Category: Blog

People has their own timeline

One of the post in instagram that I kept in my saved collection is a quote saying,

Dear girl who sees her friends getting engaged, pregnant, married, moving into her first home, posting pictures with her man, etc. and you feel like you’re doing something wrong, STOP. Their season isn’t your season. Comparison is the thief of joy

From instagram account @herincrediblemindset

While it’s such a sweet post but I have to admit that I fell victim to comparison.

Career wise, I’m pretty much a cookie cutter of a doctor could be. Got into medical school at 17, finished undergrad at 21, took my oath at 23. Done my government duties when I was 25 and got into residency in the same year. Expected to be a specialist at 30 years old. The normal timeline of a doctor in Indonesia.

Or as they say, the ideal timeline of a doctor.

I only got 4 months of experience in the ER and 4 months in a tertiary outpatient clinic, sometimes I wonder if I should’ve add more months and more experience rather than focusing getting into residency. Whilst getting stares by my peers saying that they want my timeline and would go far and beyond to get into residency right now.

I went on saying that I got a very decent pay in the previous hospital and now I am pretty much once again, a student without any financial freedom (Residents in Indonesia don’t get salary or payment for their work because it’s university-based, not hospital-based). I was happy as an ER doctor, while in residency… I guess I’m doing okay, but not as happy as I should be (I am sure my fellow residents know why and what I meant).

I know, I know. It really is a first world problem. But my happiness is my priority and it’s what I strive for in life. Just to be happy.

Even in the supposedly “right” timeline I sometimes questioned myself whether it was the right choice.

The grass is always greener than the other side I guess.

But let’s face it, while you got one aspect of your life put together, the other aspect probably either absent, falling into pieces, or simply haven’t come into mind yet.

Not to worry, people like to remind you over and over again what are you doing wrong in your life anyway.

How many of us are familiar with these questions?

When are you getting married?

How many kids are you planning for?

Why can’t you be like *insert someone’s name here*?

Some of us are lucky to be born with a diamond heart and a not giving an F attitude. While some of us are born with a heart as soft as cotton and a mind prone to overthinking.

Who the heck chose the “ideal” criteria to everything anyway? Who is the first person that decided that everything must fall into a category of good and bad, pretty and ugly, ideal and not ideal?

Getting into university at 18? Good, at 16 or 17? Even better. Changing majors at 23? Uhm…?

Married when you were in a relationship for two years? Right. Not getting married when you are already in your nth year? Why?

Or, my personal favorite. (Since I am the targeted person for this question):

Why aren’t you married yet? You are on your way to 30!!!

Why we, as an 20 year old something female, still figuring things out with life, still has this society expectation on our backs that 30 is the dreaded age. Even I could say that I am in my almost late 20s and I am still grasping and trying to figure out my life. Let alone trying to find someone I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Why do we try to mold ourselves into the supposed to be “right” timeline? I had a friend who married when she was 25 and had no intention to go to residency, when I got accepted into residency suddenly her parents told her that she should go to residency too. Now she told me she was confused what she should do, have another child or go to residency?

Okay, now that is very, very messed up. Why do she have to fulfill the expectation of someone else? See what is wrong here? No matter what you can’t win.

When your future (career wise) is pretty much laid out for you, you have to succeed in other aspect too. Vice versa.

I wish I could just become someone I said before, someone with a diamond heart and not giving an F attitude. But face it, I am not. I listen to what people said, and deep down inside I want every aspect of my life to be organized, precise, and put together.

And for that I am still learning, to be content of where I am. To focus on what I got going for me and not to obsess what is not there.

I am tired right now. I write just to feel better.

It worked anyway. I feel better now.

Happy new year everybody! May 2020 be a better year for all of us.

Today is my Dad’s birthday. Happy birthday Dad, I wish him a good health and happiness for every single thing he does.

My Dad always wanted me to become a Doctor. Growing up in a family of doctors, he spent his childhood running away from my late Grandpa because he didn’t want to get injected with medications. I guess that’s why he didn’t become a doctor himself (he didn’t say this but I suppose this is the real reason anyway).

This morning I suddenly remembered about this one particular patient and her mom. And I want to write a blog post about them today.

Let’s go back to March of 2016.

I was in my surgery rotation in a small-ish government hospital in Surabaya. In that hospital each of the HO (in Indonesia we call them DM (Dokter Muda) or KO-ASS) were required to do ER rotation for 2 weeks. Imagine. Spending 2 weeks in the ER. Most of my peers surgery rotation were in my university hospital which requires them to do ER rotation for 2 weeks also, but not continuously.

By day one it was going well, a bit of shock and adaptation but the ER team were very nice and welcoming, which ease the transition. But fatigue and overworked caught up on us and by the first week we were exhausted.

There was this one day, when the ER was packed, it was quite late into the night after a packed day. I remember seeing this one female patient clutching her stomach in pain and she was queueing for the triage with her husband and mother.

Concerned, I walked up to her despite the head nurse saying it’s okay, I should sit down and take a break, my friend said the same thing.

I asked her what’s wrong. Her mother snarkily replied.

“Who are you?” Probably referring to the scrubs I was wearing.

“I’m Debby, I’m the Surgery HO in the ER.”

