Haunted by Past

22th February (Monday) - You think, that today being Chap Goh Mei will be a happy day. But oh no, this is MY life we're talking about, and it's anything but normal.
Things started off innocently enough, then there's an incident on Saturday, yes, I did not manage to post it up back then cause I was beaned. I was returning the appointment book to the respective department when the two senior girls asked whether I'm happy working in an outpatient department. Is that a trick question? "Of course I do, the place here is wonderful, I get to meet doctors, some really nice ones, and I have wonderful supportive friends who had helped me." Then, comes the bombshell.
"Do you want to go back to your old department?"
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"Are you okay? Your face is really white, like someone had sucked out all your blood..."
I swear, my heart seemed to have dropped all the way into my stomach.
Go...back...there?
"We're not forcing you or anything, but it's just that there were some...incidents going on, that's why we are asking you whether you want to go back there."
Oh... Going back to the place where I worked at means staying with one doctor, and handling the few little cases, but is it worth it? I suffered depression from there, attempted self-harm and self-loathing, and very nearly gave up on being a nurse. I was shifted from here and there, absolutely lost til I went to the place where I am now. Where the people there had brought me back on track, the doctors, especially a few, supported me. My friends at that department, supported each other, got each other's back, like that song :

Our paths, they did cross,
Though I cannot say just why,
We met, we laughed, we held on fast,
And then we say goodbye.
And who'll hear the echoes of stories never told?
Let them ring out till they unfold.

Even when we were busy, get yelled at by rude patients, we still stick together. I dubbed us the Three Musketeers since there are three of us (nurses, I mean), which they accepted as an endearing term. And to be really frank, even if I were to go back, what can I achieve? I know my condition, I got nothing against the people, but it's more like the environment is not right for me. I can try, and try til I break, but I'll never be able to fit in there. Yes, it's a small place that focuses only on certain procedures, but I'll be miserable. I won't be able to be with my friends and my doctors. I'm not willing to give it all up. My department is big, true, with all sorts of doctors to handle, and all sorts of funny procedures, but I was happy. Truly happy to find a place where I belonged. They knew that I wrote novels as a second job and they were proud of me, even giving me inputs on some ideas. I had to go for my psychiatrist's appointment when the time comes, and they were accepting of me, instead of shunning me as though I am a pariah. Especially the surgeon whom I assisted, he had seen me going for my appointment and he had been supportive, always telling me not to stress, not to get upset, but to let him know if I'm having difficulty. If I had been there, I would've never met him, or any other doctors, of all types.  
When I got back after a long while, they asked me where had I been. Never one to hide anything from them, I told them the issue. They were actually outraged, for me. "Who do they think they are? When she was depressed, they had to throw her out. Now that we had mold her back to normal,. they think they can just waltz in and take her back just because of their incidents?" I nearly burst into tears, because they had accepted me as part of them from the time I joined in, even when there were rumors of me going around, about how I am insane. Outraged that they said if they dared to come, they will set the few doctors that I am closed with on them. I assured them that they didn't have to do that, because I had politely told the senior girls that I refused the offer, not that I still hold hatred against my old department, but because there are just some places where I just don't belong to, no matter how much I tried. Like that old saying that goes: If the shoes fits, something like that, I really can't remember how it goes.
I learned a really weird procedure today.

 Nope, you did not read it wrong. It does read Buddy Splint. God knows, the doctor yelled at me because of the cotton balls. He wanted the old ones, the fuzzy kind, not the gauze type. No matter how much I told him that we've been using it from last year and most of our doctors love it, he was like, "Get me the freaking cotton balls NOW!!!" Fortunately, my patient was a CI for the hospital and she said, "Doctor, there really is no more of those kinds." And he kept looking at me as though it's my fault. Ahhhhh, please don't eat me. In the end, he shoved the cotton balls into my hand, fixed the splint, and walked off. Whew. The CI confirmed with me that there's no more of those cotton balls and I apologized non-stop, and said perhaps outside are still selling the old types, which she thanked me and assured to splint her toes.
I asked my friend why is it called a buddy splint, and she showed me by putting two fingers together, side by side. "Two together, right? BFF, That's why they are buddies."
Oh.... OH....
I drew the toes together like she mentioned. And yes, you can apply it for your toes and fingers, as long as you have a pair.
Over and out. With more to come.

