i woke up so happy today.. i had a wonderful dream. u know sometimes dreams are so real that u think u are living them out (like last time i dreamt i put my file in the cupboard then in real life i really cannot find it. not anywhere. wheah.)

Anyway i dreamt that we were packing to go on a holiday! But i dont know where.. just that we are packing a lot if winter clothes and choosing which sweater is nicer to wear. So many to choose from, it was as if we were in a winterwear shop. Turtle necks, woollen, plaid, u name it, we had it. Keep saying “is this nice?” and “this is nice”. Haha. Dunno how we managed to squeeze everything into our lil bag. Then we began checking for our plane tickets, passports and stuff. AND THEN AS WE WERE ABOUT TO LEAVE THE HOUSE (and i woke in a shock) we went into this room that was pink-wallpapered with flowers, the sun was shining in gently thru the window, casting a warm glow. AND THEN I SAW a pretty white cradle there and u said “wake up Kwa La”. Faintssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

this wk our hospital is offering the lobang of health screening for all staff, and i signed up for the comprehensive one which involves testing for tumor factors, a whole bunch of other blood tests, AIDs, give them my urine and my shit. And i got a flu vaccine. My arm aches. And i got a headache. It was so bad i saw a flash of light as i crawled home. but i dunno if its lightning / someone taking photo of me / i got migraine / i got brain tumor / it was the end of the world. But i think flu vaccines dun cause headaches. More of the fever, chills and body aches isnt it? yes. but i dun even know wt hemisphere i was jabbed with. Ahh. I shld know. Afterall i am the p h a r m a c i s t.

i wanted to say gooooooooodnight, but my head is splitting.

words of comfort
words that cheers
words of safety
words that secure
words of understanding
words that calms
words of peace
words that soothe
words of hope
words that encourage
words of love
words that love.

ever felt scared about the future?

i dont know if i can make it. surrounded by successful ppl. and here i am with my empty head. worse still, an empty heart. no passion in me for this at all. nothing drives me. nothing motivates me. just sit here and get progressively disillusioned. tho my pre-reg is 9mths, it was quoted to be really professionally competent it would take 2 yrs. i feel i'm not gg to make it.

i need to put my head on his chest.

next 2 weeks at cancer centre. the most shiong of this whole training programme. mentally very stressful cos (1) content (2) expectations of the ppl there. i need some exemption. shall i just declare myself crazy.

today i broke the monotony of everyday life. i ate with zq for lunch. and he was telling me of his proj on blogs, and how most of them are complaints. actually this post is not to complain. but, i cant help it. life is TOO MONOTONOUS ALREADY. cant take it. u know, everyday life is NOT life. sometimes just feel like screaming... ahhhhhh... then jump up and down and throw my hands to my side. i dont want to live my life like this, just waiting for time to go by. i want my cottage and my cow with a cowbell and my woolly sheep. sulk.

alarm clock rings at 6.30am. i press snooze. decide wt to wear, or rather, wt NOT to wear so tt my dressing dun clash. i dun really CARE. then i rush out of my house at 6.50am. catch the 7am train. look desperately for a seat. sleep. next thing i know, the sun is shining brightly, and i am buona vista mrt. (that is, if no one steps on my foot as they always do when they rush to get out at cityhall / raffles). then i squeeze up the staff bus. the bunch of ppl there nv sit bus b4. they are damn excited one. gimme a break.

work. work work work. look forward to lunch. go to canteen and lose appetite. eat for the sake of eating. then back to work. work work work. then look at the clock. 5pm. 5.15pm. 5.30pm. 5.45pm. 6pm. 6.15pm. yay. the mrt cycle repeat itself. just that there's like a lucky draw gg on. the see-who-heng-suay-to-stand-in-front-of-the-passenger-who-gets-off-at-
next-stop-or-gets-off-at-pasir-ris -haha. then, i totally concuss again. and sometimes i wake with surprise that i am already in tampines. thank goodness i dont sleep terribly like some ppl do. with their mouths open / leaning all over the place. for goodness sake. there's a technique to sleeping on the mrt. fold ur arms and be still. i only love ppl who look cute when they sleep.

do u know how sad i was, when i woke up at cityhall, and i tot i was on my way home. then i realised its on my way to work. wheahhhhh.

eat dinner. bathe. check my mail. peep at him. peep every 10minutes. wondering how u are. remembering you, remembering your ways, your face, your voice, your glances. your smiles. your delight.

try to do my readings. but most of the time too tired to do so. end up being quite fruitless the most nights. then go to sleep. face the wall and sleep. wubs nose with the pillow.

tmr night, sat and sun will be the pharmacy congress at some swanky hotel. yay! quite excited cos i like gg to hotels. its poshness (no, not hotel 81). its my first congress (cos i nv bothered to attend any when i was in nus), just attend lectures which would hopefully help me gain more knowledge. i seriously have an empty head. or motivate me, help me set my direction in this career. and of course, got free food. and i just need 45min to get there. not like 1.5hrs. whoohoo. and best of all, its free cos my hospital paid. hee. but quite shiong la, i think. weekend burnt.

if u've read till this paragraph, i congratulate u for being so patient to read one of my most boring posts. just random sulks. life's not so bad. just in a gwumpy mood. maybe i shld sleep 6.5hrs everyday instead. i want to be a koala. hug a tree and sleep 22 hrs. whoo hoo.

my classmate wrote in to the Straits Times forum.. just tot to post this here, with Grace's email reply.

