Kids are the real drama queens

On my way out of the ward, I heard my patient screamed in agony. It was from the first cubicle where it housed Amanda and Iqhwan, and the scream was that of an anguished boy.

It must be Iqhwan. He's a stoic kid who wouldn't talk to us and always had a lot of one ringgit bills with him. Yesterday he had all his one ringgit bills on the bed and turned it into a funny bedsheet.

He had liver injury grade V from a domestic injury about two weeks ago and we just off his analgesic. Was he in pain? Or worse, did he fall and his liver bled again?

I walked steadily towards him. I saw the boy crouching on the floor near the edge of his bed, screaming like the world ending. And I saw his mother sitting cross legged on the bed, looking at him with nothingness in her eyes. Ah.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's angry that his KFC is still on the way."

He was noisy. I told him to stop screaming. He kept on screaming. I pulled out a one ringgit bill from my nametag and told him

"If you stop screaming I'll give you this."

On second thought, they're not playthings, aren't they?

I like kids a lot. The second thing to that that I like is rough-housing them. And for that reason, I like tougher kids better. With fragile-looking kids especially girly girls, I will just smile from afar and gently pinch their cheeks because they're too fragile for anything else.

And because of that, I hope to have two boys of my own. And maybe a girl. Even then I hope she will turn out smart and independent and not an emotional wreck.

So when Umair said they will be babysitting Huda this morning while Anah and Hilmi settle their visas, I didn't think too much about it. Huda has a small build and she very much doesn't enjoy being wrestled. I made her cry the last time I saw her.

But do you know what I ended up doing all morning? I played with her hair and always reached for the comb to keep her hair in place. I cleaned up after her (and those sloths for girls) and ate all the food she didn't finish (you know how babies like to eat one bite of everything. Huda thankfully left 1/5). I watched Upin Ipin with her (the other questioned why I was engrossed watching cartoons) and will patiently call her to sit farther away from the TV and reward her with a "good girl" when she does. Or I get up and gently carry her away myself, making sure she could still see the TV despite the movement. I asked questions about her upbringing, her diets..

The only time I think I bullied her was when I clamped her down between my legs so she wouldn't squirm so much when I tie her hair, and it was only for a second! I quickly released her and we put her for her afternoon nap.

So now I suppose I do want a girl. I'll grow her hair out and do all those cute braids and stuffs. And I'll be a mom who carries a comb in her pocket. Doing people's hair is oddly therapeutic.

Surgery is cool but I was reminded why I like Paediatric in the first place

We have a paediatric patient in Plastic Surgery nowadays. 8 years old Mostafa with a broken left jaw from falling from a height. He came in yesterday with his mom and Nisa took his history from his mom (mom said he fell from the stairs but Mostafa told Dr. Mostafa he fell from the asur which according to the doc is "the bridge surrounding the house" whatever that means) while I chatted him up.

He appeared smaller than an 8 years old, swollen left jaw, distorted teeth alignment, somewhat adenoid facies, and definitely looked like a buas kid. No wonder he fell from a height.

Today he came into our class again, wearing a white jubah commonly worn by patients. He came in without his mom, carrying his xray and CT films in a Nestle plastic bag bigger than himself. Sort of looked like a pakcik, haha. He played with some coins while the Dr. Hosam taught us a separate case of palatine fistula.

The coins fell on the ground, he picked them up. Coins fell again, he picked them up. "Shh Mostafa, the doctor is teaching!" I mouthed, and he stood there watching me silently, as if wondering what to do now that he couldn't play with his coins.

It wasn't that noisy, but his innocence was distracting me and I just like to bully kids, so I gestured for him to come near and held my palm open demanding for his coins. He obediently gave me all, hahaha. Someone needs to teach this guy to hold on to his money.

I put them back in his jubah pocket and patted him. "Keep them there."

---

The doctor was showing his xrays and CTs to the class. Mostafa was standing by the bed, obediently passing the doctor one by one of his films.

He looked like Assistant Lecturer Mostafa, hahaha. I pray this guy grow up soleh, happy, healthy and successful.

