Doctor - a zigzag journey

Part 34 - I am AIN

Background: 2004 – 2005 (Age 37 - 38 years)

One afternoon, after observing a few surgical procedures in the operating theatre, I went back to the hostel for lunch. Two packs of instant noodle, an egg, and a tomato. Two packs of noodle! Yes, I was a big eater. Anyway, I had some left-over that day. It was the cheapest meal that I could afford. The money loaned from my second brother was kept in a fixed deposit account to pay my university fee which would be due soon. The petty cash from my saving in Malaysian Ringgit had shrunk 2.7 times after being converted to Australian Dollar. I monitored every dollar I spent. I ran out of cash but would only be able to withdraw from my fixed deposit account the following week.

After lunch, I walked back to the surgical ward. I walked pass a public phone and made a phone call to the nursing home that Aris suggested.

"Hello, I am KC, ......a medical student looking for......... a casual job as an AIN," I fumbled on the phone.

"Medical student? Have you got experience caring for the elderly? Shower them? Wipe their bottom?" a female voice from the other end of the phone rattled through a list of pre-requisites.

"Ehhhhhhh...," I made an incomprehensible noise for a few seconds as I was embarrassed. Finally, I admitted, "No."

"Sound like you are unable to even make a bed for the patient," she continued, "you're not qualified, mate."

She hung up the phone.

"......................................." I was stunned in despair. Was I so useless? I was not even given a chance to try! Unfair! But who cared? The recruiter was meant to select the best-fit person.

The lunch break was over. I went back to the surgical ward. The phone call resonated in my head. Was I disqualified for the job as an AIN? No! I thought a face-to-face interview might be better. I would ask Aris to introduce me to the nursing manager at the nursing home.

The afternoon, I saw a few post-op patients who had prostatectomy or TURP (transurethral resection of the prostate). I checked their indwelling urinary catheter (IDC) and fluid balance, and reported to the doctor-in-charge if the patients had a complaint or request. The IDC was draining strawberry-coloured urine which was quite common on the first day post-op. It was blood in the urine. It should clear up as time progressed; bleeding cessation could be a sign of healing. Yeah, the same principle applied to a 'bleeding heart caused by a bad experience'.

I returned to the hostel in the evening; I was ruminating over the bad experience of the phone call. The 'bleeding' had not stopped yet. My first attempt to find a casual job failed! Would there be more challenges and failure ahead? The glass was half empty. Oh no! I should think the glass was half full instead, but I couldn't as I would not have cash until the following week. I decided to just eat the left-over noodle for dinner. I was starving that night.

The weekend, Aris kindly took me to meet the nursing manager at the nursing home.

"Mary, this is KC, a medical student and he wants to work as an AIN," Aris said politely.

"OK," she looked at me from head to toe – a medical student who looked much older than most other students.

Then she continued: "KC, you know Aris is one of our favorite AINs here. He is efficient and loved by the elderly. I will let you work with Aris for a few shifts and see how you go."

"Thanks!" I replied happily.

I completed and signed a few documents and produced evidence that I was a medical student with a student visa that allowed me to work legally in Australia.

"See you next week, KC," Mary said with a smile.

The smile was warm. What a pleasant experience this time! What a contrast with the bad phone call experience! The 'bleeding from the heart' stopped. I knew that Aris had played an instrumental role in getting me this AIN job. Mary liked Aris, and she might like me depending on my performance as an AIN.

That evening, Aris gave me a treat for a dinner to celebrate getting me a job. I should have given him a treat instead, but I was incapable of financially.

*****

Aris took me for an orientation in the nursing home on my first day as an AIN.

Walking into the nursing home, I felt the warmth. The elderly residents were mostly lying on their bed or sitting in their wheelchair with a cozy fluffy blanket covered them up to their waist or chest. A few of them walked around with a walking stick or 'wheelly walker'. But it was hard to find eye contact with them. They seemed withdrawn and pensive, hardly speaking to anyone. Except Gwen. She had a hoarse loud voice and she loved singing. She liked to say "Jesus, come to help me". And her song....ehhhh...I didn't know the title but attempted to appreciate it.

Passing by the dining hall, I smelled the toast and vegemite (an Australian thing). An AIN was feeding an elderly resident like a mother feeding a baby. Care and appreciation were emanated from the faces. Another elderly lady with a big bib around her neck was waiting to be showered, I guessed because the bib was stained with vegemite and she appeared disheveled.

In the laundry room, the smell of urine on the soiled clothe was pungent! But, the pungency was second to the smell of the fecal materials that an AIN was wiping off the bottom of an elderly resident in the toilet next to the laundry room. I took my hat off to the nurses and AIN who did the job.

"Well, KC, this is the orientation. We will work a few shifts together. Then, you will be on your own," Aris said at the end of the orientation.

"Thank you, Aris. Your help is much appreciated!" I expressed my gratitude.

Before we could sit down to go through the 'bowel movement chart', we heard someone shouting for help.

"Help! Come to help in the shower room please!" the voice with a sense of urgency.

..... to be continued.