the mother of my mother,
the mother of the mother of the mother to my children,
my mother,
the mother to the mother to my children
the mother to my children
and all Mothers all around the world and galaxy...Happy Mothers' Day!!!
Spring season begins today on Chinese calendar, we call it 立春 or Li Chun, meaning the beginning of spring. On this day, people usually go outdoors, make paper-cuttings to decorate windows, and eat spring egg rolls filled with fresh vegetables inside, it’s called 咬春, meaning bite spring.source: http://my.opera.com/Aprilsnow/blog/the-first-day-of-spring
The real importance of this day resides on its agricultural implication – soon farmers will start to plow the soil preparing to seed. China has a long and well-developed agricultural history, people’s lives are very much involved with agriculture, and spring is considered a season for plantation (春耕) while summer is called growing season (夏长), autumn harvest time (秋收) and winter for reservation (冬藏).
Spring is so special, it always reminds us of life, renew and hope. So we celebrate it on its first day.
一年之计在于春。“春节”的本义并非岁首，古代的春节为立春之节，立春是一年中第一个节气，标志着春天的开始。在唐代，立春这天是要给假一天的。古代有“四立”，即立春、立夏、立秋、立冬，指春、夏、秋、冬四季开始，其农业意义为“春种、夏长、秋收、冬藏”。
立春时节有游春、剪彩花、宴饮等习俗。另外，立春这天还要举行迎春的祭祀活动，天子率臣僚在东郊迎春。在清代，“立春日为春朝，士庶交相庆贺，谓之‘拜春'。” 民间有鞭打春牛、送小春牛、贴宜春贴、造“探春茧”（一种面食）、“咬春”、“演春”等习俗。
所 谓“咬春”，就是在立春这一天吃一些春天的新鲜蔬菜，既为防病，又有迎接新春的意味。有记载道：“立春日，食芦菔、春饼、生菜，号春 盘”， 还有：唐人于“立春日作春饼，以春蒿、黄韭、蓼芽包之”；到了南宋，宫廷中的春盘，除“春饼”外，还有“翠缕红丝、金鸡玉燕，备极精 巧，每盘值万钱”。杜甫的《立春》诗写道：“春日春盘细生菜，忽忆两京梅发时。”苏东坡的《送范德孺》诗写道：“渐觉东风料峭寒，青蒿黄韭试春盘。”都提 到“春盘”，指的就是立春这天吃的新鲜蔬菜。
真可谓立春日，树梢草木返青吐绿；水塘冰融，波光粼粼；土牛儿立春迎春，人扮神，鞭土牛，劝农耕，又称为“打春”，象征春耕开始。
(中文部分为摘抄)
Another thing that is interesting is if direct translate the word “Li Chun” 立春, “Li” 立 means STAND. “Chun” 春 has a lots of meaning and one of it is represent egg. So, “Li Chun” 立春 means “Stand Egg”.According to the saying, the egg should not be refrigerated and must use raw egg. I have tried to make a few eggs stand and the eggs continue to stand on till the next day. I am not sure whether the saying is correct as I never tried it on any other days. So I am not sure whether the egg will stand on any other days but it is indeed a good experience and knowledge. You could use this to impress or surprise your kids, family or friends in the next Chinese New Year. Perhaps you could make the egg stand together with your family members as a bonding activity. This is another fun activity during the Chinese New Yearsource: http://swanthamsw.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-li-chun-relates-to-egg-standing.htmlNo physical influence of other celestial bodies on the egg can affect its balance to the extent required by the folk belief. Gravitational and electromagnetic forces, in particular, are considerably weaker and steadier than the disturbances created by the person's breathing and heartbeat.
In 1947, Japanese physicist Ukichiro Nakaya verified experimentally that eggs in fact can be balanced with ease at any time of the year. He noticed that the shell of an egg usually has many small bumps and dimples, so that, by turning the egg in different directions, it can be made to touch a flat surface on three points at once, in many ways. It is not hard to find an orientation such that the triangle spanned by the three contact points lies right under the egg's center of mass, which is the condition for balancing any object.[2] Of course, balancing an egg on a rough surface is easy too, for the same reason.
