A ‘pull back’

Several of my friends have been asking me lately if I’m still continuing in the healthcare sector. I’ve had to reply, no. And, also explain to them that my healthcare dream took off only to swiftly turn back for an emergency landing. I’d go on to elaborate further on why and how, extensively or briefly, depending on how keen the listener is. Those close to me know exactly what the landing on ground zero meant to me then and what followed after that. 

To give you a bit of background, I’ve had a long, strong feeling—almost an urge, if I can humbly say it—to serve society. Initially, I used to hesitate to express myself, as I didn’t have any clarity. This was particularly true after I received an unexpected, intensely critical, and acutely cynical response. That’s when, carefully, I stopped sharing my thoughts, particularly on the topic. However, my desire to give back to humanity only grew stronger with time, even though I rarely expressed it, prioritising action over words. 

Some of my closest friends tell me that my voluminous literary contribution could count, but I differ there. I feel they consist mostly of what I create out of the themes I derive from humanity to give back to humanity. My creating communities through anthologies and podcasts would count to some extent as giving back, but to literature. I knew one thing for sure: I had to explore other ways, but I had no clear leads. Therefore, I was constantly on the lookout. 

That’s when the pandemic, just as it did for many people, made me also think of healthcare. When Singapore was slowly getting out of the ‘circuit breaker’ or the ‘lock down’ as popularly referred to across the world, I enrolled myself in a six-month full-time course as a ‘patient service associate’ in late 2021.  

My course was a hybrid arrangement—a combination of in-person training, role playing, hands-on training, individual and group projects, presentations, assessments, and many days of intensive lessons and tests via Zoom. 

If I share with you something significant, I think you can better understand how intensely keen I was on completing the course without any disruption. 

It happened too suddenly. Halfway through the course, my mother passed away in late January 2022, which we didn’t even expect. Her exit was so enviably smooth that I started praying for a similar one when my time came. The point I’m highlighting here is that I chose not to fly to India, mainly because I knew two weeks away from Singapore meant losing my entire course. The school management confirmed that lack of attendance would affect my completion, and they couldn’t do anything to help me with that. And I’d also missed out on the yet-to-be-completed modules. I thought the course was my visa to my dream of contributing in the way I hoped to.

After my course completion, I started hunting for a job diligently. Recruiters couldn’t help me much, just as I’d expected. They were mostly put off the moment they knew my age. I won’t blame them. 

The extensive interview via Zoom with Ng Teng Fong Hospital for the role of ‘pharmacy assistant’ went quite well until they said to me with genuine concern – the eight working hours would either be walking or standing with hardly any time to sit. I thought a combination of sitting, standing, and walking would be good, ideally.

My continuous, relentless search helped me land a job with the National Kidney Foundation—a role with the right mix of sitting, standing, and walking. 

During the interview, they carefully highlighted – there was one particular JD out of the two dozen on the list that prevented most of the aspiring middle-aged new DCAs from staying longer. I still remember it so vividly. I asked them spontaneously if I’d be able to take that. In turn, they put before me a question: did I exercise regularly? When I said I did, I meant at least five or six days a week. They told me I should be fine. I said to them, I’d take it as a natural strengthening workout for my arms, and they appreciated my positive attitude.

Thus, my elaborately grand onboarding began. The theory lessons on the functions of the human kidney, along with important practical training, including priming of haemodialysis machinery, commenced. Priming the long transparent saline tubes without bubbles, by the way, is one of the most crucial tasks.

Apart from assisting the nurses with priming and refilling of consumables like syringes, saline, alcohol wipes, etc., I also had to check for the specific 5-litre cans of ‘A solution’ as per the list, match them to the bed number, and mark them boldly to set them aside on trolleys for the morning and afternoon sessions separately. There were 16 terminals in the centre, and each would need a fresh can when they began dialysis, with some refilling midway through the 6-7-hour process. 

I was slowly getting used to wearing the deep blue uniforms, or, more appropriately, scrubs, as well as the rotating AM and PM shifts. I believed so much that I’d be able to take on the demands of the routine that I had already started dreaming of. I dreamt of serving patients by assisting the nurses in the setting for the next ten to twelve years, or as long as my health and mobility permitted me. 

But, sensing the drastic changes in my daily routine during the first week, my body went crazy. It could not match the determination of my mind, which was sprinting ahead to adapt quickly to the environment. My body and mind were poles apart, like I’d never felt before in my life. I woke up at 4 a.m. to cook and do household chores during my morning shift. Afternoon shifts brought me home late. The centre functioned six days, but the roster had Sunday for all and another one-week day as off days. 

I wished to make the best use of the opportunity, but, unfortunately, that one arduous task of sorting A solution cans didn’t suit my lower back. The acute back pain made me worry about holding on to my job. 

A visit to the private clinic and the prescribed medicines didn’t help, even marginally. Therefore, I had to go to the polyclinic. My X-rays revealed nothing, so the doctor prescribed a stronger painkiller along with medications for muscular inflammation. 

The third week was a lot worse. I was at a point, you know, when we naturally realise – tolerance, perseverance, and patience are virtues, but only to a certain peak of saturation when it comes to our physical being. Beyond that, everything becomes meaningless, translating only to unkindness and self-abuse. 

During the fourth week, my body screamed so much that I had to completely stop all of my deleterious tasks and listen to it. Not used to physical exertion, my body pleaded with me never to experiment again. I had to say, I wouldn’t. 

I forgot about all other things and focused only on my recovery. The very thought of ‘A solution’ brought me nightmares. I hadn’t anticipated the terror building up in me. I even started rethinking holding on to my role.

No doubt, I felt extremely disappointed and sad to give up in less than a month and a half. 

I did think of giving myself a month before deciding, but the new set of medicines and rest failed to help me, and I also had to return to work after the MC. 

I assessed my situation, and the long-term implications for my back and decided I wouldn’t make things worse. And I knew I’d need at least a few weeks of complete rest to get back to my normal self, forget about my work life. 

With my naturally positive learning attitude and good team spirit, I consoled myself. I could think of another role in other branches of the sector, like the training team, the medical social team, or those that could tap into my other linguist and communication skills and wouldn’t require the physical part of me. 

Oh yes, I did talk to management, but there was no way they could tweak the JD for me, to help me adapt to the role. I understood perfectly when they explained to me that such customisation was impossible. Nonetheless, thoroughly impressed with the service it has rendered to our community, I thanked NKF for the opportunity they gave me, giving me a taste of dialysis settings. I paid back the only salary I’d earned as a penalty for breaking my employment contract. 

My back thanked me like no human can ever be grateful for anything or anyone in life. 

On the other hand, the work experience I’d derived from the ephemeral stint was incomparable, making me a lot wiser. I witnessed an important part of human life I might otherwise have never had. 

Just like the haemodialysis equipment, our urological systems are machines too, but organic. Responsibly helping mine function well for as long as possible started to sound a lot more meaningful than before.

Subsequently, my determination to find a hold on healthcare only increased as I recovered from my backache. So, within the next month, I completed another short course at OJT on ‘phlebotomy’. I thought of a role in a laboratory where I would not have to manually handle heavy objects.

No, none of the healthcare management was willing to hire me. Obviously, they had a wide range of young job hunters to train and place suitably, but I continued my search. There was not even the tiniest flick of light visible in the narrow, dark, and long tunnel.

And destiny had been stalking me all along. I hadn’t noticed it close behind me at my heels. 

I hear you asking, so, where exactly are you working now? Now that I’ve written my second blog post, just as I’d resolved to, I think I will continue. To draft out my third, around the same time next month, about the ‘push forward’ that happened to me. 

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