Heart of a Medic

2 out of 3 days of hospital attachment; i've seen enough blood thru all the accidents, and mind you; it's not Hollywood that i'm talking about here. It's real, fresh blood splurting from patients crying out for their mothers, or the name of a certain deity. Real patients with bones so broken, it reminded me of my constant bone chewing habits during lunch and dinner. Majority of these patients experienced what we call an "open fracture" - bones that are fractured and protruding out of the flesh, causing massive bleeding. And as the medic there, i had to help clear up the mess and bandage the casualty, i can't simply stand there and watch, i had to do something, my medic instinct soon took over me. No matter how small it seemed, i was willing. Guess in these fleeting moments i experienced what they call "the heart beat of the medic" - to save lives, reduce suffering, show care, concern and compassion to all those i treat. The single most important lesson i learnt - It's easy to treat a patient, you just simply follow procedures, stop the bleeding, infuse the patient with normal saline or glucose 10% etc. But the most difficult thing is to go to the patient's level, to look the patient in the eye and assure him that you're in good hands. To smile and bring comfort to them in their moment of pain - that is the very beating heart of the true medic. I've treated many elderly folks, and i'm simply disgusted (if thats the right word to use) by the lack of attention that these people recieve from their own children - their own flesh and blood whom they brought up with sweat and blood, and now they're simply left alone to fend for themselves. These are the people whom i refer to as "the forgottens of our society". The quest for money, power, status, career, and more money, more power, more status, more career has turned us into animals, with no regards to those whom have seen us thru, with no regards to loving "our neighbours". Yes, we've created an excellent society, but at what price?! We have gained the world, but sold our souls in the name of progress and success. What's the point of being first in every international standard when our children don't even understand the joys of a happy childhood? I was blessed to have an extremely happy childhood (but no so true for the kind of friends i had as a kid...) I was active, i played soccer, i climbed trees, i particularly enjoyed "block catching" and "night cyclings". Now, as i look at my nephews, i'm quite sad to see that their entertainment lies only with the TV. I remembered that it was okie to fall down back then while learning to ride a bicycle, actually, it was the only way to learn how to cycle. I had a father who was willing to let me suffer cuts and bruises, he recognised that toughness can only be cultivated thru pain. My nephew is almost 10, and he can't even ride a bicycle. I'm simply appalled at what we've created - a generation of whimps, whiners, softies (no not the 7-11 kind).

Oh well, leaving you on a low note.

Sayonara