Monday, February 13, 2006

"you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"

I had a patient ‘+’ (RIP) on me today.

My first time. It’s umm… I dunno. I have to start getting used to this one way or another I suppose. I was assigned to him since yesterday. He’d been in the ER for what seems like forever (6 days) ‘cos there just wasn’t an empty space in the ward. 13 year-old boy; motorcycle accident; GCS (Glasgow Coma Scale: 5) meaning he’s unconscious and almost a veg. His heart rate had been racing all night which subsequently made him breath faster. All the work must have tired him out ‘cos this morning for no freaking reason he decided he didn’t want to breathe anymore. I was taking a short power nap on the medical records desk [it’s been f*cking long night-lah OK, besides we have to do an additional 4 hours on Saturday shifts so don’t judge me *sshole!!] when I glanced up to make sure things are OK [I have a phobic habit of jumping up and doing that] I realized that people were gathered around someone. Miss EwiEwi and I immediately pranced up to check what was going on. The matter was our patient. Wished he didn’t choose to act up on our shifts. He could have waited just 2 more hours for the next bunch to deal with him. I didn’t really know what to do. I’ve never had a person apnea (zero breath) on me before. Mr Hotstuff took over the reigns and started to bag (assisted ventilation) him. *swoon* I took over halfway ‘cos it’s my patient so I should be the one bagging him. Bagging is HARD work, pumping air into one’s body is actually VERY tiresome. It’s no wonder CPR only lasts for a maximum duration of 30 mins. Mr Hotstuff was really sweet, he stood by me the entire time… mainly watching over my actions and getting me out of trouble. I mean he didn’t have to do that ‘cos he’s not my ER-buddy or the chief-co (ER intern chief-of-the-day) or anything. G*DDD this boy’s such a sweetheart.
(conversation)Mr Hotstuff: You need help?
moi: No, it’s OK. *bagging*
Mr Hotstuff: You sure?moi: Yeah, sure.*for awhile there’s silence*
Mr Hotstuff: You are strong. I know …

I didn’t get what he meant by “You are strong. I know that.” Like WHAT?!! I figured it was probably just language barrier since his English isn’t as great as Ah Uto’s or even Ah Manurung’s. I took it as a compliment ‘cos the tone of his voice sounds so. But it could also mean that I never give boys the opportunity to help me: the whole independence crap. Am I really this stubborn? Do I always wanna do things myself? Should I have feigned weakness and let Mr Hotstuff be the man? I dunno. It just seems so unlike me.

He was in a bad state. I suppose his family knew it too. They decided to “pulpak” (pulang paksa) after all. I didn’t really understand what was happening with the Sundanese language and having to monitor his breathing so Mr Hotstuff helped settle administration stuff.

moi: What’s going on?Mr Hotstuff: They’re taking him But isn’t he on assisted ventilation?Mr Hotstuff: Which means if he’s not bagged, he can, like, NOT breathe (!!)
Mr Hotstuff: Yes.
moi: He can die (!!)
Mr Hotstuff: Yes. Euthanasia by family in a Oh. Right. Euthanasia by family. *tears start to well*
That’s how easy it is for us to suddenly stop existing in the world. Standing there over that young man as I pumped oxygen into his face, I realized that death REALLY comes that easily. And that’s it. The chapter ends. You disappear and people move on. It’s a disturbing thought.

P.S: I mean just because I think Mr Hotstuff is HOT does NOT mean I want to yank him off his relationship. Everytime I pass a remark that someone’s HOT, they’ll go “He has a girlfriend.” So what?!! I didn’t say “I SOOO wanna get him!!” I just think he’s gorgeous. He has a face of a sunflower [as opposed to his name]!! What’s the harm in that? It’s like me going to somebody’s house and finding they have this exceptionally beautiful vase on their mantel piece. All I wanna do is marvel at it and it’s not like I’d be barbaric enough to stuff it down my bag!! Don’t people get the concept of admiration?

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