On TV Medical Dramas

Ducks on Blue

I hate hos­pi­tals. They bring back bad mem­o­ries. I do have good mem­o­ries of the births of my nephew and niece but the bad mem­o­ries seem to out­weigh good ones. Strange­ly enough, I just can’t stop watch­ing Grey’s Anato­my. It’s not real­ly my most favourite TV show, but it’s up there. I know that in real­i­ty doc­tors don’t real­ly have time to ded­i­cate to a patient’s per­son­al affairs, but in the show they do. I think that’s the rea­son I keep watch­ing. Because unlike the doc­tors who treat­ed my mum at the hos­pi­tal pri­or to her death, the doc­tors in the show care about the patients and their fam­i­lies. And when a patient dies, they don’t tell the fam­i­ly “You did know it was com­ing, right?” like the doc­tor who declared my mum’s death did. They’d say they’re sor­ry and mean every words. For an hour every week, I see doc­tors they way I want­ed the doc­tors who treat­ed my mum to be. Warm and car­ing.

Obvi­ous­ly I still have issues with the cir­cum­stances sur­round­ing my mum’s death. How we couldn’t afford to keep her in the inten­sive care unit. How incom­pe­tent the nurs­es out­side the inten­sive care were. How I had to watch my mum stop breath­ing and die. How when the doc­tor final­ly showed up, it was already too late. How I had to wash my mum’s dead body before her funer­al. How no one gave me a hug. The list of issues could go on and on for­ev­er, I could write a book on it. No won­der I still have night­mares and flash­backs five years lat­er. I should’ve seen a grief coun­sel­lor but there was no such thing in Indone­sia. Not that I knew of any­way. I won­der if it’s too late to see one now. Prob­a­bly is.

Not a hap­py post, but it’s a post. Let’s see if any­one would leave any com­ments. :)

4 comments / Add your comment below

  1. I’m think­ing of going to med school because I’ve grown in love with hos­pi­tals; and I think that to be a doc­tor, one shouldn’t sep­a­rate emo­tion­al care from pro­fes­sion­al work. Both should go togeth­er. Doc­tors shouldn’t treat their patients with indif­fer­ence; they are peo­ple after all. I have no idea how it felt like to see your moth­er breathe her last, but I do know that the doc­tor who treat­ed her could’ve done bet­ter. Thanks for this eye-open­er.

  2. Nev­er too late for ther­a­py. I was see­ing a ther­a­pist for over 2 years talk­ing about my moth­er. Thank God, insur­ance paid! At least half of it.

  3. It’s hon­est­ly not too late — I’m only just start­ing to deal with things, and in many ways still not deal­ing with them at all (I’m with you on the night­mares and flash­backs). In many ways, the tim­ing was so sim­i­lar for both of us that I some­times feel you might be the only per­son on Earth who also under­stands where I am right now.
    If you’re able to find/get/afford (not sure how the sys­tem works in Cana­da) some­one safe and neu­tral to talk to and get help from, do. You know she wouldn’t want you to be suf­fer­ing like this and to get to the place where it’s the hap­py mem­o­ries that win out. xxx

  4. It’s nev­er too late. Grief doesn’t just dry up and blow away in the wind.
    Go see some­one. You owe it to your­self.

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