Many Faces

20th February (Saturday) - Hello, I'm back folks. And my last post was dated back in January. The Chinese New Year festivities had everything in a rush, visiting relatives and old friends and whatnot. Being in a new working environment made things tough to take leave, but a week of R & R is good enough.
Let's see, I came back and things were the same as usual, but had a few ups and down, inside and outside of work. Before Chinese New Year, there was this patient who seemed okay enough, but the sister, the younger sister, is quite frankly, awful. There are many ways to describe her, but I'm  sticking to the one that is nicer compared to the one we're thinking of her. I'm sure you know this better than anyone, but when it comes to hospital stuff, you are not allowed to take photos or video recording. Well, when I do my usual standard of dressing, she stopped me and started talking in a really, really arrogant tone. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I was a little confused, because I didn't know what she's talking about. Then she slammed her hands on my trolley and said, "This is a sterile procedure. Why are you not using sterile gloves?!" What the-
She said WHAT?!
I looked at her brother's wound, it's no bigger than a ten cents piece, a centimeter deep. You can clean it without batting an eyelid. You don't need sterile gloves for this, just clean hands and your principal of sterility will do. Well, she basically called me a lot of names, and not satisfied, shouted, "My brother had an appendicitis!!!" (So....) I wonder what is she so worked up about. In my department, all general and gastro surgery such as appendicitis (appendix), lap cholecystectomy (gall bladders), colectomy (colon), hemorrhoids, and many other fracture bones cases surgical wounds like the knee, back, shoulder, legs and more are something that I see nearly every single day. And so far all of our patients are okay except for her. Not enough to berate me, she whipped out her phone and started recording me, demanding me to start from hand washing til the end. If I don't comply, she will take me to customer service. What could I do? My mind on auto-pilot, I complied and ignored the fact that there's a camera recording my every move. The brother kept silent, only answering when I ask him if he feel any pain. The sister made sure to keep me in her sights.
You can imagine the relief once I finally placed the dressing in place and let the patient out. The moment the brother went out, she looked at me and said coldly, "If I ever catch you doing that idiotic thing again, I will drag you to customer service." Dispirited, I sat down in a corner with my face in my hands, not crying but thinking what went wrong. My friend, pittied me, comforted me, saying that I should just ignore the crazy patient's sister. Since the sister had me in her, um, blacklist, she took the case over while I handle the other various cases. My friend(s), both of them,  are the no-nonsense type. So the sister couldn't talk to them like how she did to me. Turns out the sister is a staff nurse in the National Heart Institute.
!!!!!!!!
Now hold on a minute. The Heart Institute deals with heart cases, and, of course you need to be sterile because the heart is a vital organ. One slip and you will cause death. The brother has appendicitis. Now I'm not saying that it's not a big deal, but common sense here, if your patient has a dry incision wound, don't tell me you are going to open a dressing set, one large bottle of saline, sterile gloves, all for the sake of a dry wound, where you can actually just wear normal gloves for protection and use one swipe of the alcohol swab to clean the dried blood. Believe me, when I first started down here, a doctor was going on and on about how opening a dressing set to clean a small dry wound is a total waste of money. Since then, I always looked at the severity of the wound first before deciding on the dressing set or not. And to be frank, being a nurse in the Heart Institute is nothing to be braggy about. I been to banks many times and had to fill in the occupation part, when I put down my position and company name, most people go, "Oh, a 5 star hospital, so good." But I always smile and shake my head, saying it's just like any other hospital. When I was a patient undergoing surgery, I had never sued my position to bully other nurses, I just act like a patient, because the moment you are sick, and you come for help, you are a patient. Of course I've had student nurses taking my vital signs and whatnot, but I had never once antagonize them by pointing out their flaws, I just smiled softly, but did give them advices and tips instead of yelling at them like some maniac. The doctor asked me about the patient and he said that the brother and sister duo had caused dramas in the ward as well. Hm, if only the world is such a nice place.
Yesterday I encountered a family of three under one of our department surgeon. The mother was the speaker for the family, she came up and rapped the counter and said, in a very rude and arrogant tone, "My son had daily dressing under Dr. So-and-So. Do I go to the ward for dressing or here?" With a bright smile plastered on my face, even though my heart is writhing at her tone, I answered, in a really bright tone, that all dressings will be done in our treatment rooms. She took a look at the room and gave a huff. Then, rapping the counter again, she said, in that tone of hers. "I want to know how much is the cost for a dressing." Again, I told her politely that I can't name her a price, because each and every patients are different. Then she snapped, "You are a nurse. Surely you had seen all sorts of dressings, I want you to give me a fixed amount! Don't tell me you don't know how much a dressing costs if I told you my son dressing is about this big! (She puts her thumb and index finger together.)"
Oh..... I know these types. These types of patients are the one who asked you a price, then they come for the procedure. Even if it's a few dollars expensive than the one you stated, they will go to customer service, start making dramas, and then, the usual statement, "The nurse told me so!!!" Sorry, I had my fair amount of handling these types, so I told her, quite firmly, that I don't know the exact price, and if she has any inquiries, to please go back to her son's primary doctor. Naturally, she took my word, then went to cause a big drama for the doctor as well. Ahhh, I guess there's no reasoning with some patients.
After work, I went out shopping with dad for a blanket-pillow for traveling necessities, so we found a nice empty space at the parking lot and parked there. No sooner had we taken more than a few paces, this elegantly dressed lady in red came out, and said in very rude way, to please move our car. We didn't get it because she parked in her space, and so did we. But no, she was making a big fuss that our car will bang hers. So we took a good look at her car. A really old, faded green Proton Saga with rusted tires. For the love of - IT'S NOT EVEN A PROPERLY MAINTAINED CAR OR SOMETHING FANCY LIKE A MERCEDES, yet she kept demanding us to move. When we put the car in reverse, she didn't walked away, but watch us with those hawk eye gaze of hers. Fuming, my dad ordered me to get in the car and we drove another round for a parking spot. We passed that lady's car again, and surprise, surprise, no one parked beside her. I took a quick sneak peek and saw the lady sitting at a window table of a coffeehouse, staring out at her car. Geez, no wonder why nobody wanted to park next to her. Of course Dad went ranting about how unbelievable some people are and I told him to calm down, to not lose himself, and someday, karma will come back to her. It's the Circle of Life.
On an extra note, I was beaned by an orange during a lion dance. *K.O.ed*

