Horrible Doctor!

God forgive me for having murderous intentions against my new doctor in Jurong Point.

Why are doctors nowadays so smart and so unsympathetic?


So what triggered my angsty diatribe against doctors? A mean doctor (henceforth nickednamed “Mr. Toe”) did it.

I was in Bintan a few days back and I hurt my toe. To be specific, I kicked a stone step and my toe nail (the one on the biggest toe, no less) came off. The toe nail was dangling from bits of skin on the edges of my toe and blood dribbled all over. You can imagine the sight and the pain…

Bo pian, stuck in Bintan what to do? Somemore I had a snorkeling trip lined up. So I bandaged it up as well as I could and went snorkeling. Sea water is good for wounds isn’t it?

My bravado lasted only one day thanks to my friend, C.

She pointedly looked at my toe and said “You know, I had a friend who once had this rice grain stuck in an open wound in her gums. The wound healed over the rice grain and she didn’t know. Then she started getting massive toothache. After a long time, they finally realized that the rice grain was rotting in her gum and she had to have an operation to get it out. You know? I also had this scab on my knee once. I didn’t pull out the dead skin and the wound closed over the scab. The old dead skin was rotting beneath the new skin. I had to have an incision to remove it.”

My overactive imagination went into overdrive mode. Memories of news stories about flesh eating bacteria found in soil and sea creatures causing sure-death infections tormented me. The oddity of having one less toe on my foot aroused in me a curious affection for all my toes --- something I’ve never felt before.

So when I got back to Singapore, the first thing I did after depositing my luggage was to look for a doctor.

And for all my bad fortune, I had to meet the mean doctor – hence forth known as Mr. Toe.

The nightmare started the moment I entered the clinic.

“My toe nail fell off in Bintan. I tried to bandage it but I’m scared there would be some infection.”

I proceeded to gently tug off the bandage on my poor toe.

Mr. Toe swept my futile attempts away. Swooped down and he tore off the bandage as if he was tearing open the wrappers of his X’mas presents. Ouch.

After just a glance, the learned doctor said “I can’t do anything for you.”

Huh? What does he mean?

ME: “So is it okay? Is there any infection? Cos I went snorkeling you know?”

DOC: “Well, you shouldn’t have.” (said in a cool, ya ya papaya tone)

DOC: “I will give you some antibiotics and cream to apply on it.” (said in a “I’m done with you” tone, pls get out of here now, I’m dying to go home tone).

ME: “Huh? You mean that’s all? I mean, I buang my toe quite badly and it is now sengat (displaced to one side). Would it (the toe) grow out sengat next time?” (said in a very Singaporean kan jiong tone)

DOC: “Hmmm. You can always get a pedicure for that you know?” (said in a sarcastic matter of fact tone)

ME to myself: WTF? I paid $28 of consultation fee for you to tell me that I can get it fixed by a pedicurist? Very pain you know, my poor toe. Plus this is the first time I’ve ever buang my toe so badly that the nail was torn off… very unsympathetic doc lei!

ME: So how can you tell that my toe is alright now and the medication will work? Do I need an injection to prevent infection?

DOC: I told you, there’s nothing I can do for you.

ME: HUH? Waddya mean there’s nothing you can do for me?

DOC: (speaking slowly as if to a retard) There are three possible outcomes. One, this is a minor injury and your toe heals without problems. Two, there’s an infection because you went swimming. So I’ll give you antibiotics. Three, there’s a hairline fracture. However, if there’s a hairline fracture, there’s nothing I can do for you. Because you need to have an x-ray to see if there’s a hairline fracture. And even if there’s indeed a hairline fracture, you need to have an operation to insert a rod into the toe. I don’t think you want to insert a rod into your toe.

ME: Need surgery? (sickened)

DOC: Like I said, there’s nothing I can do and I don’t think you want to insert a rod into your toe.

ME: So what are the symptoms so I know I need to have a surgery? I mean, what will be the consequences?

DOC: Like I said, there are three outcomes and I don’t think you want to go for a surgery.

ME: So how do I know if I have recovered well?

DOC: I won’t know unless you go for a X-ray scan and there’s nothing I can do for you on that.

