I felt it. This week, I finally feel at ease with my O&G posting. 'At ease' does not mean I am getting damn good in ObGyn, but I no longer dread walking into the labour room. No more paralyzing distress upon getting exclamations from my dear midwives such as,
"Doctor, patient OOZING!"
"Doctor, patient bleeding!"
"Doctor, baby stuck!"
Just grab my sterile gloves, and attend to them. It feels good to be more in control of situations.
When this kind of feeling comes, it normally indicates that I am moving on to another new posting soon which will put me back in square one, for culture shocks and steep learning curves, and plenty of situations for humiliations and culturing humility.
5 more weeks in ObGyn. Strangely but surely, I know I will miss the labour room when I leave. Gonna miss the assisting spot in a caesarean section, gonna miss the heroic response to a bleeding episiotomy tear, gonna miss the laughs and teamwork of the maternity staff.
But I will surely not miss the decelerations in CTGs, and exclamations from midwives such as, "DOCTOR, patient fitting!"
Unit trust, property, gadgets or.... Currently into my sixth month of active government service, it is pleasant to know that my bank account is steadily growing. At most of the time, we work so hard without counting the compensation we get for it.
And with these money in an inexperienced hand like mine, I am still pondering how to go about with the money. I have read enough and heard enough that it is no good to let it lie low in a lowly savings account, but instead make the money work for me.
So, lately my favourite reading piece had been Personal Money - the magazine. Sigh, this fooji is getting sucked into materialism. Help!!!
What does the frontpage of your favourite magazine say? Top 10 ways to lose weight? What are the two girls talking and giggling about at the bus stop? The handsome Korean actor? What is the latest squabble on the mainstream media and the blogs? Lawsuits? Government stupidity? Why is the labour room always packed with women in labour? We are rushing to meet our population target? Why is the Paediatric resident and the nurses so focussed on resuscitating the blue baby back to pink-ness? So that there'll be an extra potential criminal in this world? What are we striving for? For fame, glory, for money? What am I doing everyday? For a living, to please my boss, because I know of nothing else better to do or is it something else?
We fought so hard to keep the mother and the baby alive in the labour room. But there is plain disrespect for life outside. On the roads, on the darkest streets, where people sinned against each other, kill each other...
Meaningless. Everything is meaningless. Grasping for the wind.