The Darkside of Nursing

17th January (Sunday)- A post I ran across while doing research. I don't know who the author is, but her Facebook name says Do Not Resuscitate 

 

 The surgeon is doing a tonsillectomy on a 4 year old boy. Dr. Jones drops an instrument on the floor of the OR. The instrument is now contaminated and has to be sterilized by a special machine called an autoclave. This was a small hospital, so they did not have a large inventory of duplicate surgical instruments. So the circulating nurse put the instrument into the autoclave. As this machine locked in with a special timer, they had to wait for the sterilization process to be completed.

It was 2 minutes, then 3 minutes. The surgeon screamed at the nurse saying it was taking too long. Dr. Jones stood up, having his sterile surgical gown and sterile gloves on, and he picked up the steel stool he was sitting on and threw the stool across the room and it crashed against the wall, as he screamed obscenities. No one was hurt... physically, but it was a verbal and a physical threat. This violent act or gesture was reported to administration. All of the nurses knew the surgeon would get away with it. He would never be reprimanded or put on probation. It all was swept under that proverbial rug. Like nothing happened.

Or... The circulating nurse placed an incorrect instrument onto the surgeon's sterile table during surgery. The surgeon was so angry, that he picked up his scalpel and threw it at the male circulating nurse. This scalpel, this razor, missed the nurses face by 1/2 of an inch. The nurse pressed charges. Eventually, the charges were dropped for insufficient evidence.
Administration did not blink an eye.

Cathy was a timid nurse, but was the kindest nurse you'd ever want to take care of you.
She was very busy, as is the case in the Intensive Care Units. She was new to this hospital. Her other hospital did not have many patients on ventilators. This night was a heavy assignment. She had many IV drips running. Levophed, Vasopressin, Ativan, fentanyl and a pavulon drip. The patient had to be chemically paralyzed due to his asynchronous breathing with the ventilator. Cathy could have looked up this drug: Pavulon, but she saw 3 experienced nurses and so she asked them what were the indications of Pavulon.
First they ignored her as the 3 nurses 'huddled' together laughing. They didn't answer her.
So Cathy asked her question again. And outside of her patient's room, the three nurses started to laugh and talk about her. She heard them say out loud that she was stupid and how ridiculous it was for her to ask that question. That maybe she should take remedial nursing 101.
Cathy stayed in her patient's room, looked up the info on the computer , as a few tears slowly trickled down her face. She now knew that working in this most strategic, dynamic ICU, that she was on her own. Dangerously on her own.
A month passed, where she was shunned and ignored. She heard the nurses talk about upcoming weddings and baby showers and birthday parties of fellow staff members. She knew she wasn't invited... To anything. They basically treated her like she was invisible.
Cathy felt degraded, isolated, lonely and depressed. She felt that the group of nurses were so negative and aggressive, that she didn't have a chance to change the lateral violence in that unit.
Cathy transferred out of the ICU hoping she could find a place that was friendly and kind and encouraged team work.

Patty was a traveler nurse. And she loved it. She was able to travel to different cities and states and practice her Emergency Department Nursing specialty.
This ER was gigantic, and everything came through this door. Gun shot wounds, near suicides, heart attacks, any trauma, it was a smorgasbord for all ailments throughout this big city and beyond.
But Patty noticed that this ER lacked team work. The nurses basically shunned her and immediately she felt like an outsider instead of being an experienced nurse here to help them out.
She started to receive the worst assignments. The nurse- patient ratio was one nurse to four patients. Patty was given six patients at a time. All of the time.
When she called out for help, no one was there. When she needed help pulling up a 400 pound patient, no one was there. When she needed an RN to witness her mixing a vasopressin drip stat.... No one was there.
Patty could normally handle any situation, but now she felt overwhelmed.
She overheard a staff nurse say to the charge nurse: 'Well she makes all of that money. She can do it herself. Give her the worst'.

