It’s the same feeling all over again.
4 years, or is it 5 years ago? When I was tasked to be the platoon leader in a night ambush simulation operation during my Potential Officer Course, I told my teammates during the operation briefing: “The Dr. Thong you befriended or knew just before is not here now. You are with the other version, who only knows the mission and the mission alone.” The reason I said that is because I knew the operation would be tough. It was a battle of endurance, where the team was tasked to hide in the Malaysian Jungle, where the temperature drops to the point of freezing while the rain pours, without light or warmth. All sorts of creepy crawlies wandered on the muddy ground around us, with mosquitoes enough to cause me to have an allergic reaction the day after. During the operation, I did not sleep, kept my eyes on the enemy route, ate sparsely, talked less, act only as needed. Hell, I even addressed my close friend who I regarded as my dear brother by his rank.
Sure enough, the team became more alert, organized, and disciplined. We went through the night holding the wits about us, but barely. Lots fell sick during and after, including myself. Despite the hardship, the operation went well, I protected my teammates, and we survived the night with our morale intact. It was a successful ambush simulation.
Well, that was 4 years ago, and it was in the military. Thinking back, I’m not sure that I would condone that method now as an educator. I’m not sure too that I knew the delicateness of leadership. I suppose it’s fair to say I have learned a few things over the past few years on my own accord, by throwing myself to the edge of the country trying to run a small department while looking for ways to discover myself.
I have learned, but recently I am having that feeling again, that “The other Dr Thong” is creeping up on me.
It has been an eventful month. Following my recent resignation from the Ministry of Health, and joining the line of education as a lecturer at Universiti Malaysia Sabah, much has transpired requiring my undivided attention:
1. Enrolled into a Master of Science program and started a Clinical Trial
2. Appointed Head of Department of Psychiatry Department
3. Adjusting my role as an educator to the future young doctors
4. Expecting my second son to be born in April
5. My grandma fallen critically ill back in Semenanjung
Those are the ‘titles’, I don’t want to go into details about how each of the problems weighs on me. I leave it to the reader’s imagination.
I am currently on my flight back to Kota Kinabalu, leaving Kuantan, where my grandmother is. Heading back to my pregnant and expecting wife, my naughty 1-year-old son, and my newly appointed job. I am staring at the night sky as the plane pulls itself to the darkened clouds, and a thought comes to me:
“What are you doing? Your grandma is still sick in the hospital! She is such an important person in your life. Why are you leaving?”
That’s why I pulled out my iPad and wrote this post. It is sort of a reality check for me and you, to know that I am still aware of my actions, and maybe telling you who read this to try to understand my point of view about the current events.
I know, a lot of people have been worried about my health recently, both mentally and physically. There have been many voices of concern from people at work or my family, to take care of myself. If even my hardcore mom tells me the same, that’s when I know the concerns are very real. I am aware that I am tired to the point of not realizing exhaustion, at times auto-piloting myself through my problems and tasks. Thankfully, I was greeted by my mother’s maid’s specially prepared bed as soon as I arrived at my parent’s house, and collapsed on it for these past 2 days while being physically hundreds of miles away from my usual responsibilities.
Still, for those who are worried, thanks, I will, because I have a job to do.
I know, that the road ahead will be challenging and treacherous. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. The tasks required of me are going to pile up, as the university hospital is now still in development and the department still has lots to catch up on, as my Masters Program would require me to commit my time to research work, or as my second born will require his father’s care and presence. Still, I’m not a person who makes commitments into excuses. I don’t plan to fail in things I have decided upon myself. I just hope that you reading this post, understand that I may require help in performing the task above, but not constantly reminding me that I might fail, because I know clearly what “are” at stake, and I’m prepared to see them through the end. So please allow me to do them, because I have a job to do.
I know, that today may be the last time I could have spoken to my grandma. I’m not that idiot of a doctor to know the most probable outcome. Left Frontal Temporal infarct with hemorrhagic transformation, right hemiplegia, hypoactive delirium, loss of gag reflex, sepsis with leg cellulitis, underlying atrial fibrillation, the list goes on and on. The fact that I was able to still speak to her and have her looking back at me drowsily today is already a medical miracle. I’m not going to bargain for more at this point. It’s just that I too have responsibilities that I can’t abide. Rather than staying back and simply hoping for another miracle to happen, I chose to do what my grandma would have wished me to do: protect my family, protect my job, and pursue my dream.
Don’t be mistaken, it was not a pleasant nor preferred decision, it was just another bitter but better choice to make in these difficult moments as a person with responsibilities. I may be suppressing my emotions, or I may be coping with whatever defense mechanisms I have going on, thanks for the clarification, but please let me do my job.
As the flight continues into the darkness of night, I sit quietly listening to my thoughts, mindful of the tantrum and yearning for any sort of relief. No matter how far I look, there is no clearness of answer, like the scenery just outside of the window I’m leaning against, void with an endless unknown. I may be jumping from one problem to the next. I just hope I chose the right solvable ones to work on.
But I know, somewhere beyond the darkness lies the brightness of the sun and stars. Even if the flight continues endlessly, there will be a dawn that brings colours across the horizon.
And there I envision my grandma’s beloved face, smiling at me, knowing that I have done what she would have hoped me to do.
The circumstances feel familiar, but I don’t think I will need “the other Dr Thong” anymore. Because I’m sure that I’m better than him already.
Dr Vie Cheong Thong M.D. 