ME: Okay, just gimme my medication. (FED UP).

BOOOOOOO! Went out of the clinic feeling like I've been cheated of my money and made fun of and trivalised by an arrogant and cocky doctor. Will never go back there again and will tell all my friends not to visit this doctor.

I miss my old doctor!

China Chinese vs the Singaporean Chinese Stomper

It was an AFC match between SAFFC and a China soccer team and the animosity was sizzling hot.

"I hate Chinese" said a Singaporean Chinese queuing in front of me. Haiz, Chinese hate Chinese. So sad. Can't the world have more loving and less hating?

Just as I was waxing lyrical over love & peace ala John Lennon - An ah tiong cut my queue.

And that's that. I went berserk.

All's fair in love, war & queues.

Unconsciously I whipped out my camera phone. "I must stomp the idiot Ah Tiong!"

At that moment, I'm no longer rational, nor am I just Chinese. I'm Singaporean Chinese and like the Singaporean Chinese in front of me, I'm deeply ashamed to be remotely associated to the Ah Tiong queue cutter, race and all.

I felt an insatiable desire to shame him --- this audacious PRC queue cutter. But just as I was going to take the picture, something in me snapped. No, I cannot behave like a whiney, compliant Singaporean. These PRCs are tough and I must defend my rights myself and not by complaining to the gahmen/press.

So, I turned to him, tapped him on the shoulders and said... "You must queue" (in mandarin lah). I felt pleased with myself for having the courage to speak up and confront the man instead of stomping him and seething away in virtual annonymity. Then the man did the unthinkable.

He went to cut my boyfriend's queue.

I almost whipped out the phone again.

At that moment, I kinda understood Stomp's appeal for Singaporeans. My general frustration with foreigners who come here and behave badly was stirred up by this queue cutting Ah Tiong. This frustration has been shared by many other Singaporeans who have also stomped, complained and written to the gahmen and the press on the same matter. But the problem just kept getting worse and there seemed to be no avenues for recourse. I feel as if my country has been invaded by foreign workers and as a Singaporean (muzzled, censored), I can only stand still with both hands tied and mouth gagged while the yellow tide reduces my home to their common spittoon.

Deep in my consciousness, stomping this act was a way for me to add to the increasing number of documentary evidences of how unpleasant life is becoming with these foreign invaders. Why? Why isn't something being done? Why? Why does the economic objective of keeping labour costs competitive warrant such unpleasantness? Why aren't our views taken into consideration?

At work I received resumes from Indian nationals with MBAs (mostly from dubious private institutions) offering to work in any positions for as low as SGD$2,000 a month. Coming back from work, I battle hordes of Indians, Burmese, PRCs at Boon Lay MRT station. While taking rides in the MRT trains, I cringe from the many loud PRC voices and Burmese voices chattering loudly on the phone. Upon reaching my flat, I am greeted by the sight of a NTUC fairprice trolley parked infront of my Burmese neighbour's flat.

The mentality of coming to Singapore, getting rich fast and getting out quick irks me. Even if you shame these migrants, they wouldn't give a damn. This is just a money pot to them and manners or Singapore be damned to them.

Unhappy thoughts.

That day I cheered lustily for SAFFC. I cheered my guts out when we scored. I fell when that last minute goal was conceded. And when the match ended, passions were so high there were loud cheers for SAFFC and for Duric. We needed a win badly to temper our angst against the PRCs but seeing the SAFFC team tried their best to hold on to their lead makes me think --- at least we held our own.

The height of kitchen Shelves...

Short = low kitchen sink?

My family is made up of hobbits lah. All of us are under 1.6m (including papa).



So I didn't quite realized that our kitchen sink is rather low until my bF pointed it out.

We were cooking, then he was helping me wash the dishes.

Suddenly, he was like... eh... very 辛苦, your kitchen sink is very low.

Then I realized he was bending over to wash the dishes.

I was about to be nice and ask him to stop washing etc. etc. but he started laughing at me, called me a hobbit etc.

So... TOO BAD... i made him wash all the dishes.

Kinda makes you think... what's the norm range of height among females?

So I die die must custom-made my furnishing next time lah since I'm ahem... hobbit like.