So where are the bullies?
They are everywhere. In the nursing workforce, they are in the OR , in the Emergency Dept, in ICU's, in floor nursing, in nursing homes and assisted living centers.
Who are bullies?
Bullies are older nurses who can be cruel to the younger nurses.
They are managers and directors that turn their backs on the nurses that plead for help.
They are physicians that belittle the nurses and put them down and are condescending to them.
They are younger nurses who feel like they have a special entitlement granted unto them, who have minimal experience but dictate to the older nurses that they are now old and 'in the way'.
They are the 'know-it- all' nurses who know everything and everyone else is stupid or 'special' . The list goes on and on. The situations and circumstances unfortunately are endless. And in the land of nurses being loving and caring and saving lives and being unselfish in all that they do, there is a percentage nationwide, universally that is destroying the core of what good nursing is all about.

What is the make-up of a bully?
Someone who may have low self-esteem, that it subconsciously makes them feel better to tear someone else down.
Someone who has narcissistic tendencies. They consider themselves infallible, above all others, including physicians.
Someone who has lived in a home environment and has learned to mimic
negativities such as harassment, shunning, ignoring, and laughing at others.
This behavior affects the entire unit. It reduces morale and the chain of comradery is broken.

60-80% of nurses nationwide have reported that at some time in their nursing career, they have been bullied. Many leave that workplace, some nurses leave their profession.

Nurses that are victims become detached, they second guess their skills, they become depressed and withdrawn...

Who can help?
Besides confronting that person, management would be the next in command. If management is ineffective, human resources would be next. But there is always a fear of retaliation.
Some institutions have a 'Zero tolerance' . This behavior is not accepted. EAP (Employee Assistance Program) is recommended for the victim and for the bully. EAP is a counseling service offered by many hospitals to their employees.
A probation period may be recommended for the bully.
Hospitals that implement Zero tolerance, have seen a 50 % change in the 'climate' of the unit, for the better.

If more institutions would implement 'Zero Tolerance' we could all get back to caring and practicing what we love. And that is nursing.
Let's put a flashlight on the bullies. Make this end. Turn your units around, nationwide and get back to empowering each other, educating each other, coming together and learning from each other and helping one another with physical tasks, and emotional tasks. We are only good if we work together. For the sake of the unit, the nurses, the physicians, the technicians and most important: for the sake of the patients, let's come together and make nursing the greatest profession nationwide.
Educate, team work, empower...that's what makes a good nursing unit.

On behalf of the majority of positive nurses, managers, physicians, EMT's paramedics and technicians, I salute you all for relentlessly doing some of the hardest tasks a job could have. This medical profession is emotionally and physically challenging. We have to constantly stay updated on medical terminology and protocols. Every day, every minute is a new challenge. Saving lives is not an easy job. All due respect for these medical professionals.

 

Reading this reminds me of my previous workplace. No pointing out names here, but I was a junior in a ward, very new at that time. Working life was a whole new world to me because I had never taken part time jobs at McDonald's or other restaurants, so I had zero experience of working life. Look back to my previous blogs of 2014 and you can see some of the ups and downs. I tried to refrain the bad part because I don't want people to think nursing is an awful job, but there are some. 

Even till now, when I go outside and people ask me, "What's your profession?" And I trot out my standard answer, "SRN/ RN/ Staff Nurse." People give me that look. That look that says, "Uh...". Some just shake their head and go, "I never want to take up nursing. Always running after patients..." Or they just nod politely and take zero interest in your work. Of course everyone thinks it's an easy job, but I had encountered some of the nasty side of nursing, but I try not to let them hit me down. 

After moving from my previous workplace, I was still unable to adjust due to the trauma. Eventually I got help from kind Sisters and was shifted to a new department, where people often isolate our department side. But being isolated doesn't mean it's a bad thing, our little department were like a family. We support each other, and surprise, surprise, the surgeons here are all super understanding type. Yes, I'm not joking. There's one who is a super grumpy type, and he tends to shout, but his heart is in the right place. You just have to look past his unsmiling, strict face.

