Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Work

I'm working.

Yet, I don't feel like I'm working.

I feel as if I am medical student with many many responsibilities. The good thing is, I get paid.

Haha. However, it's kinda stressful to realize that now, whatever I do or decide, no matter how insignificant it appears to be, does affect my patients. 

Medicine is a unique a profession that involves a lot of sacrifice that other people may not be able to understand. Most of the time, you don't get to wait and see. Many things need to be attended to instantly or as soon as possible, depending of the level of severity, even if it means forgoing a meal or skipping a social function planned earlier.

Well, you'll be surprised how ungrateful certain patients can be.

In the first week of my career, I had two episodes of nervous breakdowns. I cried almost every night. I was physically drained due to the unbearably long tagging hours. And not to mention the culture shock that I, a small town boy, had to face in the city of Kuala Lumpur. 

Adjustment disorder? 

I was on the verge of falling into depression. But thanks God, I survived the most trying period. Never thought that I had that amount of determination and tenacity in me.

I'm fairly okay now, despite the terrible calls I've been having. 

I feel I've aged.

But, I don't feel like I'm working. I feel like I'm doing what I've been given the honour to do. With the limited ability to alter a disease process to a certain extent. Kinda fun. :)