The Perils of the Petite on the MRT

Pek chek!

I live in boonlay & travel to paya lebar for work everyday. You can imagine the substantial amount of time i spend on the MRT everyday. Everyday i have to confront a MRT cabin full of people packed butt to butt (hardly sexy). Given my small stature, i often end up smelling armpits on the crowded train! Brrrrr!

Totally concur with the view that Singapore is way too crowded. It wasn't so crowded a few yrs back.

Besides poor ventilation these are the problems i face when taking the MRT train:

Given my height, I usually try to hold on to the holding poles rather than the handrails. It is very tiring to extend your arm all the way from boon lay to paya lebar. When the train is crowded, inconsiderate people (tall, burly men included!) hold on to the hand rails, leaving me with nothing to grab (don't think dirty). I wish I can reach the handbars overhead!

The holding poles are problematic too. This is especially so because of my height. Let me explain, I instinctively hold on to the pole at a position which also happens to be the average height where men's butt are. Somehow, some people often like to lean their big fat & flat lazy butts on the poles. Maciam your butt very comfy against my hand lah? Nice cushion lah? Super disgusting, I feel like slapping them. Can't even scream molest since it is my hand on their butts. Have to aim somewhere higher around their necks where there's a tiny gap for me to grab on to the pole.

The next big hazard... Foreign workers. Maciam treat this like their own country liddat. Just because I'm small doesn't mean they can shove me around. I ever had this bangladesh shove me on the train at City Hall. Any by shove, i didn't mean just push, he wrapped his whole bloody hand around my waist and pulled me out of the way. I felt so violated!I just hit his hand away and pointed at him... "Stop, don't push."

They don't just push to get on trains. They also push to get on Escalators (esp. around jurong point). It is so dangerous! So I've learnt to walk with my elbows at 90 degrees. and I make sure that my intention to elbow them if they push me is plain to see. Sometimes i don't know if they are rushing for time; they are used to doing so; or they are trying to molest me.

Once, this bangla placed his hand on my hand while on the escalator. I had my hand happily on the escalator handrails, he was one step behind me and he had to reach all the way infront to place his hand on my hand?! I just lost it after being molested for the 3rd time in Jurong Point that day. I slapped his hand away. turned and in full view of everyone said "No touching. You understand? Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me." I was so hot, my sister had to stop me and she gave that bangla a cold hard stare. After that we quickly walked home, mobile in hand, in case that guy stalked us.

Totally understand how the folks in Serangoon are reacting to the hostel thingy. U want to be nice and say be nice to foreign workers, be tolerant... but sometimes, you really can't tell if they are just like that because of their cultural background or they are trying to take advantage of you. Most likely, a mixture of both. And if somebody is trying to take advantage of you, how can you react nicely to him?

I understand that their streets are daily moshpits, but please don't bring your cultural practices to my country. I can share my air, suffer lower pay (in the name of better economic allocation as the gahmen would have me believe), put up with the mess they leave around boonlay station, SAVE, living with their constant infringment on my personal space! DON'T PUSH ME! Grrr.

They aren't the only pissy people i encounter daily on the train...

On monday... i encountered three giggly foreign language students (2 PRCs & 1 burmese/viet). Sweet young things they are. First, they cut my queue while i was waiting for the train. They rushed in (literally) and scrambled for seats. They could only chope a joint two seater... so happily all three of them crammed into the two seats, spilling out here and there into other people's spaces. Then they proceeded to giggle and practice their English lesson for the whole cabin to hear. Those who could be bothered glared at them the entire way.

Where do these people come from?! Mars?

K... I digressed.... back to my point:

The public transport isn't friendly anymore... just going home feels like a stressful event.
And I worry constantly of getting molested. If I elbow people who 'bump against me' or glare at people who mosh me on escalators, i worry about being labelled a racist bitch.

Why can't they give us more train spaces? More frequent trains? Lower handrails? I know this won't solve the problem. Habits are hard to break but at least with more train spaces there's air to breathe (untainted by smelly breaths & B.O. & horrible armpits). There's space to escape...

And don't ask me to drive... I don't want to get started on THAT.

I made... Spaghetti!