As a fresh graduate from the NUS pharmacy cohort 2007, I followed with great interest the recent exchanges in The Straits Times regarding the public's opinion about pharmacists and their roles as played out in hospitals and community pharmacies.

What struck me was that the role of pharmacists is neither well defined nor understood by most.

Unlike other professionals in the health-care field who play more visible roles in our society, such as dentists, nurses and doctors, pharmacists are not seen as playing an evident part in the health-care scene. We are somehow in the picture, but no one's quite sure about what we really do.

Typically the pharmacist's main point of contact with the public is in the course of supplying medicines to them. Little else is known about what goes on behind the counters, from the reception of the prescription to the end point when the patients receive their medication.

As mentioned in the letter, 'Educated public best check on prescriptions' (ST, Oct 1) - 'I doubt if any pharmacists would or should challenge a doctor's prescription' - the common misconception is that pharmacists simply supply medications as directed by the doctors. End of story.

However, in the outpatient pharmacy in hospitals, there is a systematic process which involves pharmacists using their professional judgment, and contacting the doctors about changing a dose or adjusting a treatment to ensure that the public gets the most efficient and cost-effective drugs. Other clinical roles of pharmacists include medication monitoring, patient education, improving patient medication compliance and side-effect profiling. Pharmacists also play active roles in answering doctors prescription queries, and regularly publish updates to keep fellow health-care professionals updated on recent drug developments.

I believe that we, as a profession, have the knowledge and training to make informed decisions about prescribed medications, and it is our responsibility as part of the health-care team to ensure a patient's best interests are always met.

~ michelle tan ~

I've been following the events closely ever since there was news about the Pharmacists' Bill and the separation of prescribing, but I think things have gotten to a point where the comments can sound so ridiculous sometimes.

We can do as many interventions as we want. But precisely because of our Code of Ethics, we cannot put our fellow health professional colleagues in a negative light. Therefore, patients will never know of the interventions we make. One of the comments in the online forum said that out of all the visits he's made to the polyclinic, he did not observe that a single intervention has been made. The public never thinks of what the consequences for everyone would be if we told them of the interventions.

The thing is that we do our interventions so quietly, discretely and unobstrusively that nobody else other than the attending doctor (and the pharm tech or other Drs who see the IMR/Rx), will know. Also sometimes, the "errors" made can be pretty embarrassing for the doctor, esp if it's a spelling mistake with serious consequences (e.g. hydralazine vs hydroxyzine) or for example, a particularly illegible sample of handwriting that no one can read. It's a delicate situation that involves egos, professionalism and rice-bowls.

I don't profess to offer a solution to this problem, but would just like to share how proud I am that someone from our cohort has voiced out concerns regarding this matter. However bad the comments are, I sincerely hope all of us grit our teeth and continue making those interventions every day because as long as we are true to our profession, I believe that one day, people will appreciate us for it.

~ grace chang ~

funny how we all just yearn for a teeny bit of appreciation and recognition for wt we do. how we get some crap script, (sometime so crap tt u think it unnecessary to call them for things like SPELLING ERRORS or changing 'ointment' to 'cream' just cos u dont keep 'ointment'. faints la.) scramble for ph numbers, call & run after the crap dr, get nonchalant replies from them cos firstly u are forced to ask crap qns, get back to the patient by which time they are already fuming and boiling and seething and exploding. thank you have a nice day.

well, all we have to do is just cross our fingers and believe its not a vain hope that one day we will get appreciated. we do get appreciated probably 1 out of 10 times. just sit tight in ur seat for the 9 times ppl think u are crap and not make headlines in the newspapers for 'pharmacist bites off patient's head'. well put, grace- to grit our teeth, and hang on. not the rosy pretty healthcare picture that was portrayed in sch, but welcome to real life, i guess all of us would feel disillusioned at first. and all we hv to do now is strive to make a difference, recognition or not. wheah. and make proud our profession.

