One of the longest staying patients in the ward was admitted for a left intertrochanteric fracture some time ago last month. Technically speaking, he had been here longer than me! He got transferred to a community hospital for step-down care and rehabilitation, this morning. Well, that's a good thing for him. There he is probably going to have more opportunities and space for physiotherapy.
Mr. W is a very cheerful man, easy to get along with and fun to talk to. He is in his golden years now, seldom wishes to make life difficult for those who take care of him. His needs are very simple. He would ask politely whenever he required assistance of any kind. The type of person who is happy, not lacking much though is without wealth.
Maybe it is due to the substantial amounts of medicine he takes, the weeks spent basically bed-bounded, or other underlying medical factors; Mr. W tends to experience sudden drops in his blood pressure from time to time. During such times he would verbalise his giddiness and express difficulty in remaining seated upright. Apart from that, he has pain and weakness in his left hip. So we had to be careful, sensitive to it. This is Mr. W- one of the petients with whom I had more contact and spent more time together, since he was in the cubicle assigned to me. The happy and simple man who goes through occasions of spinning in the head or pain in the hip.
Well, Mr. W got transferred this morning. He cried several times upon packing. (though I was the one packing his stuff)
In all my days posted to the ward I have never seen the man cried, not once. He was always the kind who asks for a favour, you give it to him and he expresses his gratitude simply. A satisfied man who is thankful, but never overly involved emotionally. Just smiling, more than enough for the staff to know he wassn't a man who takes advantage of others.
When he cried today, I was surprised and touched. Then in a corner not too far away within the cubicle, I began to shed tears myself. In the midst of the wishes and goodbyes for Mr. W, as well as sounds of coughing from the other beds as usual.
Mr. W's days in this ward were certainly happy ones, because of the care he received here from its wonderful staff. Doctors, nurses, cleaners, everyone. I am glad to have confidence to claim that I too have made a fair bit of contribution to his pleasant stay here. In the same way, Mr. W definitely played a significant role in my days here too.
I guess he had grown attached to the ward staff taking care of him; I guess I had grown attached to him over the days spent together. Caring for people who are likely incapable of returning favours, does something to you. It builds you up, it shapes character. And it might also mean nurturing affiliation, because you definitely need to love in order to care for such people. So I guess you need to become vulnerable too.
I guess I had grown attached to one or two of the men I took care of.
Shed tears on a clinical posting for the first time.
This reflective writing is dedicated to the speedy recovery of Mr. W.
Mr. W is a very cheerful man, easy to get along with and fun to talk to. He is in his golden years now, seldom wishes to make life difficult for those who take care of him. His needs are very simple. He would ask politely whenever he required assistance of any kind. The type of person who is happy, not lacking much though is without wealth.
Maybe it is due to the substantial amounts of medicine he takes, the weeks spent basically bed-bounded, or other underlying medical factors; Mr. W tends to experience sudden drops in his blood pressure from time to time. During such times he would verbalise his giddiness and express difficulty in remaining seated upright. Apart from that, he has pain and weakness in his left hip. So we had to be careful, sensitive to it. This is Mr. W- one of the petients with whom I had more contact and spent more time together, since he was in the cubicle assigned to me. The happy and simple man who goes through occasions of spinning in the head or pain in the hip.
Well, Mr. W got transferred this morning. He cried several times upon packing. (though I was the one packing his stuff)
In all my days posted to the ward I have never seen the man cried, not once. He was always the kind who asks for a favour, you give it to him and he expresses his gratitude simply. A satisfied man who is thankful, but never overly involved emotionally. Just smiling, more than enough for the staff to know he wassn't a man who takes advantage of others.
When he cried today, I was surprised and touched. Then in a corner not too far away within the cubicle, I began to shed tears myself. In the midst of the wishes and goodbyes for Mr. W, as well as sounds of coughing from the other beds as usual.
Mr. W's days in this ward were certainly happy ones, because of the care he received here from its wonderful staff. Doctors, nurses, cleaners, everyone. I am glad to have confidence to claim that I too have made a fair bit of contribution to his pleasant stay here. In the same way, Mr. W definitely played a significant role in my days here too.
I guess he had grown attached to the ward staff taking care of him; I guess I had grown attached to him over the days spent together. Caring for people who are likely incapable of returning favours, does something to you. It builds you up, it shapes character. And it might also mean nurturing affiliation, because you definitely need to love in order to care for such people. So I guess you need to become vulnerable too.
I guess I had grown attached to one or two of the men I took care of.
Shed tears on a clinical posting for the first time.
This reflective writing is dedicated to the speedy recovery of Mr. W.
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