A Matter of Opinion

“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails” ~ William Arthur Ward

Perhaps it just won't do to listen to people's opinions, but some would be quick to deny that. After all, working with people means there is no escape from people, yes? Even if we can stop people from talking (no small feat, surely!), no way we can change their opinions so easily. And, as most books would tell you, more often than not we are dealing with people as they are emotional creatures, rather than logical -  despite what my field of work might say on the matter.

But then again - are opinions actually manifestations of people judging people? I'm starting to think that they are the same...

Specialists and MOs remarked that I seemed depressed lately, making me more even more flustered than usual. While I appreciate(?) the concern(?), I'd rather not have it pointed out. It's my natural state of things, although I'm trying to do something about it. As one kind patient told me - in the end, all the stress accumulated at work won't actually be worth it if other aspects in one's life - health, social links, etc - become compromised in the process.

Fellow HOs teased that I was (am?) optimistic, and expressed their mock horror that my optimism is slowly being eroded. My response? I've never been an optimist, because my heart has been broken so many times.

...I'll just have to work hard, yes? As long as I know I'm doing what's right, it should be okay even if the world is against me, because God Knows better anyway...and what is this world but a sojourn, a minefield of trials and tribulations?

...This entry probably reflects my idealistic musings, but whatever. Having any conviction is just too much work these days.

Current Music: Love Love - Take That

Intermission #32

I can't take it anymore.

There has to be a limit to what kind of stupidity that the superiors are putting us into. If you want things to be done, how's about stop introducing stupid rules that restrict us in our job?

The breaking point is so near, it's like something is breaking in my chest, and I'm suffocating. Overwhelmed by all this rubbish that I'm in - against my own will, and yet still too powerless to do anything about this.

I'm starting to forget what happiness feels like. One thing for sure - even during my convocation I felt numb, apathetic.

Current Music: Awaken - Maher Zain

H.O., oh H.O. ...

1. …or, other things that are part of the job description of a house officer that you were never really told about before you jumped headfirst into it:
- glorified secretary
- scapegoat
- sacrificial lamb
- punching bag
- puppet
- labourer
- pinata

Where is the glory, you ask? I'm still searching for the light, but it seems to be getting dimmer by the moment...

2. At certain times, it feels like even my body is against me.

That feeling of uselessness leaves an empty vortex, and it sucks whatever iota of hope that tried to stubbornly shine through. The seething anger towards others shakes every inch of my being. That anger towards self claws violently at something in my chest - My heart? My conscience? My soul - while all the stress gnaws at my stomach.

And somehow it's like the body is trying to purge me of all this toxic things by inducing nausea. There is the danger of rejecting food, and even sweet chocolate tastes bitter in my mouth.

My thoughts roam too far and too near for comfort. Colourful words that would make even sailors blush, and dark, dangerous imagination run wild without restraint. My dreams are bleak, and I wake up feeling more drained.

I'm afraid of going to sleep. There is no logic, no self-control to keep things in check, and I'm afraid if the nightmares will swallow me whole...and I never wake up.

Detrimental

As I go on in this working life, it's inevitable that I get exposed to - and am being forced to reckon with - various human traits that simply defies any simple classification. Mind you, not only from the patients and their relatives, but also from my peers and my superiors (whom I still can't call "Boss"...tsk tsk much?).

One thing that I always try to avoid is talking bad about people. It's not something I like to be done to me, but I suppose nobody can really stop people from talking, yeah? I try to avoid any conflict, and even try to avoid being roped into being a spectator for one. So imagine when someone commented about another's bad attitude/behaviour/etc to me? I just sighed and forced an understanding smile, trying to push out the thought if anyone actually said the same thing about me...and just went ahead with my work.

...Which makes me wonder why people accuse _me_ of being overly negative. Or does the fault lie with me for making myself vulnerable to unfair accusations from people? With all due respect, though, I believe I still have the right to let out some steam whenever I reach the limit. I guess that's why people complain after all? So I too should be able to complain when I absolutely feel like it...

And that pacifist voice in me? The voice is getting slower and slower with each passing day, as my patience grows thinner and my temper fuelling up.

It's ugly. It's ironic, how this supposedly noble profession is very much tainted. It's not all sparkles and glory. I guess whenever people are involved, the equation will always turn out to be more complicated to be understood, to be solved.

When I opt for silence - most of the time probably out of uncertainty on how to response rather than "I shall not dignify your remarks/jokes with an answer" - people say I'm in one of my mood swings. Excuse my saying this, but...what the hell?!

Isn't it ironic if it turns out that my profession of saving lives will be the exact thing that turned out to be, God Forbid, the death of me? I mean, all the stress and negative energy that I've accumulated (ever since med school itself?) must be putting a strain on my body and my general health...

Current Music: Hold Me - Savage Garden