Martin Gardner also observed that "if you are convinced that an egg will balance more easily on a certain day you will try a little harder, be more patient, and use steadier hands. If you believe that eggs won't balance on other days, this belief is transmitted subconsciously to your hands", and compares the process to the "Ouija-board phenomenon".[1]
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egg_of_Li_Chun
Awesome effort!!!
Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling some five balls in air. They are Work, Family, Health, Friends and Spirit and you're keeping all of these in the air.I was again and again and again enlightened by this short speech.
You will soon understand that Work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. But the other four Balls - Family, Health, Friends and Spirit - are made of glass. If you drop one of these; they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged or even shattered. They will never be the same. You must understand that and strive for it.
Work efficiently during office hours and leave on time. Give the required time to your family, friends and have proper rest.
Value has a value only if its value is valued
there's a fine line between dedication and obsession.my junior colleague, T21 (who is stalking this blog) praised me for having the balls to write about one of our dedicated superior.
dedication is when you're crazy in your passion,
obsession is when you're driving everyone crazy in your passion.
Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior By AMY CHUA
A lot of people wonder how Chinese parents raise such stereotypically successful kids. They wonder what these parents do to produce so many math whizzes and music prodigies, what it's like inside the family, and whether they could do it too. Well, I can tell them, because I've done it. Here are some things my daughters, Sophia and Louisa, were never allowed to do:
Amy Chua with her daughters, Louisa and Sophia, at their home in New Haven, Conn.• attend a sleepover
• have a playdate
• be in a school play
• complain about not being in a school play
• watch TV or play computer games
• choose their own extracurricular activities
• get any grade less than an A
• not be the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama
• play any instrument other than the piano or violin
• not play the piano or violin.
I'm using the term "Chinese mother" loosely. I know some Korean, Indian, Jamaican, Irish and Ghanaian parents who qualify too. Conversely, I know some mothers of Chinese heritage, almost always born in the West, who are not Chinese mothers, by choice or otherwise. I'm also using the term "Western parents" loosely. Western parents come in all varieties.
All the same, even when Western parents think they're being strict, they usually don't come close to being Chinese mothers. For example, my Western friends who consider themselves strict make their children practice their instruments 30 minutes every day. An hour at most. For a Chinese mother, the first hour is the easy part. It's hours two and three that get tough.
Despite our squeamishness about cultural stereotypes, there are tons of studies out there showing marked and quantifiable differences between Chinese and Westerners when it comes to parenting. In one study of 50 Western American mothers and 48 Chinese immigrant mothers, almost 70% of the Western mothers said either that "stressing academic success is not good for children" or that "parents need to foster the idea that learning is fun." By contrast, roughly 0% of the Chinese mothers felt the same way. Instead, the vast majority of the Chinese mothers said that they believe their children can be "the best" students, that "academic achievement reflects successful parenting," and that if children did not excel at school then there was "a problem" and parents "were not doing their job." Other studies indicate that compared to Western parents, Chinese parents spend approximately 10 times as long every day drilling academic activities with their children. By contrast, Western kids are more likely to participate in sports teams.
What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you're good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences. This often requires fortitude on the part of the parents because the child will resist; things are always hardest at the beginning, which is where Western parents tend to give up. But if done properly, the Chinese strategy produces a virtuous circle. Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence; rote repetition is underrated in America. Once a child starts to excel at something—whether it's math, piano, pitching or ballet—he or she gets praise, admiration and satisfaction. This builds confidence and makes the once not-fun activity fun. This in turn makes it easier for the parent to get the child to work even more.
Chinese parents can get away with things that Western parents can't. Once when I was young—maybe more than once—when I was extremely disrespectful to my mother, my father angrily called me "garbage" in our native Hokkien dialect. It worked really well. I felt terrible and deeply ashamed of what I had done. But it didn't damage my self-esteem or anything like that. I knew exactly how highly he thought of me. I didn't actually think I was worthless or feel like a piece of garbage.
From Ms. Chua's album: 'Mean me with Lulu in hotel room... with score taped to TV!'
As an adult, I once did the same thing to Sophia, calling her garbage in English when she acted extremely disrespectfully toward me. When I mentioned that I had done this at a dinner party, I was immediately ostracized. One guest named Marcy got so upset she broke down in tears and had to leave early. My friend Susan, the host, tried to rehabilitate me with the remaining guests.
