This short story was first posted on friendster bulletin board. Initally I wouldn't want to have it on the blog. I try not to say too much on what I do everyday. However the fact remains that these stories are really something to share with. So enjoy.
Not all labour room cases are meant for laughs. This morning, I wittnessed one of the toughest battle between a mother and the birth of her youngest child.
She was 34, pregnant for the eighth time. She has had 2 miscarriages and 1 still birth. Should this pregnancy succeed, it will be her fifth child.
She was wheeled in at midnight. Her cervix was already dilated, but the baby's head is still quite high up. To make matters worse, she was progressing very slowly. After 4 hours, the cervix only dilated to a further 1 cm. The baby's head remained where it was.
I thought 'Aiyah, sap sap sui lah. This case sure hantar operation theatre. Another Caesarean section prospect.'
How wrong was I. She stayed in the labour room for another 4 hours, making it an 8 hour labour process marathon. Even so, her cervix was only at 6 cm. Everyone was anxiously waiting for it to get to 10 cm.
Just when I thought she was done for it and she should be prepped for surgery, the doctor was very confident of her progress and decided to give her another 2 hours.
Boy, did we wait. So 8 hours grew to 10 hours. And it did dilated to 10 cm.
By this time, the mother was already exhausted beyond words. 10 hours? My God! Even half ironman cut off time is lesser than that.
She was barely pushing. Tired. Exhausted. Almost at loss. Everyone who was standing around her was beginning to doubt the decision we've made earlier. Maybe we should've pushed her to surgery.
At that moment, a nurse looked straight into the mother's eyes and said "Sis, this is it. Give it your last go. We don't want your baby to suffocate. Let everything be good to you and your baby. I know you love your baby. Now push!"
With a final continuous, big, long, painful, tormenting push, a new life in a form of a cute baby boy was brought to the face of earth. He cried the most beautiful cry I've ever heard.
Giving birth is never easy. It is a play with a woman's life. Yet how often do we acknowledge this?
Call up your mum, and say you love her. And never ever be rude to her. Alhtough it's ok to disagree with her sometimes, but do it agreeably.
Call up your wife, and say you love her too. Respect her requests, because there is no price to put on the sacrifice she made.
Kalau dia suruh bangun tido pegi beli barang, jangan bagi alasan mengantuk pasal tengok bola semalam. Christiano Ronaldo main bola 90 minit jatuh tergolek berpuluh-puluh kali, komplen macam pondan. Bini ngkorang bersalin 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 jam, takde mintak downpayment pon.
This short story was first posted on friendster bulletin board. Initally I wouldn't want to have it on the blog. I try not to say too much on what I do everyday. However the fact remains that these stories are really something to share with. So enjoy.
Waktu itu sudah pukul 2 pagi. Cuma ada 2 orang ibu di Labour Room yang sedang melahirkan anak. Salah seorangnya di jaga oleh aku.
Seorang ibu berbangsa Cina, muda sikit je daripada aku, dan mengandung kandungan pertamanya. Memang nampak dia nervous. maklumlah, pertama kali bersalin.
Tapi lambat laun nervousnessnya hilang ditelan dek sakit yang melampau-lampau. dia merayu "Tak boleh kasi itu ubat hilang sakit ke? Kasi saya pengsanlah. Sakit sangat doktor."
Aku pun kesian sebenarnya. Aku yang single tersanga-sangat ni tengok orang lagi muda dari aku nak bersalin, isk, memang terasa beb kesakitan dia. "Ok, ok. Saya panggil doktor betul punya ye. Dia boleh kasi ubat."
Doktor tu pun kasi injek satu tramadol. Tapi tak jalan gak ubat tu. Bila rahim ibu tu mengeras, memang meronta-ronta mak itu dalam kesakitan.
Dan kemudian datanglah Nurse Bermulut Capoi tu kembali. Mak yang nak bersalin ni pun merayu lah pada nurse nih dengan muka yang merah padam menahan sakit dan air mata yang bercucuran mebasahi pipinya. "Kak, tolong kak! Saya sangat sakit. Tak boleh tahan kak! Tolong sama saya kak."
Dan Nurse Bermulut Capoi ni pun berkata dengan suaranya yang menusuk gegendang telinga bak lembing Bugis "Amoi, you sekarang mau bersalin, Amoi. Memang sakit dia sangat teruk. Kalau bersalin ni tak sakit, saya sudah ada 30 anak woo. You tahan ajelah. berdoa pada Tuhan banyak-banyak."