Too Korean

Handsome Kid On The Block

He was a black dan kid so that made him one of Madam's lackeys. He arrived midway through warming up and went directly to his fellow black dan lackey conducting warm up at the front to properly bow his respect. Properly. With the right amount of stiff. Respectful.

That was a good impression on me. He ran towards the back and righted a junior's stance. Responsible.

This kid was after my own heart.

They were then practicing the basic punches and kicks. One of the white belt hubaes had a wardrobe misfunction and so said lackey stopped warming up and pulled the junior out of formation. Like a good hyung, he proceeded to tie the uniform and belt for him, hubae standing still as hyung wrapped his arms around his waist to tie the belt on neatly. A green belt hubae also had a malfunction and hyung was readily the stylist of the day.

Warming up over. He leaned on the wall, arms crossed while eying red belt juniors practiced hitting the plank from the corner of his eyes with a solemn expression.

He was probably a sixth grade student max, about 1.2 meter tall but already he was living an example of a raised-well son. This, people, is why I am a pedophile.

Shit. He's tying another hubae's belt again. And he caught me staring at him. Argh.

Monkey And The Don

Maru was practicing his pattern. To our family honour's horror, he wasn't being serious! He punched like a sissy and kicked like a wuss. After he was done, he ran and slid back to his friends like a retired bowling ball before looking around for me.

Hunching on my plastic seat and exuding boss-mafia aura despite only two hours of sleep last night, I looked him in the eye and signaled him to come over.

I told him to punch and kick like I refused to tell him where I hid Big Bro's birthday gift for him. He cringed. I told him to punch and kick harder or I wouldn't tell him where his birthday presents are.

I believe I made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

The Dance

My taekwon do instructor used to threaten us whenever we make a mistake during practice. Flirt with that big tree until it says I love you back, or so was his words. He was then a young adult.

I never knew how to flirt with a tree until it says I love you to me or how to flirt, period. However, it did occur to me the creepiness of being loved by a tree, so I usually resort to running laps whenever I did a punishable mistake.

But today, looking at the stump where the big tree used to be, I suppose if someone lean onto its tough mighty trunk and do a sexy wave, that probably will get the tree to swoon and drool I-love-yous all over them.

May God keep her safe always

Paginya saya bangun sendiri. Kagum sebentar, haha. Subuh berjemaah dan mathurat kubra beramai-ramai. Kak Milah sediakan nasi lemak sementara saya dan Panic berbual. Makan, seterusnya berbual sehingga tengahari.

Panic namakannya usrah Panic & The Peas, lol.

Membawanya berjumpa Balqis. Saya berusaha nak suapkan habis makanan si kecil itu tapi dia degil, mahu pizza dan kek serta jus mangga orang dewasa tetapi enggan habiskan lagi dua sudu makanan yang mamanya masakkan penuh kasih sayang.

"Balqis, jangan macam ni," saya bersyarah kepada bayi yang enggan lepaskan botol ubat kosong untuk dikunyah. Dia duduk di atas tilam yang diletakkan di lantai dan saya berteleku di sisinya. "Entah bila lagi kita nak jumpa-"

Dia memandang saya, tersenyum dan memegang lembut tangan saya seperti ingin menenangkan saya. Seolahnya berkata "Jangan cakap macam tu Acik Hana, nanti kita jumpa lagi laa."

Saya cair, bergulingan dan merangkulnya saat itu juga.

Panic faham mengapa saya sayangkan Balqis lebih, haha. Kelihatan Aunty Panic juga bergomel membuli Balqis, mengangkatnya gaya Lion King, lol.

Perlu meneruskan perjalanan ke rumah Kak Pana pula. Mendukungnya sebelum keluar dan Balqis terus melentokkan kepalanya ke bahu saya dan menepuk-nepuk bahu saya, seolah mengetahui si dewasa ini perlu ditenangkan.

Saya cair. Balqis yang disayangi dan menyayangi. Hari ini usianya 364 hari.

Saya tak nak bayi lain. Saya nak Balqis je.