Autumn....
Photo taken by siew wai on a very cold autumn day....
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
the high and low of the world that I work in
It has been 18 months since I started my ICU training. Is this what I really want to do? Yes and I enjoy doing this . Very much.
Having said this, like what my best friend said, this is a very unnatural environment to work in. The burden and stress can be exceedingly huge, because we often have to deal with life-and-death situations, well, almost on a daily basis. And not everyone gets better. Some make it , some don't.
There is always the presence of family and friends by the sick bed. Some come alone, some in a group. Some stay for the whole day, some just a short while.
But most of them who come are those who care deeply for the sick ones.
They usually sit by the patient's bed; sometimes they hold the patient's hands, sometimes they don't .
But all of them do one thing in common. They often stare at the patient's face for a long long long long time. (By the way, most of these patients in ICU are deeply sedated and on life support, i.e. they are in induced coma)
I always wonder, when they stare at their loved ones, what's on their mind? In their mindscape, what do they see? Or what are they trying to see or recall?
Are they having flashback moments of their sick old mother or father? In their mindscape are they reliving the moments when their mother or father held their little hands and walked them to school? The moments when they played with them in the park? Now the old mother is sick. Her hair is sparse and silver. Her skin wrinkles and sags. She is on the verge of dying. They stare and stare and stare at her, eyes are red and filled with tears.
On the other hand, some of them play an opposite role. They are the parents of the sick man. Sick man has not looked after himself throughout his life, he drinks his liver and smokes his lungs to death. He is very sick and also is on the verge of dying. The parents come every day. They wobble in with their walking sticks, and struggle to sit down. They too, stare at their child for a long long long long time.
What's on their mind? Are they reliving the moments when he was still a new born in their arms? What happened after that? Why did he go astray? Do they blame themselves for the path that he'd taken? Their eyes, are always filled with tears too.
I've seen a father who refused to believe his son was(and still is) in vegetative state. The young patient was discharged from ICU 7 months ago. I bumped into the father last month, shocked but sad to find out that his vegetative son is still in the hospital. He comes in every day to clothe, feed and care for him. I said bye to him, and saw him dropping his head and shoulders and dragging his feet on the very long corridor in the hospital.
Some visitors are neither the parents nor the children of the sick ones. They are the spouse(s).
Some have lived their lives together for 10 years, and for some others, 70 years.
What's on their mind when they stare at their husband/wife? The day when they first met and fell in love with each other? When the girl was youthful and beautiful, and the boy was toned and charming? And are they reliving the moments of fighting and hurting each other, and let their own hearts be filled with remorse. If only they could reverse time and treat each other better, love each other more.
I've seen old men who gently stroke the hair of their sick wife. I have seen old women who put their head on the chest on their sick husband. Not talking. Just staring. Just treasuring the last moments of thier company.
This is the environment that I work in. Not entirely it, but this is the valuable and emotional bit of it.
ICU has not just taught me clinical knowledge; it has put life-and-death right in front of my eyes. It's taught me to thank God for life, for health, for parents, for my fiance, for my loved ones.
So ICU still for me? Absolutely yes.
Having said this, like what my best friend said, this is a very unnatural environment to work in. The burden and stress can be exceedingly huge, because we often have to deal with life-and-death situations, well, almost on a daily basis. And not everyone gets better. Some make it , some don't.
There is always the presence of family and friends by the sick bed. Some come alone, some in a group. Some stay for the whole day, some just a short while.
But most of them who come are those who care deeply for the sick ones.
They usually sit by the patient's bed; sometimes they hold the patient's hands, sometimes they don't .
But all of them do one thing in common. They often stare at the patient's face for a long long long long time. (By the way, most of these patients in ICU are deeply sedated and on life support, i.e. they are in induced coma)
I always wonder, when they stare at their loved ones, what's on their mind? In their mindscape, what do they see? Or what are they trying to see or recall?
Are they having flashback moments of their sick old mother or father? In their mindscape are they reliving the moments when their mother or father held their little hands and walked them to school? The moments when they played with them in the park? Now the old mother is sick. Her hair is sparse and silver. Her skin wrinkles and sags. She is on the verge of dying. They stare and stare and stare at her, eyes are red and filled with tears.
On the other hand, some of them play an opposite role. They are the parents of the sick man. Sick man has not looked after himself throughout his life, he drinks his liver and smokes his lungs to death. He is very sick and also is on the verge of dying. The parents come every day. They wobble in with their walking sticks, and struggle to sit down. They too, stare at their child for a long long long long time.
What's on their mind? Are they reliving the moments when he was still a new born in their arms? What happened after that? Why did he go astray? Do they blame themselves for the path that he'd taken? Their eyes, are always filled with tears too.
I've seen a father who refused to believe his son was(and still is) in vegetative state. The young patient was discharged from ICU 7 months ago. I bumped into the father last month, shocked but sad to find out that his vegetative son is still in the hospital. He comes in every day to clothe, feed and care for him. I said bye to him, and saw him dropping his head and shoulders and dragging his feet on the very long corridor in the hospital.
Some visitors are neither the parents nor the children of the sick ones. They are the spouse(s).
Some have lived their lives together for 10 years, and for some others, 70 years.
What's on their mind when they stare at their husband/wife? The day when they first met and fell in love with each other? When the girl was youthful and beautiful, and the boy was toned and charming? And are they reliving the moments of fighting and hurting each other, and let their own hearts be filled with remorse. If only they could reverse time and treat each other better, love each other more.
I've seen old men who gently stroke the hair of their sick wife. I have seen old women who put their head on the chest on their sick husband. Not talking. Just staring. Just treasuring the last moments of thier company.
This is the environment that I work in. Not entirely it, but this is the valuable and emotional bit of it.
ICU has not just taught me clinical knowledge; it has put life-and-death right in front of my eyes. It's taught me to thank God for life, for health, for parents, for my fiance, for my loved ones.
So ICU still for me? Absolutely yes.
Friday, May 15, 2009
random
www.siewwai.zenfolio.com - Pauline's Graduation
After a series of events and long hour shifts, I finally sat down, dug up the old files, and started organising the long overdue photos that I promised I would process.
And again, I found my passion again...Oh...after all it has never really left me ....
After a series of events and long hour shifts, I finally sat down, dug up the old files, and started organising the long overdue photos that I promised I would process.
And again, I found my passion again...Oh...after all it has never really left me ....
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