(today's song is once again, courtesy of Gregory Chan. thanks dude. i heart indie.)



in my very humble nursing opinion, i seriously think that i'm a Godsend to this hospital if i were ever admitted. two very simple reasons actually:

1) i'm very accommodating by nature (a very good mantra for bottoms, by the way)
2) i'll save this one for the end (another equally good mantra for bottoms, by the way)

but i'm not joking about the accommodating by nature bit. because i'm really an obliging fellow. say if the surgeon were to have left his 12 inch subway BLT sandwich in my stomach after a tonsillectomy (as to why a surgeon would cut open my stomach during a tonsil op is way beyond my nursing comprehension), my gregarious 'we're all working for the same organization after all' nature would immediately kick in and start reassuring the guilt-stricken surgeon: 'Don't worry lah, Dr. Bee Al Tee, good thing you left it in my stomach. and you know the wonderful thing about stomachs: they digest! just let the gastric juices and peristalsis do their job and before you know it, tomorrow's input-output chart will be having an entry stating 'BO X 1 large amount of soft brownish fecal matter with plenty of seeds (it's a honey oat and there were jalapeños in it).'

any person in the right mind would have called their insurance agents and their lawyers straightaway and a negligence suit would perhaps have followed. as for me? nothing much lah. just up my morphine dosage post-operatively. and the administrative could do that same 'upping' for my salary as well....

still, i guess i have seen one too many cases of the Nightingales-turned-Nightingheil types in my career so far. they can be the cream of the crop when they are working in the hospital. but when they are ADMITTED into the hospital.... ooooh boy. gone are the gentle voices that kindly remind you to take your medication after meals. these nursing staff behave worse than a temperamental little Hitler. they demand to see the consultant. they threaten letter of dissatisfactions if things are not done their way. they think they have the power for head to roll simply because they know some random big shot in 'the management level'. they scream. they shout. they kick up a ruckus. it is indeed a plague.

the first day i set eyes on one of these creeps, i swore i would never be one of them.

and i'm glad that i stuck to my guns because i'm not the type that's cut out for waiting. the same reason why if i realize that i can't sleep within fifteen minutes, i would rather get up play some Xbox, watch some porn, have a cigarette and THEN try to sleep again (the cycle repeats itself until i fall asleep or have to go to work or decide to pop a Diazepam 5). well, waiting was one of the things that i expected to do while at the staff clinic. my previous experience with the staff clinic was nearly a year back when i needed my flu vaccination. to cut the waiting time and shorten the whole story, it took me two hours to get a free influenza jab. and there were only four other patients in the staff clinic with me back then and they were all flu or naughty illnesses (one of them was prescribed acyclovir). i remember reading a 2005 issue of Cleo. thank goodness it was the Most Eligible Bachelor issue.

i decided to go via the staff clinic route this time because truth be told, nothing says 'I'm Really Sick!' like a hospital-issued MC. ok, this one's even better: nothing says 'I'm Really Down With A Bad Case of Tonsillitis!' like a ENT-Department-issued MC (ENT - Ear/Nose/Throat). i needed the ENT referral so that i could FINALLY, for the first time in my life, lop off my tonsils and perhaps consider a career in deep-throating. that, plus cut down on the frequency i have my tonsils inflammed and thus rendering me part of the non-communicable public. the staff at the staff clinic were very pleasant, most of them being women in their late 40s and 50s.

and assuming that it's either my smashin' camel-colored loafers or the fact that i'm an auntie-killer, i got my subsidized, on-the-spot referral to the ENT within forty-five minutes. 'Hoi ham-sum! (this sent shudders down my spine and protective instincts to cover my nipples)' the sister in-charge of the staff clinic shouted to me. 'I got your reflel oredi! 2pm. you go to the ENT clinic. okay? no need pay so much! subsidized some more okay!!!!' i was surprised because no. 1: was that a wink? and more importantly no. 2: it's not easy to get a subsidized referral at such short notice because which Singaporean doesn't want a bloody fifteen minutes with the doctor at a discounted rate? i was actually resigned to a fate of having to speak to a dowdy ol' consultant (or as my church mate, Norman, once told me: the kind of men who are in fellowships Fellowships) at $84.50 a session.

