My bones maybe tired..

Pictures have nothing to do with my ramblings. Both flowers can be found at Mr Gig's sekankang kera garden.

Why do I specialise in what I do? In my line of work, there are at least 4-5 fields that one can specialise into. I went through the process of elimination. For e.g. I won’t do this because I may need to look at corpses, I won’t do that because in general adults have poorer hygiene than children (I didn’t think I could stomach dirty, yucky orifices) hence it left me with only one option i.e. working with children. I am not maternal, and neither am I good with kids being the youngest child in my family and having much older cousins. 5 years ago, I became a specialist in what I do…and once you’re one, your job interests get even narrower. If my one and only other colleague in the same line as me prefer to deal with aesthetics, I am more drawn to the special clients.

Even though my mum and I can only sometimes get along nowadays, I have only her to thank for the choices I’ve made then. My mum has always been picking up stray kittens from the roadside. She also cuts out newspapers where there are articles about underprivileged people asking for donations and when she gets her pay (or pension now), she’d cycle (because she can’t drive) to the nearest post office to send money order to these people. She’s always telling me about siapa jemaah masjid dia yg baru mati suami or lari, anak ada berderet2 , and kesian them, kita kena tolong. From the time I was little, I’ve watched her charitable gestures to animals, relatives and strangers…I guess it must have rubbed off on me.

I didn’t get into this through first choice but I get sucked into doing this (in a nice way). Thursday afternoon is the time when I see these special clients of mine. When I first started 4 years ago, I was only seeing 5 the most in one afternoon. Then the numbers began to pick up to the point that now the waiting list for first consultation is about 4 months. There are not many people like me in Msia. There are perhaps only about 20 of us…and minus the few that are not into seeing these special people.

Somedays I feel frustrated and dejected. Why? Because these clients need special support. In dealing with them, I need to use the OT. I am only given 2-3 sessions per month, hence the waiting list for this has reached 12-18 months. Then once the procedures have been carried out, they need regular monitoring, which can be done by private practitioners but due to ignorance and inadequate continuing education, most clients are refused point blank. So they have to come back to me. I have an assistant now and although it greatly helps, I still try to tend to each and everyone of them personally because if it was me, yes I would very much like to be seen by the specialist himself once in a while and not just the half-baked assistant. I worry that my standard has slipped because I have to compromise a lot. At the end of the day, there’s only one me.

I am considering of increasing the session I see these kanak-kanak riang to cope with the present demand. But it would mean sacrificing the time I have catching up with the paperwork, carrying out research and writing scientific papers which are the basis of getting promoted. There’s no consideration given to how popular one is among the kanak-kanak riang..haha.

I have voiced out about my frustrations…but they have never been about the children. Yes, at the end of the session, I am always tired but I like to think what I’m doing is something special. Boleh ke nak puji diri sendiri? Not everyone get the chance to be near them. They have changed me. In the past, I have been guilty of staring at these special people but these days I don’t even bat an eyelid. I have seen some of them from the time they were babies and now dah ada yg masuk preschool, kindergarten or primary school. Some of them have outgrown the chair. One boy had a tumour growing in his brain. I first saw him when he was 4. He could barely walk, his hair had fallen out and his skin was ‘burnt’ from all the radiotherapy he had to have. I saw him recently…he could walk and he’s started his schooling. Once I was just entering the hospital lobby to go for that afternoon session and one little boy ran towards me to salam. I was sure he was one of my clients but I couldn’t remember who or what he had until the mum came over to greet me. He was only 5, small in stature and very pale. He had aplastic anaemia, awaiting bone marrow transplantation. I haven’t seen him for nearly a year, I’m not sure what became of him.

Some kids came from different states. There was a boy from felda in Pahang. His dad and him would ride the motorbike from their house to tepi jalan. Then take the bus to the nearest town and another one to Puduraya and finally to the hospital. They leave home at 5am for a 10 o’clock appointment. And they go back on the same day because they don’t have the money to pay for a room and his dad can’t afford not to miss the kebun for more than one day.

One 4 year old girl suffering from brittle bone disease was so tiny that I thought she was a 2 year old toddler. All she could do was lie in bed. Parents even afraid to prop her up or cuddle her for fear of fracturing her bones. She had to come in once every few months to receive some medication. The dad was laid off work because selalu sangat cuti jaga anak, Mum was a housewife and they had few other children. One 27 day old baby had a growth in the mouth and was flown over all the way from Sabah with his mum. She was only 18 and not educated. She had to leave another son who was 3 back in Sabah with her aunt. The worse thing was, the kid’s father ran off with another woman while the baby was in hospital and the aunt who was looking after the brother started abusing the boy. Poor mum saddled with a sick child, no money, no sedara mara in semenanjung….the kind prof who was looking after the baby gave the mum some money for airfare to go and pick his other son bawak ke sini and told her to look for some work here. It always amazes me that in time of desperation, there’ll be some kind souls out there offering help. The family spent so much time in the ward that one kind makcik who was visiting someone sort of ‘adopted’ the family.

I think I can go on and on telling you about these wonderful and sometimes sad stories. I don’t have to be a part of this, the establishment doesn’t care if I don’t because what is more important is that I do not neglect my work at the main workplace. But how can one not want to be a part of this? Although my contribution is really minute, barely enough, I would like to think that I do make a difference in making their lives a little bit more bearable, improving their quality of lives.

I complain all the time about having to drive there, having to beat the lunchtime traffic. Bila balik rumah, badan penat, kaki sakit. But I am luckier than most of them: I look normal, my bones don’t break easily, I don’t have to go for monthly blood transfusion, I don’t need to jab myself with insulin or sleep every night with needle poking out of me strapped to a machine, I don’t need anyone to feed or clean me or not being able to tell people of my wants because my sound mind is trapped in a lifeless body. At the end of the day, if I close my eyes for the very last time, I could perhaps tell our maker, I haven’t been too good but despite all my complaints please take my Thursday afternoons into account.