-09-29T00:14:00.001+08:002021-09-29T00:44:58.169+08:00Chess<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div></div>In a cabinet filled with trophies, mostly my kids', there's one of mine that stood out. It was a 3rd place plaque in the state schools chess competition in 1974, and it was the highest position I was ever placed.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div>But I write this not to wallow in past glory but to reminisce on some of the best friendships I have fostered through the game. It is with much sadness that I remember Foo Howe Seng, the Muar District champ whose sudden and unexpected passing in 1976 shocked us. And especially, Wong Tzu Cheng, my classmate, partner-in-crime and best friend during our chess-playing and 6th Form days. </div><div><br></div><div>You both left too soon. π₯</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-9133581318147108952021-09-26T22:58:00.001+08:002021-09-26T22:58:54.269+08:00A ring, the ring<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div></div>Same people but different designations.<div>Like fiancΓ© and fiancΓ©e.</div><div>Like son-in-law and daughter-in-law.</div><div>And father-in-law and mother-in-law.</div><div>And so on and so forth.</div><div>Some cynically call the in-laws outlaws. </div><div>π€£π€£π€£</div><div><div><br></div><div><div><br></div></div></div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-65532335800177352162021-09-25T15:04:00.001+08:002021-10-08T11:04:46.207+08:00Future careerChecking the place out. It's not exactly what he wants to do but this degree is a prerequisite for his intended career path.<div><br></div><div>Que sera sera. Whatever he does, I hope he does it well. π<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div>The plaster<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div></div><div>The pose</div><div><br></div><div>2nd dose completed but the precautions will be maintained, for there is no certainty that a fully vaccinated person can't get Covid19, although the infection will be less severe.</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-21109940775008660172021-04-07T11:23:00.001+08:002021-04-07T11:23:47.534+08:00moneyMoney is NOT the root of all kinds of evil but the love of it is.<div><br><div>Today I was tempted by expecting to get something that didn't belong to me. Instead I received something smaller that did belong to me and learned to be content with that.</div></div><div><br></div><div>It is well with my soul. </div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-76457064631679344072021-04-07T10:12:00.001+08:002021-04-07T10:12:19.748+08:00back to blogging again. maybe. My case in OT is scheduled for<div>9am. I am in OT by 8.50 and by 9.05 my part is complete and ready to go.</div><div><br></div><div>The nurses start trickling in at 9am and prepare their instruments, and when I have done my part, they are still fiddling around. More like messing around because the microscope cover doesn't fit and the drill parts don't align. And these are nurses supposedly trained to assist in this type of surgery.</div><div><br></div><div>Another nurse is called in and she's the real trouble-shooter. Changed the microscope cover and fixed the drill bits and we're good to go. </div><div><br></div><div>I didnt measure my blood pressure but i did forewarn the OT sister that if I drop dead today, her OT nurses are to be blamed.</div><div><br></div><div>I need to rant and vent. </div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-49251056627647145112020-07-13T10:28:00.001+08:002020-07-13T10:28:17.253+08:00living next door to AliceJust feeling nostalgic.<div><br></div><div>This was a hit song by pop group Smokie in the 70s about not pouring your feelings to the love of your life till its too late.</div><div><br></div><div>I knew of 2 Alices in my younger days. One was a chance meeting with a budding lawyer, whom I read recently had been elevated to a Judicial Commissioner. Congrats!</div><div><br></div><div>The other was a student nurse at a hospital I was posted to. We were like Danny and Sandy in Grease... a summer romance but without the songs and dancing.</div><div><br></div><div>In the sunset of my life, there's always time for reminiscing. </div><div><br></div><div>Of what it could have been. πππ</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-66950395271234131722020-04-10T18:05:00.001+08:002021-04-07T10:17:43.077+08:00spaceman 2.0<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the midst of Covid pandemic. Hopsital in high alert and staff are in protective gear. No menteris here though.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">God save us all.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">πππ</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-9685403527977880502020-04-09T21:46:00.001+08:002020-04-09T21:46:05.837+08:00Spaceman I was oncall on Tuesday April 7th, when a 70 yr old patient with a myriad of medical problems developed breathing difficulty. He obviously needed respiratory assistance with a ventilator. He would be the archetypal patient most likely to be afflicted with COVID19. But because his test result would not be available for another 24hrs (a RT-PCR test typically takes 24-48 hrs to respond), I had to assume he was positive and take the necessary precautions for inserting the breathing tube to be connected to the ventilator.<div><br></div><div>There I was, attired like a spaceman - complete with N95 mask, face shield, head cover, long-sleeved gown, plastic apron and 2 sets of gloves. </div><div><br></div><div>Although the procedure took about 15mins, I was already feeling uncomfortably warm despite the ICU being A/C'd. </div><div><br></div><div>I salute to the frontliners who donned similar spacesuit, and who manned the booths and cubicles, nursing critically ill patients for hours while the rest of the populace remained safe in the confines of their homes.</div><div><br></div><div>It was with much relief that the patient was subsequently tested negative. I slept well that night. </div><div>π·</div><div><br></div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-61202199703793513022020-04-04T20:10:00.001+08:002020-04-04T20:10:39.415+08:00MCOThe Movement Control Order was imposed by the Govt on 18th March to limit the spread of the Covid-19 infection but it was only the last 3 days that I was completely homebound. <div><br></div><div>I ended up a couch potato, spending the time I woke up to sleeping time, often past 12mn, watching TV. Watched movies, caught up on Covid news, both locally and worldwide. Also caught up on an old past time, watching Wrestlemania on Astro.</div><div><br></div><div>Not having a exercise mill at home, I expect to gain weight by the time this MCO is lifted. I should be awarded a PJK by then - Perut Jalan Kedepan.</div><div>π