The fact is that Chinese parents can do things that would seem unimaginable—even legally actionable—to Westerners. Chinese mothers can say to their daughters, "Hey fatty—lose some weight." By contrast, Western parents have to tiptoe around the issue, talking in terms of "health" and never ever mentioning the f-word, and their kids still end up in therapy for eating disorders and negative self-image. (I also once heard a Western father toast his adult daughter by calling her "beautiful and incredibly competent." She later told me that made her feel like garbage.)
Chinese parents can order their kids to get straight As. Western parents can only ask their kids to try their best. Chinese parents can say, "You're lazy. All your classmates are getting ahead of you." By contrast, Western parents have to struggle with their own conflicted feelings about achievement, and try to persuade themselves that they're not disappointed about how their kids turned out.
I've thought long and hard about how Chinese parents can get away with what they do. I think there are three big differences between the Chinese and Western parental mind-sets.
First, I've noticed that Western parents are extremely anxious about their children's self-esteem. They worry about how their children will feel if they fail at something, and they constantly try to reassure their children about how good they are notwithstanding a mediocre performance on a test or at a recital. In other words, Western parents are concerned about their children's psyches. Chinese parents aren't. They assume strength, not fragility, and as a result they behave very differently.
For example, if a child comes home with an A-minus on a test, a Western parent will most likely praise the child. The Chinese mother will gasp in horror and ask what went wrong. If the child comes home with a B on the test, some Western parents will still praise the child. Other Western parents will sit their child down and express disapproval, but they will be careful not to make their child feel inadequate or insecure, and they will not call their child "stupid," "worthless" or "a disgrace." Privately, the Western parents may worry that their child does not test well or have aptitude in the subject or that there is something wrong with the curriculum and possibly the whole school. If the child's grades do not improve, they may eventually schedule a meeting with the school principal to challenge the way the subject is being taught or to call into question the teacher's credentials.
If a Chinese child gets a B—which would never happen—there would first be a screaming, hair-tearing explosion. The devastated Chinese mother would then get dozens, maybe hundreds of practice tests and work through them with her child for as long as it takes to get the grade up to an A.
Chinese parents demand perfect grades because they believe that their child can get them. If their child doesn't get them, the Chinese parent assumes it's because the child didn't work hard enough. That's why the solution to substandard performance is always to excoriate, punish and shame the child. The Chinese parent believes that their child will be strong enough to take the shaming and to improve from it. (And when Chinese kids do excel, there is plenty of ego-inflating parental praise lavished in the privacy of the home.)
Sophia playing at Carnegie Hall in 2007.Second, Chinese parents believe that their kids owe them everything. The reason for this is a little unclear, but it's probably a combination of Confucian filial piety and the fact that the parents have sacrificed and done so much for their children. (And it's true that Chinese mothers get in the trenches, putting in long grueling hours personally tutoring, training, interrogating and spying on their kids.) Anyway, the understanding is that Chinese children must spend their lives repaying their parents by obeying them and making them proud.
By contrast, I don't think most Westerners have the same view of children being permanently indebted to their parents. My husband, Jed, actually has the opposite view. "Children don't choose their parents," he once said to me. "They don't even choose to be born. It's parents who foist life on their kids, so it's the parents' responsibility to provide for them. Kids don't owe their parents anything. Their duty will be to their own kids." This strikes me as a terrible deal for the Western parent.
Third, Chinese parents believe that they know what is best for their children and therefore override all of their children's own desires and preferences. That's why Chinese daughters can't have boyfriends in high school and why Chinese kids can't go to sleepaway camp. It's also why no Chinese kid would ever dare say to their mother, "I got a part in the school play! I'm Villager Number Six. I'll have to stay after school for rehearsal every day from 3:00 to 7:00, and I'll also need a ride on weekends." God help any Chinese kid who tried that one.
Don't get me wrong: It's not that Chinese parents don't care about their children. Just the opposite. They would give up anything for their children. It's just an entirely different parenting model.
