Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Twisted


There must be something really wrong with someone who thinks it's alright to pay for sex, trying to justify the act as some sort of perverted charity work, but chooses to ignore that 5 year old kid knocking at his cars window shield, trying to sell him some flowers at 11 PM.

I used to keep myself from giving money from beggars because if people continued to give them money, they won't get the initiative to get jobs, they'd forever rely on begging. And that kid, who may even be less than five year old wasn't begging. He was working. At 11:00 in the evening. And i just drove away, even a little annoyed.

What the hell has happened to me?! I wasn't always this... cold.

I may not be religious, but I always thought that deep inside, I am a good person. But for the past months, something has changed. Maybe it's being exposed to a huge number of less fortunate people--- you have to learn to ignore them, you must not show pity, with the risk of getting bankrupt. Maybe it's having days without sleep and food, that you begin to get cranky and you can't help but shout at all these people constantly asking for your help, even if for the simplest things... without realizing that they're asking for your help because you are the only one around who can actually help them.

These past few days, I've been tempted to go back to PGH. Maybe I just miss the work, the people I work with. Maybe it's because after consecutive nights of going out and trying to live my life to the fullest, I've discovered that there's nothing else to do. Maybe it's the simple fact that I have no work yet that I've been craving for the abuse that my body got used to. And I've discovered the remedy to eliminate such thoughts--- I'd just simply think of the things I hated about the place, and the urges disappear in an instant.

I don't understand why we have to fight with the anesthesiologists and operating room nurses even at those times that they're the ones who are clearly right. Many times, all surgeons think about is getting the patients inside the operating room no matter what. Maybe some consultants are at fault here, pressuring the residents to meet certain quotas. I don't understand why we always run out of supplies, why we keep on shelling out for our patients needs, when clearly there are funds for hospital operations, exemplified by the numerous renovations. Why can't they allocate funds properly? Why do our seniors expect us to do unrealistic tasks and produce certain needs in an instant, when they were first year residents not so long ago, and I'm sure they are aware of how unrealistic their demands are? Why is the service in the private divisions just as lousy as the service they give the charity divisions, when these patients are actually paying for their service? Why does it entail so much work to do simple tasks like getting blood for patients, getting an x-ray, CT scan, or several lab work ups done? Why do we have to practically beg each department head, treat them as Kings and Queens just to get our jobs done? Why all that bureaucracy, what's with all the red tape? Why is the system so fucked up?!

So what if a lot of my peers who are looking for work think it's the hospital of choice for residency in this country? That I shouldn't have given up on such a prized position so easily? That's no reason to come back--- it's like saying I wanted to come back because a lot of people want my job, and not because I really want my job. Maybe they think of it as a very sought after occupation because they haven't actually experienced working in the place.

Every time I regret leaving, I just try to imagine myself working their again, and the things I don't like about the work would show their ugly heads. Sure, it wasn't all bad, but the bad things really eclipse the good things. And as showed by what happened as I was driving around the other night, I don't like what working in the place has tuned me into. I've become cold. Numb. I can only imagine how horrible I'd become if I finished the five year program.

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