it was 12 noon and i had up till two hours to kill before my appointment time. so the next step in line was to show my sickly mug and put on my award-winning tonsillitis performance to show that i was deserving of my accumulated three days worth of MC so far. not very difficult when one ACTUALLY has tonsillitis. the sickening bit however, was having to explain to every single colleague i met along the ward corridor how i've been and why i've been on MC for that long when the last thing on my mind is making oral communication. fortunately, the ward was having a farewell party of sorts for one of the supervisors who was resigning from the hospital to leave for greener pastures where the koala bears roam and the Waltzing Matilda is sung. i made a quick announcement to the supervisors and staff who were there, all of them who could see that i looked like crap (i didn't style my hair that day for this purpose).

thank goodness for Pangkeng who happened to be there as well. he was the perfect exit cue from the awkward little farewell party. i gave him the international hand signal for 'I have tonsillitis and i need help in getting out of this lame farewell party... but not before i get a cup of iced lemon tea!'. it's very easy to do actually. all you need is your dominant hand, gather all your fingers together in a pointed bunch and indicate this signal to your close buddy who has a degree in deviant and foul language. straightaway he understood and without further ado, he whisked me out of the party room into the tea room, which was now filled with sofas, strong air-conditioning and at least ten nursing students preparing for the afternoon shift. thanks a lot brother. i fielded all their incessant questions and Pangkeng still got me my cup of iced lemon tea. so my heart melted at that. he also made a dour promise to accompany me for cigarettes if i ever got admitted into the hospital.

2pm came and I made the arduous trip went to the clinics for my ENT referral. i'm actually glad to say that it all went pretty smooth. armed with my NDS lite and a rapidly ascending fever, i wasn't sure if i should have taken my Ibuprofen just minutes away from my appointment. i've come to expect these fevers every four hourly. it's a bit like the movie Silent Hill: i can always feel it when The Darkness is nearing. the alarms in me start blaring. and that is when i ought to be found under the dark crevices of my bedsheets trying to keep warm rather than fight the fever with a couple of pills. i popped the Ibuprofen anyways.

cut the story short, i didn't say much throughout the fifteen minutes with the medical officer (she was the one who kindly agreed to see me via the staff clinic's recommendation). i was shivering and not really in the mood to elaborate about stuff. but these were the points that i could garner and agree with:
- take new antibiotics
- take a lot of ice-cream/slurpee
- avoid exercise and people
- settle the infection first and then we'll settle the operation in two weeks time
- there will be usually two weeks of MC after a tonsillectomy
- more ice-cream will follow after the tonsillectomy
- go and look for a consultant that you trust to do your op

i got a whole new arsenal of antibiotics, painkillers, some wonderful gargle, more ibuprofen, and i love this new addition: Difflam lozenges. these babies don't just soothe your throat, they fucking numb your tongue. they don't do shit to the tonsils, but hey, i'm not complaining about my tongue. and here's the killer bonus: i've got 5 days worth of hospital-approved MC! that means 5 more days of killing time at home, smoking minimally, eating minimally, finally being able to finish the third season of House and the second and third of OZ (yes Michael, i'm a slow watcher, can't say the same for the Cazzo films though). there were points during my fevers and chills that i actually considered quitting smoking. yeah, that's what life-threatening fevers do to you.

and here's the bit that i'm saving for the end - the second reason why i'm a real Godsend if i ever were admitted to this hospital (which i will prolly be). the subsidized consultation cost me $25. the medication set me back by about $44.60. all of which would have been heavily subsidized if i had the proper identification of my employment pass. all i had was a crumpled uniform in my locker, my name tag, and perhaps that superbug lodged in my tonsils.

i didn't have my employment pass with me.
chee bye.

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