Here's a story in favor of coercion, Chinese-style. Lulu was about 7, still playing two instruments, and working on a piano piece called "The Little White Donkey" by the French composer Jacques Ibert. The piece is really cute—you can just imagine a little donkey ambling along a country road with its master—but it's also incredibly difficult for young players because the two hands have to keep schizophrenically different rhythms.
Lulu couldn't do it. We worked on it nonstop for a week, drilling each of her hands separately, over and over. But whenever we tried putting the hands together, one always morphed into the other, and everything fell apart. Finally, the day before her lesson, Lulu announced in exasperation that she was giving up and stomped off.
"Get back to the piano now," I ordered.
"You can't make me."
"Oh yes, I can."
Back at the piano, Lulu made me pay. She punched, thrashed and kicked. She grabbed the music score and tore it to shreds. I taped the score back together and encased it in a plastic shield so that it could never be destroyed again. Then I hauled Lulu's dollhouse to the car and told her I'd donate it to the Salvation Army piece by piece if she didn't have "The Little White Donkey" perfect by the next day. When Lulu said, "I thought you were going to the Salvation Army, why are you still here?" I threatened her with no lunch, no dinner, no Christmas or Hanukkah presents, no birthday parties for two, three, four years. When she still kept playing it wrong, I told her she was purposely working herself into a frenzy because she was secretly afraid she couldn't do it. I told her to stop being lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent and pathetic.
Jed took me aside. He told me to stop insulting Lulu—which I wasn't even doing, I was just motivating her—and that he didn't think threatening Lulu was helpful. Also, he said, maybe Lulu really just couldn't do the technique—perhaps she didn't have the coordination yet—had I considered that possibility?
"You just don't believe in her," I accused.
"That's ridiculous," Jed said scornfully. "Of course I do."
"Sophia could play the piece when she was this age."
"But Lulu and Sophia are different people," Jed pointed out.
"Oh no, not this," I said, rolling my eyes. "Everyone is special in their special own way," I mimicked sarcastically. "Even losers are special in their own special way. Well don't worry, you don't have to lift a finger. I'm willing to put in as long as it takes, and I'm happy to be the one hated. And you can be the one they adore because you make them pancakes and take them to Yankees games."
I rolled up my sleeves and went back to Lulu. I used every weapon and tactic I could think of. We worked right through dinner into the night, and I wouldn't let Lulu get up, not for water, not even to go to the bathroom. The house became a war zone, and I lost my voice yelling, but still there seemed to be only negative progress, and even I began to have doubts.
Then, out of the blue, Lulu did it. Her hands suddenly came together—her right and left hands each doing their own imperturbable thing—just like that.
Lulu realized it the same time I did. I held my breath. She tried it tentatively again. Then she played it more confidently and faster, and still the rhythm held. A moment later, she was beaming.
"Mommy, look—it's easy!" After that, she wanted to play the piece over and over and wouldn't leave the piano. That night, she came to sleep in my bed, and we snuggled and hugged, cracking each other up. When she performed "The Little White Donkey" at a recital a few weeks later, parents came up to me and said, "What a perfect piece for Lulu—it's so spunky and so her."
Even Jed gave me credit for that one. Western parents worry a lot about their children's self-esteem. But as a parent, one of the worst things you can do for your child's self-esteem is to let them give up. On the flip side, there's nothing better for building confidence than learning you can do something you thought you couldn't.
There are all these new books out there portraying Asian mothers as scheming, callous, overdriven people indifferent to their kids' true interests. For their part, many Chinese secretly believe that they care more about their children and are willing to sacrifice much more for them than Westerners, who seem perfectly content to let their children turn out badly. I think it's a misunderstanding on both sides. All decent parents want to do what's best for their children. The Chinese just have a totally different idea of how to do that.
Western parents try to respect their children's individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away.
—Amy Chua is a professor at Yale Law School and author of "Day of Empire" and "World on Fire: How Exporting Free Market Democracy Breeds Ethnic Hatred and Global Instability." This essay is excerpted from "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother" by Amy Chua, to be published Tuesday by the Penguin Press, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Copyright © 2011 by Amy Chua.
Now, the final word about superpowers and miracle is actually to disassociate with them, but instead seek practicality in life.
He reached the riverbank.