On a day after 2016 ushered in, my two colleagues are on leave due to personal issues, so I had to run the department alone. All of our surgeons just came back, so you can imagine, with all of the patients pouring in too. And there was just me. My colleague had called for help before she went on leave and you know what they say, "Oh, we're short on staff. Sorry, you guys will have to work out on your own." !!!!! Now, I said our surgeons are understanding, but imagine if you have three surgeons who are all fighting for the treatment room, and there's only one of you. You got six patient stickers waiting, each of a different doctor and procedure. The only solution is for me to go two by two at a time, with different doctors. An example would be like this:

 

(Names are all not real to respect privacy and confidentiality of others) 

1. Alex - Dr. Anderson

2. Harry - Dr. Skyler

3. Penny - Dr. Cho

4. Celia - Dr. Anderson

5. Elliot - Dr. Skyler

6. Guy - Dr. Cho

Instead of pushing all of the same doctors' patients in, you have to alternate. Like Dr Anderson in Room 1, Dr Skyler in Room 2. Once Dr Anderson is done, you push Dr Cho's patient into Room 1. And Dr Anderson to Room 2 once Dr Skyler is done and vice versa. That way you won't get stuck into any conflicts and you won't have the surgeons breathing fire down your throats. At that time, you can imagine I was running back and forth like the Mad Hatter. In between, when there's no procedures, I helped my cashier boy register patients. Because when he's busy taking payments and processing insurance letters, who is going to attend to the patients who are all impatiently waiting for their numbers to be called? And it was nearly half way through of my morning hour when they finally sent someone down, and that was after they changed the assigned person 3 times. Apparently they said a surgeon of ours is scary.
Now hold it right there. Remember I came down to this department last year, first as a temp, then to a full time staff. Never had I seen this surgeon yell or complain. No, when I wasn't sure of how to spray a certain solution to preserve the specimen, he gently took the canister from me and showed me how to spray correctly without damaging it. And few days ago when he was about to administer two injections, my friend and I were struggling with drawing Lignocaine because the syringe that we need to fill was the tuberculin syringe. The little ones that you usually use to administer insulin. The needle is so small, and the Lignocaine bottle is big. The surgeon laughed (not in a mean way) and instructed us to give the bottle a squeeze so that when you draw it actually goes into the syringe. See, that's why he's the doctor ^^
The surgeon that I often assisted, many people refused to assist him because they say he's strict, doesn't talk and smile. That's not true, I had worked with him for more than five months now, and he's a kind, sweet guy. When I sprained my ankle and overstrained my shoulder muscle, he nagged at me like a father to a daughter, instructing me that I should be more careful and gave me those anti-inflammation plaster patches and cream. Give him a chance, and you'll find that you can't get a better supportive doctor than him.
Okay, I think I ranted enough for this round. I need to rest my shoulder now, due to folding many red packets ornaments for the upcoming Chinese New Year. Can't wait. Yay...

SDS Cut

Author’s note : A cut from Chapter 26. Mainly cause it’s a little too sadistic. So I’m putting it up here for free as a Christmas gift. Please support my stories at lulu.com and createspace.com. Have a merry, merry Christmas.

Blue meets the red, and Francis couldn't help but scream as Guy set to work on him. The strand of razor inches from his face. He thrashed wildly as the tip poked his nose.

And stopped.

Wildly, he eyed the gleaming red blade in front of his eyes. Then started yelling obscenities, all the while trying to inch his way out but with no success.

"Just kidding." Guy's hair turned into a large fist and crashed into him with the force of an incoming truck.

Francis opened his eyes slowly and gave a groan. Everything's a blur and he can't really make much sense of himself right now. And the back of his head hurts like hell. Oh yeah, that kid knocked him out with a single blow. Wonderful, the first time he tried to act like a hero, he ended up getting knocked out by the bad guy and was left in a place to rot.

He tilt his head slightly, trying to make sense of the surroundings. Some sort of room with rusty pipes and bulky machinery all around, with gas hissing and dials twiddling. There's the occasional drip drip drip of water leaking from the ceiling. Judging from the dust gathered on the surface, this place hasn't been used for some time. And why is his abdomen hurting? He tried to shift himself in a more comfortable position and get some feelings back into his arms when he felt something cutting into his abdomen.

What??? With horror thudding in his heart, he put his arms slowly on his midsection and felt the thin, smooth texture of a wire.

No, not wire. He run one of his fingers slowly on it, and to his surprise, it's hair. Yards and yards of thick hair holding him down. Strands of blue and red wound around him and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't break free, despite it's thinness.

Oh, great. I'm tied... He gave an inward groan, slumping back against the large pipe that he was tied against. Not just tied by rope, but by hair. How embarrassing. It'll ruin my street cred for sure if anyone ever find out.

Footsteps sounded against the ground. Forcing the bubble of panic away and trying to keep his face cool, he forced himself to look up as two people entered the room. Oh no no no no. This is bad. Really, bad.

Guy's hair lengthened and morphed into blades, cutting into the bonds with ease. Francis didn't even have time to get the feeling back into his arms before he got kicked against the pipe, making him see stars in his eyes.

"I say he's already up and about, don't you think so, V.V.?" Guy said. V.V. said nothing, but just propped Francis against the wall and tearing his shirt open, exposing his bare chest ,pinning his arms on his side.

"What are you planning to do with me?" Francis asked.