“I want to see the doctor now! Why the only the HO?” her mother replied.

“This is the ER ma’am, you are currently waiting to be assessed in the triage, I could help your daughter by taking notes and main complaints and present it to the ER doctor, it would work out faster too.” (Give myself a pat on my back for not losing my cool)

She grumpily agreed and I took the patient’s history. I concluded she should go to the OB-GYN ER (the hospital have a separate ER for OB-GYN patients) because she was pregnant and of course it would be faster because she didn’t have to queue for the triage.

But her mother angrily replied why should they go to the OB-GYN ER and that I’m wasting her time asking these questions. So she angrily stormed off, leaving me dazed there.

I remember being very sad treated like that. I know I wasn’t a fully fledged doctor at that time but I was concerned and I worry about her daughter.

I told the head nurse and he assured me it’s not my fault and I wanted what’s the best for the patient, I told my friend and he said it’s okay. But wrecked with guilt I went out and sat down near the main road. Taking deep breaths and controlling myself so I wouldn’t cry.

Maybe it was the fatigue and I was tired. I question myself whether it’s the path I want to take. When you are genuinely concerned about the well-being of your patient but this is the response you get. They are telling you that you are not good enough. When you want to stay in your City with your family, people will tell you that you are selfish for not going to some remote place to serve.

I wanted to quit right then. I remember building the scenario in my mind, what would I say to my parents and how I would tell them to soften the blow. What would I do after I quit and walked away.

I didn’t tell my friend that day, because I could see he was tired too and it’s not fair that I burden him with this. I wanted to pick up my phone and call my friends but they were having their surgery rotation too. I went to sleep with a broken heart and broken spirit.

The next day was packed as usual. Being in one of the busiest hospital in Surabaya, there would almost be no room to sit down and breathe. Our breaks were the morning reports, time to eat and showers.

I remember one of the ER Doctors told us, a female patient, 19 years old, having stomach pain and fever. Probable appendicitis. He asked us to check on her and take some history.

Because it’s a female patient, I went in and asked her some questions. She was very friendly and she was still smiling when she saw me even though she was in pain.

She came with her mother, and her mother tapped me and called me “sus” which is what some people call the nurses in Indonesian. In my university hospital the nurses didn’t really like the nickname because it reminded them of a babysitter or nanny. Nothing against babysitters or nannies but they definitely didn’t want to be mistreated. So they always tell us to call them “mbak” which translated into “miss”.

I said to her “I’m sorry, I’m not a nanny. You can call me ‘miss’.”

My friend overheard this and he said “She’s an HO, not a doctor yet but she will be. Please don’t call her ‘sus’ you can call her ‘miss’ but not ‘sus’,” as he explained to the patient’s mother.

“Oh, I’m very sorry!” as she apologized to me. I said it’s okay. But I was still in a horrible mood after the previous day, so I didn’t really smile to her that much.

I follow up her daughter throughout the time they were in the ER. Nothing special just what I did everyday with every patient.

The result was appendicitis and she needed to be referred because the hospital operating rooms were full.

When they were about to leave the hospital, I was focused on other patients follow up. My friend called me and he said the mother wanted to see me.

I obliged and asked her what’s wrong.

She held my hands and she looked me into my eyes and she said these exact words, “Thank you doc, you have been very caring to my daughter, you are very kind and gentle. You are a great doctor. I’m sorry that I offended you, I know you are tired and there is a long way to go for you. But don’t give up, you will be a great doctor. Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. I wish you all the best in life.”

I was shocked as I heard those words from her mouth. I stuttered a thank you for her and her daughter. I am sorry too if I was snarky. She held my hands and she said it’s okay.

She and her daughter left in the ambulance to be referred.

I left the ER to the same hiding spot yesterday and I just cried there. Feeling like a horrible person for ever giving up on this. I felt like God just sent someone to answer my doubts and worries.

Thank you for your kind words. Every single word made me feel so appreciated. If I hadn’t meet you and your daughter that day I would not be here today. On my last burn out I remembered you. It kept me going, it kept me from giving up on my dreams.

I am sorry I didn’t give you my contact and we didn’t stay in touch. But I’m very grateful for you, I pray that you are well today, I pray that your daughter finish her university, I wish you all the best in life, may you always be loved by every one around you.

Thank you.

Always be kind to every one you meet. Thank you for teaching me that.

One more week.

One more week and I’ll be in a new hospital. I won’t see the people I see for the past 6 years. I will be in a new city. I’ll be living in a new place. I won’t be seeing my family everyday.

That scares me. As much as I don’t like to admit it. It does. When I think that by next week a lot will be different, I can’t help to think that maybe I took granted my clinical years and the people in it.

At least I’ll only be one hour away from Surabaya.

At least I can go home once a week (even more).

The self comforting words self automatically formed inside my head every time I am counting down the days.

I’ll miss my friends. The best people I met and been friends with for the past 6 years. I’ll miss the workflow between me and the people I know. It’s comforting to know that because of the advances of technology I can always contact them, it’s also nice to know the friends that are furthest away from Surabaya will only take 3 hours drive.

The most bitter goodbyes make the best hello agains. The sweetest hellos make the worst goodbyes. That just the way it goes.