Adui. 30 orang anak? Aku kesian la kat anak-anak dia semua kalau dia ada ramai macam tu.
This short story was first posted on friendster bulletin board. Initally I wouldn't want to have it on the blog. I try not to say too much on what I do everyday. However the fact remains that these stories are really something to share with. So enjoy.
Waktu itu sudah pukul 2.30 pagi. Masuk seorang ibu yang sarat mengandung, tengah nak beranak. Nurse pun jerit "Ha, ngko tolak dia masuk DS 3, set IV line. Kejap lagi aku datang."
Terus bergegas rakan aku pergi bilik IV line, memenuhkan tray dengan IV line, jarum, kapas dan 3 keping glove getah. Aku tengok je dari jauh. Tak sangka pada malam yang hening itu akan aku saksikan suatu keadaan yang sangat la ralat.
Selepas satu jam berlalu, kakak yang masuk nak bersalin tadi pun dah sampai tahap nak meneran. Nurse pun kelam kabut, nasib baik keadaan delivery suite kat hospital tu sangat organized. So tak la kalut, nampak je sibuk.
"Dik! Jangan teran lagi dik. Tak ready lagi ni. Nanti ngko yang susah terkoyak." Kata nurse yang mulut capoi itu. Aduh, bingitnya suaranya.
Namun sebingit-bingit suara nurse itu, tak dapat ia melarang kakak itu dari terus meneran. Kerana tak tahan dek sakit, dia terus jua meneran.
Tak sampai 10 minit, BUAK!! Terkeluarlah satu nyawa baru. Aku kagum melihat mukjizat kehidupan, di mana lahirnya satu nyawa baru.
Namun nurse capoi itu tetap meneruskan khutbahnya. "Ngko nih, meh aku check tengok. Ni mesti banyak terkoyak ni. tu la ngko tanak dengar cakap aku."
Tapi alangkah terkejutnya nurse itu, bila diselak-selaknya di situ, keadaannya amat pristine sekali. Mungkin cuma sedikit luka, tapi nothing a 37-needle can't handle.
Nurse itu berasa takjub, lalu dia mengeluarkan kata-kata yang memang aku tak sangka akan ku dengar selama aku hidup.
It is a blog about sepeda kuno (classic bicycles). I find it very refreshing to see solid-bodied steel bicycles still rule the roads of Indonesia.
This bicycle definitely grabbed my attention.
I understand why this beauty is preserved in the museum. Look further.
Bevel gears instead of chain-driven cogs!
To me, this is innovation at its best. Maybe not so much on technology, but the solutions they came up with reflects a lot on how much thought, creative visualization and to a certain degree, imagination was put in.
Do visit our friends. There's a lot to discover; Lever-operated cable-less brakes, bicycle suspension during its infancy, wheels with painted sidewalls. Enough to go around a month's worth of lunch break during this fasting month.
Since I'm tied up with ward work and class (and starting with obs & gynae posting isn't the most pleasant thing in the world), I better write something that is more related with what's occupying my conscious mind. Having said that, I foresee no running or cycling for the next month. I have enough reasons.
Anyways, lets discuss about VO2 Max. Something that all athletes are trying to push higher and higher.
Starring in this play are:
To make this discussion simple, I'm using the absolute definition of VO2 Max as it is simpler and easier to understand. You can read about the other definition when you understand more about it. Also I'm omitting a lot of details as I'm trying to make this as simple as possible.
So, what is VO2 Max?
To simply put it, VO2 Max is the amount of oxygen brought to and used by the muscle in a minute. Since oxygen is used in the metabolism of energy, it can be (directly or indirectly) translated to capability of the muscle producing energy. Loosely used, the higher your VO2 Max is, the more power you produce, the longer you last (hihi).
The picture above illustrates VO2 Max in a well-trained person, like Awea. They could reach numbers up to 8L/min!!
In a normally functioning, untrained, triathlete-wannabe person, the usual VO2 Max level is around 3.5L/min. Like this person down here.
Generally, there are 3 ways for the wannabe to improve his VO2 Max.
1. Optimize muscle condition to utilize oxygen better (train the muscle). Like people, muscle behaves in various ways. There are lazy muscles, there are hardworking muscles. Lazy muscles need a lot of whipping to get the work done, kinda like me during school days. So they require a lot more oxygen to produce enough energy. Hardworking muscle is different. Because these kind of muscles are used to hard work, they require less oxygen to produce the same amount of energy, thus increasing efficiency.