Someone shouted at him - not in a rude way.
"Hey, Lord Buddha, people hah say you so powerful, I also powerful, you want to see what I can do" (contemporarized, translated)
"Well, what can you do?"
"I can cross the river without getting wet."
"Seriously?!"
And without further explaination, the man flew off the ground and stepped on the water.
He did not sank, but continue to stride above the water till the other side.
And he came back to Buddha the same awesome kungfu way, that some of you might have watch those move in most Hong Kong movies.
"Buddha, you see that?"
"Yes, how many years you've trained?"
"20years."
"Let me show you how can I cross the river without getting wet"
"Awesome. This I must see."
Pheeewwwittt..
Lord Buddha stepped into a boat.
"Hi, boatman, how much to take me across the river?"
"Oh, usually I charge few pennies, but for Lord Buddha, it's my pleasure"
Lord Buddha turned back to the Kungfu Guy.
"As you can see, you had wasted 20years to attain what can be done with few pennies."
Well, this is how the Aircast looks like. I was imagining myself looking partially like the Young Forrest Gump, but instead found myself partly looking like RoboCop, but with major excruciating pain over the ankle in the first few stretches.She was previously well until few months ago.
At that point, instant relief with Ranitidine made gastritis the most probable answer to her condition.
Yet, retrospectively, I wished I had referred her early to the Surgical Team in JB for an upper scope and Clo-tested her. Probably I should also screened her through a simple erect abdominal X-ray or referred for hepatobiliary scan to rule out cholelithiasis, although she wasn’t exactly the fat, fair, fertile female of forty (the risk factors for that disease as I remembered it from my medical school days)
The pain over the epigastric recurred but now referred to right hypochondrium and she had mild jaundice. She was admitted after a scan from the district hospital showed a probable stone with a possibility of external compression. The line of thoughts towards malignancy probably pushed them for a quick decision for a CT scan, which at my centre may take longer period of interval to materialize.
She was stable, afebrile and do not have raised total whites, although initial house officer’s information to me was inaccurate (inaccurately shocking) and did caused a bit of turbulence in my troubled minds over the withheld decision of commencing antibiotics.
The CT’s result was a consolation as from the board of blacks and whites, possibility of carcinoma could probably be thrown out of the window. She told me about her CT scan findings and going for op tomorrow, but unsure about the approach, but she had already signed the consent. Yep, typical Malaysian patients. But I wished to confirm for her.
I called several times to the hospy, only managed to speak to the junior doctors (HOs), and I really did not want to bother the Medical Officer until tonight because the junior doctors were surprisingly incompetent in conveying basic information about my mother-in-law even with the patient’s record in front of them. Sad, really.
Me: Hi, I’m Dr L, son-in-law of patient Madam T, may I know what is her current condition?
HO A: OK. Wait
(Went for the records)
HO A: Hi, I’m Dr. A. Your mother-in-law is well, tolerating orally, afebrile, haemodynamically stable.
Me: May I know the plan for her?
HO A: continue observation. Keep nil by mouth 12 midnight. That’s all.
Me: Any reason to keep her nil by mouth?
HO A: Wait ha.
(Turned and softly can be heard HO A consulting some people, presumedly more senior HO or Nurses)
HO A: Oh, she is for open cholecystectomy tomorrow.
Me: What is her CT scan findings?
HO A: Wait ha.
(Turned and softly can be heard HO A consulting some people, presumedly more senior HO or Nurses)
HO A: Err.. Cholelithiasis and left ovarian cyst.
Me: Is there a reason why she planned for open instead of lap chole?
HO A: (silent)
Me: (thinking. okay, my fault. This should be asked to someone with more experience) Never mind, may I know who is the MO on call?
HO A: Yes, he is Dr. X. You can speeddialled him at 6xxx.
Before I called up Dr. X, I googled up Open vs Lap Chole and landed in the Cochrane Review with the conclusion of superiority of Lap Chole against Open approach. To double confirm, I consulted my colleague from Surgery, Dr N. He told me even with difficulties, even with chronic cholecystitis is resectable laparoscopically, and possible indication is gallbladder empyema and probably suspected stones in the common bile duct (choledocolithiasis).