</div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-52412137034075728042020-03-27T15:45:00.001+08:002020-03-27T15:45:06.812+08:00sign of the timesThis Covid thing is causing havoc at all levels of society and no one is spared. People can't go out to sell their ware, food supply chain gets disrupted and the fear of getting infected and dying is palpable.<div><br></div><div>Case in point - my friend just bought something for me and as I was taking out my wallet to pay him, he waved and asked me to pay him online.</div><div><br></div><div>As if social or spatial distancing is not enough, now there a digital separation as well.</div><div><br></div><div>These are challenging times indeed. </div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-10302550264416890672020-03-27T12:04:00.001+08:002020-03-27T12:06:31.250+08:00pins and needlesAs I was rummaging thru some of my mother's stuff, I came across a familiar brown plastic box. True enough, it contains all sorts of sewing paraphernalia...spools of multicoloured threads, safety pins and even an old bees wax.<div><br></div><div>Gosh, she taught me how to do minor repairs to my clothes using these before I entered varsity. And she's still doing this.</div><div><br></div><div>And I've forgotten how. π’<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div></div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-79188416804883153402020-03-27T02:22:00.001+08:002020-03-27T02:22:59.266+08:00cometh the hour... There were several milestones in my medical career...<div><br></div><div>The 1st oncall as a houseman... </div><div>Setting the 1st central line and 1st intubation...</div><div>The 1st student nurse I dated.... </div><div>(To digress, there I was - a doctor dating a student nurse, when there was a time when I was a medical student trying to date a trained nurseπ) </div><div>The 1st postgrad exam passed... </div><div><br></div><div>I think one of the most difficult responsibilities is to treat your own family member. The emotional attachment often affects the decision you make and that's not always the most professional discourse. </div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, I administered the epidural for the wife's cesarean section, the general anaesthetic for the son's arm surgery, the intensive care management for my late father, and just earlier this week, the spinal anesthetic for my mum's hip surgery. </div><div><br></div><div>Not easy undertakings though because the margin for error just seemed to be narrower in these instances. </div><div><br></div><div>I am just relieved that in all those situations, it all ended well. Phew! </div><div><br></div><div>π</div><div><br></div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-72455498100860930532020-03-26T23:55:00.001+08:002020-03-26T23:55:45.714+08:00feeling goodYesterday, I managed to secure a box of 60 tablets of Hydroxychloroquine, an antimalarial drug with possible useful effect again COVID19. It was supposedly the last box in stock at that pharmacy. 2 of my colleagues asked if I could spare them some, so I passed to them 15 tabs each, which is probably what each of us need to prevent (not treat, which will require a whole box of 60) infection.<div><br></div><div>Today another pharmacy offered me another 30 precious tabs. I accepted, not because I need it now but maybe some other colleagues might need it in the event of another shortage.</div><div><br></div><div>One good turn always deserve another. </div>dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-46465533639822816542018-08-08T23:21:00.001+08:002021-09-29T00:42:22.629+08:00Our last summer<p dir="ltr">30 years ago today. </p>
<p dir="ltr">8th Aug, 1988 or more auspiciously remembered as 08.08.88.</p>
<p dir="ltr">5 friends, all medical officers at Penang Hospital, decided to spend an evening to commemorate the occasion. Dinner at a hotel restaurant, coconut pudding dessert and a dance at the Casuarina along Ferringhi beach.</p>
<p dir="ltr">It was our 1st and last dance together. Peter, Loga, Kavi and Dolly - thanks for the memories. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Love you all. πΊππ₯³</p><p dir="ltr"><a href="https://youtu.be/CyUZe8xRNnQ">Our last summer</a><br></p>
dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-40227440565765020702018-08-02T13:19:00.001+08:002018-08-02T13:29:40.560+08:00Piano exam<div dir="ltr">
This is it.....the finale.</div>
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The boy will be taking his Grade 8 music <u>exam</u> today. He has been religiously & conscientiously practising for weeks now, esp the last few days (& nites).</div>
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May he play not for himself, not for us his parents, not for his music teacher but for the glory of God.</div>
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Amen.</div>
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dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-89319222617013112682018-07-22T23:23:00.001+08:002018-08-02T13:38:10.331+08:00Breaching professional limits ?I seldom get very friendly with my patients, probably because they weren't sure if I were the buddy-buddy type. Most times I am not.<br />
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But Rz was a tad different. A 39-year old who came in for abdominal surgery, he speaks English like his mother tongue & with a sense of humour, too, both a rare coincidence these days. What clinched the deal was that he supports Arsenal as well.<br />
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Then the floodgates opened. He seemed a little cheery when I do my clinical rounds & we spent a good few minutes dissecting life in general. He seemed keen to cut down some weight (20kg, no less, I advised him!!) so I suggested to him to slow-hike up the neighbourhood hill. We parted on that optimistic mood.<br />
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I'll know if he's serious about the hill climb if I meet him on the slopes. Otherwise, all bets are off.dochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021242538740116343noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609470.post-48884132501368669162018-07-19T00:08:00.001+08:002018-08-02T13:27:56.434+08:00World Cup Final 2018Like in 2007, 2010 and 2014, we the ex-EC students managed to get together for a weekend of good food, drinks and camaraderie. We left school in the mid-70s but only in 2007 that decided we would meet at least once every 4 years on the weekend of the World Cup Final.<br />
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But this time I am touched beyond words.<br />
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I didn't arrange prior accommodation but someone offered to share his twin room.<br />
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I didn't have a car and someone else offered to lend me his.<br />
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These acts of random kindness overwhelmed me.<br />
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Thank guys. See you again in 2022.<br />
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