Guy had been surveying him closely, like someone who is roasting turkey in an oven, or maybe as someone who is trying to carve patterns into wood as his hands turn into surgical scalpel blades.

He felt cold terror crushing him into him like a massive tsunami. Oh no, this is like those Saw movies where the chainsaw maniac cuts his victims into bloody chunks. The only thing missing is the roar of the chainsaw.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you just yet." Guy said. "If you die too soon then it won't be that much fun."

"If you think I'm going to sell my pal Glenn out to you, then you got it all wrong." Francis said. He was about to add something when Guy made the first cut. It cut right through his skin and it's enough to make him yell in pain.  

"That was just a test." Guy said, licking the blood off his fingers as it morphed back which is streaked with crimson. "I just want you to do me a favour."

"What favour?" Francis struggled against V.V's bonds. If he wasn't weak and tired, he could've broken free and run for freedom, but she's holding him tight. And between these two whose hair could be transformed into various weapons, he don't stand a chance.

"Oh, just a little message to those two." Guy said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a piece of neatly folded paper.  "Read this and recite it."

The paper was unfolded for him to see. After he had read it once, twice, three times, he blinked rapidly and said, "Are you serious? You call that poetry?"

"I think it's pretty good if I say so myself, actually it's not exactly poetry. It's a song."

"A song?" Francis couldn't keep the scorn from his voice.

In response, he got another cut near the forearm. He couldn't struggle, all thanks to V.V. holding him down, but he gave another yell of pain.

"I'm going to need you to sing. If you get it wrong, then I might have to end up hurting you more. And you had better get the tune right, because I might end up doing open surgery, and we have no anaesthesia lying around, for your sake."

"Go to hell." Francis spat.

Guy's hair lashed out at him five times, each drawing vicious cuts deeper than the other. Feeling blood in his mouth, he realized that he had stopped himself from screaming by biting his tongue hard.

"Al-right..." He panted, seeing there's no way out of this. "I'll sing your twisted little song..."

"Lucky me." Guy said, blade-like hair arched back like serpents ready to strike.  "Come on then, sing."

Francis felt irrationality and fear bubbling within him. But what other choice does he have? He tried humming a tune for practice then he sung the first bar.

Bad move, he earned a vicious slash across his chest.

"How unfortunate, you got the tune wrong."

Now I know how patients feel if there's no anaesthesia when there's an operation going on. He turned to face V.V. who is still holding him down, her expression blank.

"For God's sake, V.V., what are you doing?" He demanded, struggling to break her grip.

The only response he get was a blank stare. The silence scares him more than the torture.

"Go on, keep singing." Guy said, waving an airy hand.

Francis felt sickened to the core but what could he do? He's on an enormous disadvantage. He took another chance at singing, he barely even have a chance when Guy slashed him diagonally from left to right, making him having a slight difficulty in breathing. Crimson pooled from the cuts and flowed at a steady pace. Soon a pool formed below him, soaking into clothes, sticking them to him.

"If you keep singing wrongly, you'll just end up getting cut off. And I don't want you to die just yet before delivering my song."

Half-blinded by overwhelming pain, Francis attempted another tune. Guy just leaned in and made a long cut. Not enough to kill, but enough to bleed. With V.V. holding him down, he could only thrash around like a fish out of water.

Two more wrong attempts earned him two more cuts, but it was on the next attempt that he had finally managed to get the tune right.

"Oh, well done." Guy said, clapping his hands. "You got the tune right."

"I take it you're not going to let me off on my merry way?"Francis quipped despite several bleeding cuts all over his body.

"As matter of affect, I am. V.V., let's haul him up."   

  

Although he's not bound by hair this time, Guy, despite physically being underage, drove a car that he had 'borrowed', after he had coldcocked the unfortunate owner. V.V., as stiff and silent as a mannequin, sat in the passenger seat. Francis himself was laid on the backseat, bleeding heavily. Guy had said that he's letting him go, but he hadn't said more.

Earlier on while V.V. had stayed with him to make sure he doesn't run, he had went to the local tool shop and came out with a large bag whose contents rattled like dry bones.  He didn't say, just smiled sweetly with madness underneath.

They stopped in front of a place he knew too well. 34th Street . The familiar apartments building, a dull structure of exposed bricks and whitewashed walls. The entrance stood open and welcoming. There are the familiar recycling bins that stood a little to the side. If you go in a little closely, you could see the dull silver mailboxes that are numbered to each apartments accordingly. Could it really be that simple?

"Here we are, as promised." Guy said with false cheeriness.

But it seemed so. Shaking his head slightly, Francis opened the door and stumbled out to the sidewalk, breathing in the cool air. Sweet freedom.

Guy had also came out, holding the large bag that he had bought earlier. Now, his hair became long tentacles and bind him around the waist.

"What's this?"