I called up Dr. H through their hospy’s operator.
Dr. H: Hi, Ya!
Me: Hi, I’m Dr L, son-in-law of patient Madam T, a patient in Ward E2
Dr. H: I’m not in-charge of that ward. I don’t know about her.
Me: Actually, she was planned for open cholecystectomy tomorrow. I would like to enquire why the more common laparoscopic approach was being differed.
Dr. H: That is my surgeon’s decision. I don’t know anything about it, and I can’t decide for her.
Dr. H: Why you insist on laparoscopic? You from where?
Me: I’m from Hosp xx.
Dr. H: I mean you’re from WHAT specialty?
Me: I’m from O&G.
Dr. H: Let me tell you OPEN CHOLECYSTECTOMY is very common. Even if we do Lap Chole, we can always convert to OPEN, you know. Why do you insist of wanting it?
Me: Err… Less hospital stay. Better recovery post op. I checked the Cochrane Review.
Dr. H: Err… What’s your mother-in-law’s name?
Me: Mdm Txx.
Dr. H: Wait. I go take her records.
Me: OK.
(flip flip flip)
Dr. H: She actually have Choledocolithiasis. We plan to do cholangiogram for possible stone in the bile duct stones.
Me: Thank you, just to clarify, I’m not insisting on laparoscopic approach, I just wish to know the indication for open.
Dr. H: OK (Shut off the phone).
This is the most patronizing conversation ever with a colleague in medical field. I was thinking that probably I should just tell Dr. H, I am just a first posting house officer and hear how much more demeaning can he be.
Probably the junior doctor should be given some brownie points for being polite enough to introduce before the conversation.
I hope my mother-in-law will have a smooth uncomplicated uneventful operation tomorrow and a speedy recovery from then onwards.
* delayed entry
Day 3 of the Chinese New Year – the Year of the Tiger.
A ferocious year as described by the Chinese astrology expert, which certainly make most Chinese or those who chose to believe it to think twice before diving in on dangerous sports or activities.
I was told of this hypothesis about vulnerability of those who were born under the year of Monkey, as evident by my cousin sister’s femur fracture as the target board victim from a speeding buffoon on a bike and my 2nd uncle’s ulnar fracture from a freaky slippery floor accident while he was on a bike.
Anyway, our southern neighbor
Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps not.
A night before, my mother-in-law stayed up whole night, rallying between her bed and the toilet sink. She was having epigastric discomfort which elevated to pain with accompanying sweating and possibly sympathetic symptoms followed by repeated vomiting. Initially she emptied her delightful chicken dinner and followed by yellowish gastric juices. She was under the radar for the whole night until in the morning when I found her rather weak and held her fist close to her upper abdomen. She had a long previous history of gastritis but was not committed enough for the gastro scope yet.
My dearest’s aunt who came back from Australia suggested a consultation from the 1Malaysia clinic nearby which she was taken aback when I told her the person in white w
ho had put a stet over her chest few days ago before she was given some medication for her cold and cough was neither a licensed doctor nor a trainee doctor, but a medical assistant.
Since I was around and the 1fMalaysia clinic was just few blocks away, I decided to bring my mother-in-law (MIL) in her 60s there, mainly to get a good medication for her highly likely gastritis attack and to rule out other possibly lethal condition, such as the most common heart attack and pancreatitis.
The clinic was very impressive. Bling bling. Full
y air-conditioned, glass front and all new furni
ture with a PPK or female attendant seated there.
The PPK popped the question to my MIL
.
“Ade ape makcik?” (What do you have, auntie?)
“Sakit perut.Gastric” (Stomachache. Gastric)
I kept quiet, resisting the urge to play the role of the patronizing son-in-law.
She got the number ‘2’.
Waited for 5minutes and we’re up.
There were only 2 more patients after us.
No wonder the short queue was thrilling most of the people who wrote in to local press to jack this 1fmalaysia clinic.
The short waiting minutes did not deprive my roving eyes. I noted the organization chart with names of few doctors who are nominally in charge of this clinic but physically not in the clinic.
I accompanied my MIL into the consultation room. The g
uy MA was seated comfortably there behind the posh desk with the laptop screen over his left showing of football formation with the title ‘Crystal Palace Formation Tactic’.
