* Sick Business *

In this business (yes, healthcare is a business now. We call our patients "customers", after all), you will meet all kinds of people. You will learn so much about life that all the tv dramas will seem bland.

But what always seems to surprise me is a family's reaction when we explain about a patient's prognosis.

I saw a daughter's disbelief when being told that her 80-year-old mother's breast cancer is too advanced that chemotherapy and radiotherapy will not help. I saw how she struggled to register reality. I listened as she pleads; she is not ready to take her mother home. We transferred the mother to our palliative care unit.

I met a teary-eyed man one rainy Friday morning; his brother just passed away due to stage 4 prostate cancer. He initially refused to bring his brother home because he was afraid that his sick brother will be neglected during Eid preparations. His brother breathed his last breath on our palliative care unit bed; all alone.

A husband came the other day; he is the main caretaker for his wife who had a stroke 4 years ago. His wife is currently admitted due to pyelonephritis. He told me how, when his wife was in HKL, he took the bus and got lost trying to navigate using LRTs while going to visit his wife because his car broke down. He said, "Saya cakap dengan budak-budak ni (nurses), kerja mulia diorang buat ni. Seorang suami boleh jaga isteri. Isteri boleh jaga suami. Tapi anak-anak? Anak-anak saya pun tak boleh jaga dia macam ni."

Be interested in your work, peeps. I know our work is frustrating. But remember that satisfaction is not really from seeing your patients end up well (because, patients tend to find their way back to the hospital more often than they want to) but just knowing that you tried your best.