*sulks

i need to whine

perhaps its not whine. i need to VENT to shout and scream. things are getting so unreasonable, so unbearable. ahhhhhhhh. have lunch ALSO CANNOT HAVE LUNCH IN PEACE.

here i am, tired, weary, trudging to the kitchen to microwave the spaghetti mama made for me cos the canteen food (1) sucks (2) overpriced (3) i've eaten every single thing and i just feel nauseated by everything. (4) it really sucks. anyway. heating up spaghetti. then this ____ goes "whats that". i say, spaghetti. "whys the smell so strong? u know it smells like vomitus". okay. thats a nice comment. very good. i really feel like eating my lunch now, with that so-apt description. and then she went on and on about why the smell is so strong. cos its not processed cheese u moron. and she kept repeating it smells like VOMITUS!!!!!!! for goodness sake!!!!! I TELL U I WANTED TO TAKE MY SPAGHETTI & THROW IT AT HER FACE.

so so so so so pissed. can u, for goodness sake, even be CIVIL. if i wasnt so sapped of energy i'm sure i would hv screamed and bitten her head off. but she's worked there for probably a thousand years, unlike me, so i just walked away, with her telling her colleagues in chinese 'shen qi le..'. of course, if someone tells u not once, but MANY times tt ur lunch smells like vomitus do u think i can smile. i so wanted to glare at her / give some wonderfully caustic comment. but i didnt. and that took ALOT. anyway it was written ALL OVER MY FACE. (just like xq and the crap she puts up with at work.)

i dont know the point of blogging this. why am i so ruffled by a small event, but i just feel so pissed. papa says why let this spoil my whole day, true, but i cant help it. cos its like so incredibly rude; not even worth being civil to. am i overreacting cos i'm stressed / tired (but i slept 7hrs) / fedup. i dunno. i really dunno.

how to improve myself. to become a "peace-loving creature". i dunno how u do it. were u born peace-loving? so mild, so goodnatured, so even tempered. my church name means 'peace' in Hebrew. Jesus is known as the 'Prince of Peace'. everyday, i pray for peace.

may my heart feel settled.

and... it shall be called Providence.

victim of circumstance, we all are.

gek-sim. So much angst in me. Perhaps its just all the latent unhappiness and pent-up frustrations that decided to manifest itself. Simply put, quite a sucky day at work. Had to control my tears so much. Sometimes i wonder, if i am in the wrong profession. I feel so inadequate everyday, so dumb. There's too much to know, too much to learn, too much to remember. I shld hv done mass comm and be a newscaster. Or be a rock star.

I'm sick of the concrete. The busyness. Everywhere, everyday, there is no peace, just rush rush rush. I rush to work. I rush during work. I get caught in a rush on the way home. I rush my readings at night. There is no peace. Just take a look around at the people on the train. Weary faces, faces of reluctance to go to work, faces lined with a load of care. I have become that face. Why has my heart become like stone. Like the Warm Soft Cake yeeng and i ate at starbucks, that became hard after a whole day of sitting on the shelf. I am afraid of changing into someone else, and u will not love me anymore.

A flower in a pot is different from a flower in the field. Feel so misplaced in the city. Its really true tt childhood and formative yrs hv a huge impact on ur life. I think i'm not a city girl. Like how i went hongkong and was appalled by the life there – taller buildings, worse traffic, even more grumpy and rude ppl, and totally poor quality of life. Ok perhaps thats an unfair statement. But being in chim-cha-chuay or smth for just 3 days gave me tat claustrophobic feeling. Cannot breathe.

Why are we held back from the things we want to do? Will we live life in regrets, wishing we had gone for that overseas masters, for that overseas job. The decision lies in our hands. I salute those who had the courage and maturity to chose.

If you really had your way, what would u do? Would ur life have changed? We all have hopes, dreams and wishes. But some, will remain dreams. Figments of our imagination. If i had my way in life, i would live in a cottage far away from this mad dash of concrete. My cottage would be white with a thatched roof, situated in a lovely woodgrove with a nearby rippling brook. we could have picnics there. You would have to walk along a pebbled path, past my beds of roses and what-ever-have-u-many-many-flowers that sweetens the air with a gentle fragrance. Lil birds will suddenly appear, everytime, u are near. I'll hv a wooden oak door with a huge brass knocker with honey suckle and climbing roses gently it. My pretty wallpapered rooms would be furnished with feather beds will be ready for yeeng to visit, with patchwork quilts and a bear sitting at the head of the bed. Every morning i would throw open the frosted windows and breath in the crisp air. I'll look at the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and see the sun splay its rays to gently wake up the earth. Slowly my flowers would rouse, opening their happy petals welcoming the brand new day.

In the winter i would sit beside my fireplace, with its crackling cones, cosy in its warm glow and drink hot soup. In the spring my vegetable garden would be brimming with abundance, and i would sell my fresh produce in baskets lined with gingham. In the summer i would stroll in the orchards in my white summer dress, smelling the sweetness of the apples and pears, dance in the fields and gather flowers. In autumn i would make leaf piles and throw them into the air; a flutter of reds, yellows and golds, drifting gently to the leaf-strewn ground. My hands would be stained purple with juice from wild raspberries and blueberries. Okay i'll need an apron too. And i would bake cakes, make pies, tarts, apple strudel. Roast chicken, beef stew, mash potatoes, baked potatoes, grilled tomatoes, buttered peas and have cheese everyday. And keep a sheep. A nice woolly sheep that goes meahhhh. And in the evenings we would stroll along the lakeside, watching its sparkling waters, feeding swans and ducks with crusts of bread. And the sun would set behind us, everyday, a lovely day, and we would bid goodnight.