Another nurse was seated opposite him in another desk busy with some paperworks of her own, appeared working independently from one another.
As soon as my MIL seated down after a slow stride to chair, the MA posed the question in haste while his hands were busy scribbling on to the medical note.
“Auntie macam mana?”
“Sakit perut.”
”Auntie, tahun baru, makan banyak?”
“Tak.”
He immediately cut to the chase, put the stethoscope on my MIL’s right and left iliac fossa.
“Auntie, angin… banyak angin.”
“Sakit di sini.” My MIL was pointing to epigastic area. The MA couldn’t care less, wasn’t even looking, scribbling down name of medications.
original medical note of 1fmalaysia clinic
“Auntie, angin.”
“Ini menantu saya, loktor.”
The MA suddenly sat right up and appeared more attentive.
“Oh doktor dari mana?”
“Saya dari xx. Sini boleh buat ECG? Ada ranitidine?”
“Tak, sini klinik kecil saje. Kita hanya rawat symptomatic je.”
He turned to the big cabinet behind him with multiple compartments with multiple over the counter medication, and passed to me some Gelusil (antacid) pills.
“OK, tak pe. Thank you.”
By that piece of ‘thank you’, I thanked 1fmalaysia clinic for giving me a valuable lesson in realizing my stupidity in wasting time with such a fraud medical set up.
I travelled further down 2 kms to the emergency department of a district hospital which is bustling with people and was clearly understaffed. I sympathized with the nurses there who worked continuously like lab rats, but they kind enough to spare few minutes to do an ECG for my MIL. As for the rest, I clerked, set branula, prescribed, got the medication from the pharmacy and took blood to rule out pancreatitis. Improvement was evident a few minutes after I pushed some good old Ranitidine into my MIL’s vein, and she was all bright and shiny on regular Ranitidine tabs. As for my future plan, I would need to seek out any acquaintances of mine down south for an appointment in Surgical Outpatient in JB.
Now I would like to make several notably point about 1fmalaysia clinic.
Firstly, without a doubt, the clinic had given false reassurance and by all and any standard, is more of a killer than a healer.
The MA was there as a leader of the medical team, yet he was in a rush to get back to his ‘
No one can blame him, actually. Someone put him there, in spite of his inability to screen for warning signs, and unfortunately, his confident diagnosis of ‘angin’ gave a false reassurance which may lethally delayed proper treatment.
Traditionally, we're taught never to see the patient as a disease or a system of collection of various organs, but see the patient as a whole, the way of holistic medicine. But 1fmalaysia clinic serves efficiently as the health center for 'symptomatic' treatment, now the advance healthcare in Malaysia is moving 'forward' from seeing patient as a whole to seeing just symptoms.
My MIL asked me a question that I couldn’t answer. “Why was he putting his stethoscope at my lower abs when my pain is in the epigastric?”
I sighed in silent.
If my MIL wasn’t in her sixties, I would be calling it a sexual molestation.
And this would go on and on and on and on, till someone would come in for a check and balance for this idiocy.
Secondly, this is clearly public fund embezzlement. When all this real money can be used to upgrade the nearby district clinic, it was instead being used to pay for this air-conditioned joint serving a mediocre function.
Instead of lightening the workload of the hospy nearby, deployment of these 3 medical personnel in this 1fmalaysia clinic is a poor wastage of human resource.
The only benefit is serve the public is you just need to pay RM 1 for the RM20 over-the-counter medications for minor ailments.
Thirdly, the wave of political decisions for this ‘third world’ set up which swept swiftly across the country despite of strong professional bodies’ objections just proved that, either our country’s medical elders were too weak, too pussy, too apathetic or too corrupted to care, or our political leader is in a haste to set up a legacy, destined to gamble with the public funds and many innocent lives of the rakyat.
Nevertheless, I would like to end with a positive note.
All the accumulations and collections of medical misappropriation along with all the future cropped-up sodomy allegations will definitely be gold mines for my fellow friends practicing the art of Law.
Note to self: Prime Aedan to be a lawyer when he grows up.
P.S. please don't make any speculation as what the f between the 1 and malaysia stands for.
