In Hospital, We Are United..

I just got back from HTAR Klang. Me, baba, mama, ain and along went to see Pak Ngah Jalil in ICU today this evening. He was admitted yesterday. After finish reciting Yasin, I walk around to see the condition of other patients. I was touched to see many of young doctors (majority are from University Malaya) struggle so hard in keeping their fingers to the patient needed.

It turn out to be a Chinese doctor, interviewing one Malay patient, asking about its background, personal information. He encouraged this old man to get well soon, and perceivably care about this old man’s life. On different occasion, I saw a group of Malay doctors with nurse, joking about something.

I would like to say something, but doesn’t mean I didn’t understand doctor’s job. Of course we know that some of them are tired and bored with everyday routine being a doctor or nurse. They somehow need this joke or maybe to have some chat with friends. But sometimes they must fit the situation on where are they, when or maybe with whom they are dealing with.

These people are dying. I suppose they are waiting for the call to meet the God. With just one kind sense, atleast, they should not be in a way they are, joking and making fun infront of these patients. Some of them even laugh and texting. What kind of people is this?

Hospital – a place that needs silence and concerntration on part of the doctors and the visitors. Should I mention that here? No. When daddy is whispering “something”, a couple of Syahadah to Pak Ngah, the doctors asked him to go out. Do have feelings toward this dying man. He needs his family besides him, with Syahadah and Yasin whispered to his ears (the least that we can do at this moment).

I was so upset and couldn’t understand what are these doctors want in their very life. They are not sensitive at all. Perhaps they will if the same thing happened to their family. I saw the room were filled up with many set of medical instrument. I must say the Indian and the Malays were among of hundred of patient being treated in that room.

But most of the doctors are Chinese. We know how hard the Chinese boy, wearing a tagname of University Malaya, got into this job. And we know that they are the bestest among the best elected to persue medical study in University Malaya. They struggled so hard to place themselves, constantly scored their SPM or STPM.

They never went to Manchester Medical College because they have no money. A group of Malay doctors looming around making fun with their friends are so lucky to be there. But they didn’t “feel” the job like this young Chinese doctor feels it. “Langsung tidak ada budi bahasa.”

In hospital, we never measure our skin colour. We ignore our religious background. We set aside our political based ideology. We are here to help other person’s life. We want them to wake up and get well soon, so they would be able to walk and run like other people does. We never put the race remark and select which patient should be considered first according to their race background. That is why hospitals are special.

I must say that this is a wake up call for us, as Malay and Bumiputra to appreciate what we have in this blissful country. We must wake up, and perhaps to learn from our opposite race friends. When our political leaders outside there fighting for the survival of their race, isu azan lah, ketuanan melayu lah, isu hak istimewa lah, “ethnic cleansing” lah, fatwa lah, we are here to fix the damages caused by them.

Pak Ngah passed away at 6.25 pm. May Allah’s peace be with him.

Filed under: Bicara Penulis