“This Is What My Country Needs Now”
Humans of Medicine #13
A Covid-19 tribute to our heroes on the front lines.
“I was working at the Critical Care ward of a private hospital before the Movement Control Order.
As much as I love my job as a nurse, the gruelling hours, together with the many tasks of monitoring a patient’s health, took a toll on my mental well-being. I was admitted to the hospital for hypertension and palpitations due to the inevitable stress. I didn’t let my parents visit me; I haven’t seen them since my admission. As long as this goes on, I won’t be able to go home.
Immediately after discharge, I was transferred to work in the Emergency Unit. With the sudden influx of patients, they needed more people. My shift hours increased from eight hours per shift to twelve hours, with no extra overtime pay. I am dressed in Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) every day, drenched in sweat despite working in air-conditioned rooms. More importantly, I have to catch up with this new routine right after recovery because within a week, I will be working unsupervised, but I’m not complaining. This is what my country needs now.
I remember a patient coming in with viral fever earlier this year. We didn’t think a Covid-19 patient would be in our midst, and when his fever didn’t subside, he tested positive. Another patient, a supposed man of means, lied about his travel history, unnecessarily subjecting many of our staff without PPE to the virus. With exposed staff being quarantined, our manpower reduced, increasing our workload. Because of patients who lie about their history like him, we’ve become afraid. We are dressed in full PPE all the time, even in general wards where there aren’t supposed to be Covid-19 patients. Simple tasks, like bringing those in critical care to the bathroom or performing chest X-rays, became an arduous chore, especially when you’re dressed in full PPE. You become a walking sauna.
As much as we’re trying our best on our end, it makes my blood boil seeing visitors stealing masks and hand sanitisers from the hospital. We noticed people were swiping masks from the drawers, forcing us to hide them. Some even brought bottles to fill it up with our hand sanitizer liquid. Do they not realise that we need them more than they do? All these stealing and lying is making us feel that our efforts are unappreciated.
Our hospitals are mostly full, and the pressure is immense. We cannot transfer patients to public hospitals such as Hospital Sungai Buloh and Hospital Kuala Lumpur because they are overloaded as well. If such a scenario continues, I cannot imagine how bad our days are to come. I can only hope that everything reverts to normal, that I can finally take a breather, and above all, go home and see my parents.”
Disclaimer: Subject of the interview has chosen to remain anonymous. The editorial wishes to thank Dr Darien Liew (photographer) and Ms Helen Wong (model) for the picture contribution.
About the Author
Jen Sze is a 2nd year medical student from Monash University Malaysia. She's a proud Penangite with a penchant for expressing her innermost thoughts and feelings through poetry.
