have you ever gone back to work after a really long break, only to realize that the workplace has moved on from planet A to planet (insert letter that comes after Z)? well, i don't know about you. but if memory serves me right, the last time i disappeared for ten days of annual leave, things weren't so different when i returned. the patients still complained of the same issues, the relatives were still as irritating as flies, the colleagues who produced shitty work still gave plenty of crap and well, pretty much everything remained as same as same could be.

it seems different though this time. the pungent smell of change was in the air the moment i stepped into the staff toilet. perhaps it's the nauseating smell of used sanitary pads in the dustbins or the pungent smell of pee from colleagues who had trouble with the aiming, but things indeed seemed different. take for example, my locker. i had forgotten to bring home my uniform and a pair of socks since the last time i worked. that was two weeks ago and you know how socks are productively fermenting themselves when left alone in lockers. let's just say that they were very far from being a vintage year.

for nearly two weeks, i was stuck at home, mainly sleeping, wallowing under the blankets with fever as a bed-partner, loading up on antibiotics, and generally trying to be as productive as a toilet bowl in the middle of the Sahara. i realized that it was with much difficulty that i had to get the engine up and running again. for one, it was hell having to kick my ass up at five am for work when i have been waking up at eight for the past fortnight. i realized that i haven't written much by hand during the entire fortnight as well, so my signatures and initials at work were nothing more than untidy scrawls that would indeed make a kindergarten teacher proud.

but i wasn't worried as much about myself coping with changes. after all, the resilient Singaporean spirit is so used to the fast-paced and ever-changing face of Singapore. we have survived everything from SARS to a teenager with a SAR 21 in public. we have experienced the brunt of bubble-tea fads, GST hikes, CPF contributions and the ever-increasing value (as in the price, not value-for-money 'value') of McDonald's Extra Value Meals. no. i was more worried about the colleagues and how they would have felt about their smart-ass male colleague who took off from work with a two week medical leave endorsed by the hospital. i tried my best to PR with them whenever i went back to the hospital to see the ENT specialist. i showed them how sick i was by not styling my hair and talking as if my mouth was obstructed by a certain long and hard foreign body (i'm pretty apt at doing this). so hopefully, i got the point across that i was truly sick and not trying to shortchange them in terms of work.

but oh me of little faith. i truly went back to work yesterday expecting a hoard of colleagues armed with torches, pitchforks, tuning forks, forked tongues, salad forks, dessert forks and perhaps a set of carving knives, all ready to burn me and torture at the stake. i was seriously anticipating getting forked all over by them for having taken two weeks of MC. i'm thinking that it's partly due to working in the Asian context, where medical leave is a privilege rather than an entitlement. take the hospital for example, one's MC rate is a major decisive factor when it comes to judging productivity. this in turn affects one's chances at being awarded scholarships, bursaries, extension of contracts, requests for department changes, etc. which kinda sucks if one produces excellent work but tends to fall sick easily. not helping is the fact that one is working in the hospital, the common habitat for superbugs. i actually know of considerate colleagues who are truly ill and are contemplating taking medical leave the following day. but they can't assuage the guilt that comes with taking an MC until they've checked the next day's rostering. 'I don't want to be a bastard and leave everyone else to cover for me when i'm gone,' they would say. tsk, tsk. Asians - such a considerate bunch of people.

thus it was to my surprise, that the closest thing that resembled someone brandishing a sharp fork was a colleagues with a pethidine-filled syringe. and as much as i would have welcomed it, the syringe wasn't even meant for me. the first thing everyone asked me after the casual greeting was whether i have been for a tonsillectomy. i had anticipated and prepared for moments like these by manually penning out what i would reply to the colleagues when i returned to work. i even tried to add in a witty line or two for PR purposes:

'Oh i didn't get to go for the tonsillectomy as the ENT specialist said that i should clear out the infection before go for an operation. otherwise when they cut out the pus-laden tonsil, everything would burst out like a really bad pimple and i would choke on my own fluids in the operating theater and die. and the hospital doesn't want to get sued for anything like that. open bracket remember to chuckle along with colleague at this point of time close bracket.'

of course i didn't verbalize out the bit about chuckling along with the colleagues, but i spent half the time at work desperately trying to make up for the last two weeks. i bought lunch and drinks for the colleagues. i chipped in in terms of work whenever i could. i went for extra smokes with my usual clique. i tried buying their hearts with cigarettes. i ended up having spent a pretty exhausting day. the more i thought about it though, the more i realized that it's pretty silly doing all this post-illness follow-up. why should i feel guilty taking medical leave when i really need it and deserve it? i'm pinning the blame on the whole 'Asian context' thing. i mean, even the father keeps reminding me to 'go and PR with your colleagues and please buy some food for them'.

on a more unfortunate side, i have completely used up this year's worth of medical leave. so that leaves no more room for being sick or completely being a bastard by claiming an MC for 'tension headaches related to work stress' (i have actually used that before and it's officially my patented excuse in the ward now). on the more fortunate side though, i can still be a complete bastard by joining the ranks of angry, stressed-out colleagues armed with the pitch forks and tuning forks.

though i won't be holding on to forks of any sort. i'm thinking of those fermented socks.

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