"I'm brought you back as promised." Guy said, smiling.

"You double-cross backstabber!" Francis yelled.

"I kept my word, didn't I? Now zip that mouth of yours or I might end up cutting your tongue." He said it all in a casual tone as though it's as natural as going to the supermarket. It's enough to render him silent.

Humming between his teeth, Guy reached into the bag and brought out, of all things, two wooden stakes. But these aren't the types that Glenn normally used to stake vampires, these look as long as the length of his forearm and just as wide. 

"What are you going to do?"

In answer, part of Guy's hair turned into a large cylindrical object. A mallet.

With the wooden stakes in hand, realization dawned on him, sending fear running like electric along his spine. Oh no. No. NO!

"You can't be serious!" Francis yelled.

Guy's smile became more twisted. "Oh, but I am. Killing you would be too merciful."

"Then kill me now."

"No."

"KILL ME!!!"     

"And end your suffering?" Guy's hair slammed him onto the top of the building entrance, knocking the fight out off him. The impact also caused some of his bones to crack. "I don't think so." Using his hair, he pushed himself off the ground slowly so that he's on level ground with him. A long strand of red trailed behind him, supporting him like a giant serpent. Some of it wrapped around his arms, forcing them open so that his position resembles a crucifix. He placed one wooden stake near the centre of his palm and said, "Remember what I said about running low on anaesthesia? Sorry about that."

"YOU-"

The mallet slammed through the palm of his hand like knife through butter, sending gore and flesh spilling. Enough to start the screaming of a tortured soul.

Taking Advantage One's Kindness

And there I turned as one who may well pause -

all swagger, in his sudden panic, gone - 

to peep at what he really ought to flee,

yet, glimpsing this, does not delay his parting.

I saw there, right behind us, this black demon  

running the ridge around in our direction.

- Canto 21, Inferno, Dante Alighieri

12th December (Saturday) - Today is a special date, well, not really. Previously when I was training as a student in the post natal department, on 2012, it was a joyous day, we got 16 babies born on 12/12/2012 (Hello babies :D)
Okay, where was I when I sidetracked? Oh yes, well, today is the 12th of 12th. I'm not helping my boss today cause my other colleague - We're all close buddies, almost like family now, so I'll say friend - is on leave. Everyone knows by now, when my other two friends are around, I help my boss, when one of us is on leave, someone else will take care of him in my place. The person who is taking care of him is a girl whom I know, so I feel a little relieved. Although many complaint that she's not efficient enough, I trust her. First, she takes care of my place well. Second, she doesn't simply trash my things into the rubbish bin, and third, whenever there's any updates, she lets me know by putting notes for me so that I know beforehand.
Anyhow, today is just like any other day, you know. Dressings, sutures to off, the occasion injections, stuff like that. Today is a little silent because many of our doctors are on leave except for some. So we sat at the counter, praying hard our regulars come back for their dressings. Then this guy turned up at our counter, insisting  out of nowhere for our new registration girl's number. I had a vague feeling that I've seen him before. Sensing something amiss, I hurried to one of my friend's clinic and found out that he's the one they had been warning me about from the first day I came here. Of course. Now I remember him! He's a guy who had once tried to come to my clinic, and because I felt something shifty going on, I ran into my boss's room and sat there, in case he tried anything funny with me. True enough, when he saw my boss's face - His face is really scary, the no-nonsense type for anyone who don't know him - he immediately left.
Now where was I? Oh yes, back to present day, he's hovering near our registration girl for her number. Of course, anyone with sense enough knows to never ever give your number to strangers. So she flatly refused. This does not stop him, who he keep pushing til our cashier brother (we call him brother in our native tongue) covered her by giving a fake number. That done. He started asking her questions about her social life. Of course, our girl was innocent and still new, so she gave him some of her attention. Big mistake. After finding out she's young, single and pretty (She is, with that flawless alabaster skin and raven hair cut into a neat bob and those wide doe eyes), he started pestering her for her hand in marriage.
WAIT. WHAT?!!!!
Of course, this is utter nonsense. My friend and I immediately tried to send him on his way in a kind manner as possible. Oh no. It did not work. He ignored us and kept declaring loudly for our registration girl to marry him, much to her embarrassment since there were many patients waiting outside the clinic. So the poor girl tried to sidetrack by saying she's engaged, and his answer, "I will kill your fiancee and then marry you." Oh no no no no no. This made my friend mad enough that she put her feet down threatening to call our manager and he immediately left, but not before declaring to everyone that she's his wife. Oh God, what on earth just happened? The poor girl was so frightened by the whole ordeal that she was nearly in tears to the point where we comforted her. Turns out he's a child with special needs, but he's not exactly like those who can't think, but he can. He can speak English fluently, think for himself and is able to find a steady job for his future. Sadly, he knew he has special needs, but he took advantage of our kindness. You see, when we take pity on him and gave him our attention, he follows us to the point of stalking til you feel terrified. My friend told me previously he came to our department for two other girls, one who is already married!!! Oh, he's clever as well. When her hubby is with her, he hovered far away, but when he's out, he comes and demands her to leave him to marry him. This also makes her frightened til she ran to her boss, who was angry and chased him away. Oh my goodness, thank God it didn't happened to me, but it could've if I wasn't careful.
I'm not saying that we should be treating him unkindly, but because he takes advantage of our kindness, it's very hard for us to feel pity on him. But if this keeps carrying on, I'm afraid that our patience and tolerance might wear thin and we will report to our manager. But for now, I'm going to keep an eye out and pray that he don't come to our department and cause a lot of fuss.

