"Doctor, do you remember me?" Someone held me back.
He was a middle age spectacled gentleman in songkok and white collar long shirt. Well kempt, spoke fluent English. I couldn't recall who he was.
"I am A. I feel much better now. I can eat well. Thanks a lot, doctor..." He continued.
Oh, I remembered. The acute on chronic renal failing patient who presented uraemic symptoms. He wasn't friendly initially (Who will during uraemia with lousy feeling?) and refused to answer questions. I admitted him, reviewed daily, poked him umpteen times for blood taking, stab peritoneal dialysis and stitching.
"Good to hear. You look much better now that I couldn't even recognize you ." I said.
His serum creatinine has gone down from more than 700 to 238umol/L. Biding him goodbye, he waved and uttered a few more "thank you" before I walked away with a big smile, feeling contented.
At times I would compare housemanship as slavery. It is the gratitudes that still making it a worth pursue.
"Thank you", a simple yet powerful word that cheers up days, making one feels special and appreciated.
Somethings I treasure...
Fresh bouquet from a long-stayed-survivor.
A thank you card and cookies from the family of a deceased patient in Gynae ward, even after failed resuscitation.
Lastly, an appreciation from someone I would remember, the family of a late strong Paeds oncology fighter.
Thank you patients! You've showed in all forms that my works and efforts did not go unappreciated at least.
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