2. Improve blood circulation (have a good heart i.e. training). The heart is a natural pump in the body. A weak heart response poorly to exercise. That is why if you try to run 5 km after a month of Manjalara-marathon in front of the TV, you feel your heart is pumping too fast. A well-worked heart adapts better with exercise, thus maintaining adequate circulation of blood throughout the body during physical activity.
3. Improve the capacity of blood to carry oxygen (more training, specifically high-altitude training). About 42% of blood is made up of red blood cells. Red blood cells contain haemoglobin, a substance that is responsible in making your blood red and carrying oxygen. If you increase the amount of red blood cells in blood, you will also increase the capacity of blood to carry oxygen. However, this is difficult to achieve naturally.
Now, when comparing these 2 types of muscle in terms of VO2 Max, it will look something like this:
The limit for trained muscle is the oxygen carrying capacity. This happen because the muscle is now optimized a.k.a. turned to a lean, mean oxygen-burning machine. On its own, it can burn virtually limitless amount of oxygen. The only limit from it doing so is the supply of oxygen itself.
The limit for untrained muscle is the muscle itself. Since weak muscle can't utilize oxygen optimally, there is a lot of 'oxygen waste'. Even if you're able to supply the muscle with maximum amount of oxygen, the muscle simply can't use them, because it's too weak.
Since we're in the topic of improvement, lets further our discussion to doping (illegal improvement). Haha. I like this topic.
Since we've identified the 2 limits in increasing VO2 Max as muscle condition and oxygen transport, intervention in these 2 areas has caused a boom in the doping world.
Small muscle can be made bigger by using anabolic steroids. This rapidly 'matures' the muscle, turning it from Peewee Herman to Rocky Balboa. But this method is losing its popularity because achieving optimal muscle condition is relatively easier. Read: RELATIVELY EASIER. Not easy.
A more popular way of doping now is blood doping. Blood doping (be it EPO, straight blood doping) significantly increases your capability of blood to carry oxygen. Because now you have more red blood cells, you have more power, you last longer (hihi).
The reason why these methods are banned is simply because it's cheating. More than that, you're playing tag with the Grim Reaper. Anabolic steroids can screw up your hormones harmonics (wow, did I just coin the term?). Which is why body builders who take anabolic steroids have small 'prunes'. So Triple H can brag about his big nose and biceps, but I satisfy a woman better than he can.
Same goes to blood doping. Put in too many red blood cells, and you have a condition that is called polycythemia. This multiplies the risk of getting clogged blood vessels. Think stroke, heart attack and pulmonary embolism.
Doping is not as simple as getting caught and get thrown out of Tour de France. It affects a person even deeper. Fans become disappointed. Then they forget you. You become depressed. Alcohol and cocaine quickly become your best buddy. One day, you invite too many of your new 'friends' and then die in their laughter.
So remember. Don't do drugs. Just train harder.
(Those who know who am I talking about in the last paragraph, tell me about him in the comment box.)
Two words: Cyclists-unfriendly. Wait a minute. That's one word.
When driving or cycling, there are 3 things that translate into safety.
1. Good roads 2. Good drivers 3. Good luck
Yes. Good luck indeed finding those three in Batu Pahat.
The roads surfaces in Batu Pahat are in good condition, except the part when it comes to road lines and markings. Almost all lines and markings have faded over the years of torture from Batu Pahat scorching hot sun. This made possible for 2-lane roads to be converted to 4-lane roads, easliy. People get to escape the blame. Take:
Driver 1: Woi!! Ngko ingat ni jalan BAPAK ngko punya?! Tengok lane la!! Driver 2: Apa lane?! Ngko la buta!! Mangkok hayun!!! (Finger)
See. You'll never get caught.Both of you will be right.
And drivers. Batu Pahat drivers, their balls are made of steel, man. I'm telling you, if Batu Pahat drivers play chicken with a lori hantu, the only kind of turn they'll be taking is a turn-on. Somehow they have this affinity towards the front end of cars. They get a hard on when they see the front bumper. Which is why you only see drivers here drive with only one hand on the steering wheel. The other hand is busy beating themselves down there.
And for more than too many times, you'll always find the car in front of you is driven by a 67-year-old Haji Leman Winonoto, 58-year-old Madam Chong or 74-year-old Mr. Velukarupaiyah whom all believe that speed limit signs are mockery to their age, so they tend to drive slower. Pffftt. Denial.
Here's a typical day on a Batu Pahat road.
Guess what happens next.
Welcome to Batu Pahat.
My bike is now nothing more than a very expensive towel rack.
