Betrayed

"Being betrayed is much more cruel than Death." - Luna, Chronicles of Blitz

22nd December (Monday) - Today's the Winter Solstice Festival. And it was supposed to be a good day, and oh my God, today is by far, the most horrible, worst day of my life. How do I put it? It's like all of my worst nightmare came true. I always laughed off the fact that people are talking bad behind my back but it turns out to be true.
It all started off innocently enough. Bed-making, no sponging for this round, showers only. Then to report writing. The madam who was supposed to go back to Singapore is still there, poor thing, she's having a lot of headache but she had wanted to take a shower, but with her condition like that, I advised her to call us if she really wants to shower, but in the end, she lay down on her bed, moaning in pain. Since she could not go for shower, I had to connect her drip back. Just by coincidence, the CI was also there, and I only just removed the needle before removing the spigot of the line and she lectured on me for not being sterile. Oh for God's sake, I removed the needle first before the spigot in case blood start spilling out from the line, is it wrong? The she asked me to aspirate, which I did so, no blood, so I pushed in just 0.1 ml of hep saline before the lady screamed in pain. Oh no no no no, please don't tell me the line is blocked. The CI gave me another long lecture before telling me, "Go and inform the TL about the line being blocked." Urgh. She, in turn, then told me to ask the Daycare Unit girls to insert line. Well, I don't know the number, so I just hurried over to the daycare and asked the girls whether they can insert a line. They asked me which patient, and I mentioned so-and-so's name. Then they all went, "Oh noooo. We can't insert for him. He charges the patient a lot, so he prefers to do it himself. Sorry." So I went back to the TL and silently reported the answer and she said, "Oh, really? Oh well. Then wait for him, then." So I prepared my tray nicely and set it among his patient folders so that he can set another line.
Uncle came back, you know, our 3 month long uncle. Yes, he's so much thinner now and he came to remove the tube. Aha, uncle's busy trying to have fun with the nurses again. Funny uncle. His daughter came with him this time instead of his wife, who is at home. He is able to stand, if slightly wobbly, but he's able to move his legs. Great, uncle. ^^
I didn't get to observe the PEG tube removal, because the madam asked me to flush her line again. I blinked at her and asked, "Are you sure? You sure you won't feel pain anymore?" And she said probably just a false alarm, so I just said alright and flushed her line. YES!!! No pain! Hooray. We are both so happy cause she don't have to suffer getting another line inserted. I asked her casually, "How can you stand prof poking at your veins every time?" And she answered, "I keep bearing the pain, you know, nurse. And I think prof loves to insert line, cause he always seems so happy poking me everywhere." Awww, poor madam. Thank God the line was saved, otherwise she'll have to suffer again. Now I can connect her drip back.
Before heading for lunch, the CI wanted to see me, and with that feeling of dread clouding over my head, I went in for my 3 month evaluation. I saw my folder on the table and saw it inches thick. Huh? I don't remember inserting a lot of my documents, just the important ones, and how come I saw a vital sign chart on top? I don't remember taking vital signs in my clinic sessions. Turns out the several inches thick paper is not my document, but the feedbacks and quotes from my past four months. What shocked me to the core was all of the feedbacks, were negative feedbacks from senior staff nurses and the Sisters. I swear, I knew I was going to get feedbacks, but I didn't expect so many. It was layered upon layered with tons of stuff. The CI quoted some to me.

"She's so irresponsible..." "Always going back at 2 o' clock...." "So calculative with everything she does..." "She's useless, can't even work properly..." "Always running away when her work is half-done..." "She doesn't know how to ask for things..." "So dishonest..." "She never seemed to respect her job..."

What the heck- I was sitting there numbly as she read some of the feedbacks to me. I had never go back at 2 o' clock sharp, I always go back at 2.30 or past that, because my poor mother is always there by two, although now I asked her to come at 2.30 to avoid being chased by the guard. And I always finished my work, ALWAYS, I never leave it hanging. But what's the point of saying all of these when I'm being bombarded by all the lines in black and white. I just felt as though I got my spine knifed and tore out form my back, grounded to pieces, with another knife plunged deep into my heart and twisted. It was that bad. I really had no idea that the feedbacks were all so negative. I actually burst into tears, even though I was biting my lips so hard and clawing at my hands til the skin were peeling and pink, to the point I was being half-breathless due to my nose being blocked again. If that's the case, I think I should be robotic. A means A, B means B, no questions asked. She even took lines from me which were a joke. "I didn't want to go back to FOC because all the Chinese patients kept chasing me. " It was just a JOKE, yet she took it down as a complaint. For God's sake, then I shouldn't joke either, otherwise my words will be used against me. And the microwave incident. I already said I was SORRY, I admitted it was my fault, why are they holding it against me? It was an accident, and Datin also apologized.
After the feedback, I thought back to myself. The professors never complained about me, maybe one or two who are the fussy type and perfectionist type do, but that's a different story, same goes for my patients, unless they are the fussy type as well. I kinda get it what my friend meant when she said, "The most important thing is the doctors and patients love you, your colleagues sometimes tends to back stab you when you least expect it."
God, I feel like seeing a psychiatrist now. And my fingers hurts from all the clawing. Had my nails been sharp and long, I might've drawn blood. And I had some pretty good idea who wrote those negative feedbacks, but I'm not going to say anything. The damage has already been done, and there's nothing I can do but to wipe away my tears and keep going onwards.