Bustin' Ours... To Save Yours...

The above theme sits on top of our Emergency Department webpage, and everyone knows the missing word is 'ass'. (not the donkey)

The child in me bursts out laughing whenever I see that statement. There is some truth in that, though. Working in the Emergency Department has always been, to me, medicine defined. I mean, that's why people become doctors, right? To save lives.

The Emergency Department is the first port-of-call to any patients in a hospital. Patients are brought in to the hospital via ED, at all levels of dying, from the very much alive with minimal complaints to the very much dead, who come in DOA (dead on arrival).

ED is fun for three reasons:

1) You get to think. Sometimes when you get stuck with a hospital ward job, you feel more like a glorified secretary, just mindlessly writing down whatever someone else has to say. Not much thinking on your part, usually, because the thinking's done for you.

In the Emergency department, however, every patient you pick up is a new case to be considered in the context of their past history and also the events leading them to your hospital doors. They say that the world renowned Sherlock Holmes was actually based on a friend of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's, who was a very observant doctor.

2) You get to do. I have done sutures, plasters, cannulas, lumbar punctures, ring blocks, reductions, arterial stabs and I'm getting to see so many more things as well. I'm still not doing anything near as much as the doctors on House M.D., though. (because they're not real doctors, you see. They're actors. Who are earning more in an episode than I will in a lifetime.)

3) You get to interact. Sometimes you are assigned to the fast track area, which is like a GP's office, almost, and it really is fun talking to the patients and sorting out the simple problems. No patient is more appreciative than the healthy ones who just need to be told that there is nothing wrong with them, it's a virus, just go home and get some rest.

Of course, it's can get quite busy and crazy in the ED, but there are times when I've been smiling at work and thinking 'You know, it's almost unfair that I'm enjoying work so much!'

That's us - bustin' ours, to save yours.


Thing No. 6: The Boy Goes To School (Darjah Dua)

Do you remember those yellow manila cards they gave out to you once a year? You had to paste your photo in the right hand corner, fill in your personal details, and then some random other things. One column I remember best comes with the heading:

Cita-cita (Ambition): 1. 2. 3.

For me it always read like this:

Cita-cita (Ambition): 1. Doktor (doctor) 2. Peguam (lawyer) 3.Jurutera (engineer) /Akauntan (accountant) depending on the career du jour.

[My friend LWK, upon realising that writing down your ambition in those columns weren't going to automatically transform you into having that career, once wrote down, for fun:

Cita-cita (Ambition): 1. Badut (clown)

Just for that moment, he got his wish. ]

If you are an Asian kid in a typical Asian family, your columns read the same too. Don't bluff, I know. All Asian parents have a degree in Brainwashing Your Child, B. Sc.

Now, truth be told, I didn't want to be any of those professions. I had very little idea about doctors, much less about lawyers and almost nothing at all about what an engineer did. (They dealt with engines, right?)

We had an English oral test once in Standard Two. The topic I had to discuss with the teacher was on 'My ambition'. Once again, I said I wanted to be a doctor. She said, 'Oh that's good. It's hard work being a doctor, though.'

At some point during the discussion, she asked 'And what about those poor people who cannot afford to see doctors?'

'I'll see them for free,' came my reply.