Because I can't stand it anymore. . .

It's hard to be excited about anything these days. I mean, ANYTHING at all.

I'm angry all the time. And I tweet about it almost all the time. And most of the time, my friends think my tweets are crazy and silly and funny.

I'm currently reading Jarhead by Anthony Swofford. I haven't seen the movie but what I've learnt from this book is that soldiers are damaged people. Mentally. Sometimes I feel like I'm mentally damaged too. I did things that I'm not proud of just for the fun of it or just for the sake of trying. To the heck with it.

So I got stung by a bee today. That little prick got underneath my white coat and stung me when I was taking my coat off during lunch break. Since I was admitted to the hospital before because of a wasp sting (the doctor said it was absolutely necessary to admit me), I thought I should go to the hospital.

So to the hospital I went. My friend told me to go straight to the casualty. To the casualty I went. They asked me what happened, I told them, even showed them the little twat that bit me. They took my medical history. Since I had history of childhood asthma and sometimes exercise-induced asthma particularly during winter, they told me that I should get treatment for it. They told me I needed to go to the medicine outpatient department and get a prescription from there.

I mean, WHAT THE HELL. They were only gonna prescribe me some steroid and anti-histamine, I can prescribe myself with those. I only needed someone to inject me with those because I'm a crybaby and I don't have the gut to inject myself.

But I went to medicine anyway. Had to wait for half an hour to get the card done. Yes, only the card. Took another 15 minutes before I could see the doctor. And I was the first in line. Wonder what happened to the patients who are morbidly sick on a busy day.

A nurse took my card and told me to sit. I sat on the bench outside the doctor's office. 15 minutes later, she called my name and asked me to remove my sandals before going inside. I peeked into the office and I saw that the doctors were wearing their shoes so I decided to ignore the nurse and went inside with my shoes on.

The doctor, Dr. Vijay Somannavar (I will remember you till the day I die), told me to sit on the stool. The stool was 4 feet away from where he was sitting. He asked me what my problem was. I told him, "Sir, I got stung by a bee". He didn't understand this. I repeated the same sentence three times. Then I rephrased, "A bee stung me" and "a bee bit me". They didn't seem to know what a bee was. I said, "a bee, you know, an insect that stings people?". Finally they understood. One of them said, "It has biting you?" What the hell. And I thought my English was terrible enough.

He wrote my chief complaint as "history of insect bite half an hour ago". He made it sound like I freaked out and went to see a doctor because I got bitten by a mosquito. For fuck's sake. I got bitten by a bee. I could have gotten anaphylaxis and DIED. (Anaphylaxis is a severe,sudden or delayed allergic reaction that can kill you, by the way.)

The other doctor took my blood pressure, pulse rate and measured my weight. Then he told me to get an injection and take some medicine.

Dr. V: Go to Casualty and take this injection, one Avil injection, then take this tablet once daily for five days. After you got the injection you come here.

Me: Sir, what injection and tablet are you prescribing? Are those anti-histamine?

Dr. V: Yes, it's anti-histamine. Now do you wanna talk or do you wanna hear me talk? If you wanna talk then fine with me, otherwise you shut your mouth and listen to me talk.

WTF is your problem? Do I have no rights to know what are you prescribing me? It's not like I asked you where did you get you tight-ass hookers from. I'd just like to be informed about my treatment.

This place is brimming with that type of people. Those who think that they are so superior than the others, those who think that other people are the vermin, the scum of the earth. Is that why you positioned the stool for the patient to sit on 4 feet away from where you were sitting? You're disgusted with the poor, dirty patients coming to seek your medical assistance that you don't even want to touch them thinking that they're the scum, low-life bastards who don't deserve a place on this Earth? Well, guess what, this world does not need people like you.

I hate doctors like that. I hate doctors and medical students who wear their stethoscopes around their necks like a dog collar all the time, even when they shit. I hate doctors who never miss to write a Dr. prefix to their names every time and everywhere even when checking in to the hotel rooms or booking bus tickets or filling in a magazine subscription form. I don't even know why is that even necessary.

I understand, you worked hard to get that title, hell I know how hard you worked to get the title. But for me, being a doctor means something more. Something much more. To put it simply, it means that YOU HAVE TO HELP PEOPLE. Not boasting around that you are a doctor. You're not GOD. You may be able to perform a complicated triple by-pass heart surgery and save the patient's life but you're not GOD. You may be able to amputate a gangrenous limb and do a beautiful job which may save the patient's life, but then BAM! Fat embolism from the bone marrow of the amputated limb gets into the circulation, gets lodged in the heart, the patient dies, because you are not GOD. I hope these people don't taint the noble profession by their atrocious conduct. But then again, this is India. People are poor and uneducated and let themselves to be treated like that. So all I can do is bitch about it in this blog. Selemah-lemah iman. Cuma mampu membenci dalam diam.