when the rain keeps coming back

Dear Blog,

It gets harder and harder to forget. Anything and everything reminds me of her. Especially the patients at the ward, God, the patients.

Elderly female
On oxygen therapy
Cute and petite

You name it

Last night, I was on-call at Triage 2 (T2) at the A&E, but I went in the ER coz there weren't any patients coming in.

At the cubicles, there were numerous elderly patients dependent on oxygen therapy. Most were female, too.

I couldn't help but notice this Chinese, elderly lady's monitor going "TET! TET! TET! TET!"

I looked at her monitor and it showed low oxygen saturation (SpO2) at about 72-78%. No one did anything, coz there were other cases at the ER that needed attention. The patient was looking at everyone walking by, prolly wondering why no one was alarmed by this...well, alarm going off. After a few minutes, I saw a doctor approach her monitor and put it on silent.

I guess, low SpO2 don't mean anything? I mean, I don't know. Like I said, maybe there are other cases in the ER that were more urgent. But, the look on the patient's face saddened me. She looked worried that the monitor alarm went off but no one seemed to care. I was relieved when a Chinese colleague of mine approached her and checked her vitals and re-assured her that she shouldn't feel alarmed coz she was ok.

I imagined if it were Tok Mum. And I would not want her to feel neglected in terms of care and monitoring. As a family member of a patient, you would wonder why the alarm went off and why no one's giving any close attention and can't help but to think "is my grandmother not important too?".

Another Indian elderly lady, beside the previous lady's cubicle came in with back pain and SOB. A friend wanted to place a continuous bladder drainage (CBD) on her. And since it was in our logbooks, EVERY student in the ER wanted to either perform, assist or observe this procedure.

I felt ashamed and sorry for this patient. I felt sorry because she was literally exposed to all of us, and she was an ill person. I imagined when Tok Mum was in PPUM, was she exposed like this when they inserted a CBD in her? Were there alotta students observing when the nurse or whoever inserted it? I wouldn't want Tok Mum to go through that.

When the procedure ended, everyone quickly dispersed. Only a few of us stayed behind to help my colleague clean up. I was looking at her listening to an Indian colleague of mine speaking to her in Tamil, prolly apologizing for the inconvenience she went through. So, I too said sorry to the patient, hoping she understood what I felt sorry for.

But she just smiled back at me, a cute, friendly, "it's ok" smile and held out her hand to shake mine. I took it and salam her. And then something inside of me just felt...empty. I felt sad. I started to cry but turned away and blinked the tears away.

I don't know how I am to concentrate. I can't focus. I'm constantly thinking about her. I just...miss her so much. I wish that every weekend, I have her arms waiting for me at home...waiting for me to run into them...and just give me a long hug. And for her to tell me that everything is alright. It was just a bad dream. But that won't happen. It never will. Because it's not a dream. It's real. She's gone. And she's never coming back. I don't know how to let go.

I think I need help.