NOTE: Sorry for the late post, but the past few days had been crazy til I'm tired out.  

Merry Christmas

Confessions

9th December (Wednesday) - Whenever people feel down, we tend to do something to make us feel better. I once read an article about a company CEO who confessed that whenever he's feeling low, he takes out his collection of antique wooden soldiers and played with them as though he's a kid again. I got a friend who folds a hundred stars and throw them into a jar, to be emptied later, which she says carries the bad things, hence the throwing part. I also got a friend who enjoys watching Tom and Jerry for laughs.
For me, it's reading children books. I still have my old Enid Blyton collection with me. First editions with cream paper that you can't get anymore. I had them for more than 10 years, and they're still in good condition, just old with age. My dad had once tried to donate them and I nearly blew a coronary. For one thing, it's a collection that I spent so hard to collect them all. Second, whenever I feel down, I just randomly grab any of the titles and started reading. You'll be very surprised how effective it is. The books hold many memories. It was what motivated me to start reading. J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter came second because those days, to get a Harry Potter book is too expensive. One would cost MYR 100++. Enid Blyton costs MYR 9.99, and that time, my dad wasn't keen on spending over hundred for a 200 page book. It was only when I became a total bookworm that he finally got me my first ever Harry Potter paperback, Goblet of Fire. It was the book that I brought with me everyday in my little bag, at school, in the supermarket, in the cafe, everywhere. I couldn't bear to bring my Enid Blyton because I don't want people snatching it from me when I'm reading. Those days, Harry Potter is well known, but no one was going to snatch it from me because most people said that Harry Potter was associated to sorcery and witchcraft. It was also because of these two I was inspired to write a story of my own.
Believe it or not, my first ever story was a fanfiction. No, I did not publish it on fanfiction.com, I was a technophobe at that time and had no Internet access (Unless I go to my friend's house). The fanfiction is someday what will become a story that I had finally self-published (Check out the Books Written By Me section). And the characters: A mixture of Naruto and Final Fantasy. Throughout the years, the personality of the characters had faithfully stayed the same until I finally swapped the characters with my own original characters. I still have the original story, written in pencil, single lined exercise books and those little square books that you use for Mathematics. Although the pencil had faded a little but it's still legible to be read. And there were tons of illustrations, again in pencil. God knows whether my drawing had improved or not.
I'm a chicken, in fact. I really, really dislike horror stories. Not Goosebumps, I adore Goosebumps, the horror is tame enough, but really scary ones like Saw, Scream, Child's Play, the really, really scary ones that often had people getting killed in the most gruesome way and that gives you nightmares. I still can't get over that fear. But my first ever debut was (surprise, surprise) a horror novel. Personally, I don't even think of it as a horror novel. It's basically an action, adventure comedy with demons and the supernatural thrown into the mix (Aha, I think all of you know what I'm talking about ;D) But it got stumped into horror because of the demons. Before it was self-published, I used to post it up on another blogspot as a free reading material. The story stays largely the same, with a few edits and some bad grammars. But feel free to check it out if you have the time.
In a way, looking back, it has been a long journey. I got two books in a print-on-demand sites and I got a job that I enjoy doing, even though people sometimes gives me funny looks when I mention my profession. Well, I guess it's because nursing is still not as popular as doctors, but hopefully with everything advancing forward, the profession will have a chance to shine.
With year end coming soon, there are tons of things that I still need to do on my mental checklist. But for now I'm taking things slow, baby steps, as my psychiatrist tells me. It's just a shame that I wasn't able to fulfill my third book deadline goal, but I will definitely, definitely (zettai ni) finish it when the time is right. Lloyd will never forgive me if I make his story one hell of a rollercoaster ride.
And a big Happy Birthday to my sister. May your wishes be granted.

*As a little bonus for laughs, check out this Hunger Game spoof. It's hilarious, trust me, whenever you're feeling down, just watch it. It's guaranteed to put a smile on your face.

As you can see, my book is already old, but still in okay condition.

My Enid Blyton collection. Part of it. There are more, but they are all stacked behind.