SEPTEMBER 24 — “Congratulations for finishing!” The radiotherapy tech said on my final day.
One of the most interesting things about the KL General Hospital radiotherapy department was how generally the staff were upbeat and very nice.
I would have liked to get all of them cake but there’s this thing called not getting them accused of preferential treatment.
Unfortunately I did get an unexpected “present” in the form of a respiratory infection on my last day of treatment and I suspect it was from my being rather lax about mask wearing during my final few days of radiotherapy.
I was just fatigued from the daily trips and hours-long waits.
Fortunately it was mandated for me to see the department resident doctor on my last day of radiotherapy and she prescribed me antibiotics.
I felt lucky — not for being sick, but for it being a bacterial infection, seeing how after just 24 hours on antibiotics and lots of naps the pain in my throat eased.
If it was a viral infection, whether Covid or RSV, there would be nothing for me besides painkillers and maybe Paxlovid (which isn’t that easy to get unless your symptoms are really bad).
My charges for 20 sessions of radiotherapy? RM12 x 20 or RM240 in total. What I paid for antibiotics and antihistamines for my infection? RM0.
I may really like my two-minute-walk-away primary care GP but I knew my bill with her would be at least RM60.
One side effect of radiotherapy no one prepared me for was high blood sugar levels.
I was scared that I was developing diabetes as I was starting to manifest symptoms: worsening neuropathy, increased urination and dark coloured skin folds.
Then I read up and found that one way the body reacts to being microwaved on a daily basis is pumping up blood sugar levels.
So now I’m back to testing my blood sugar levels on a daily basis and having to tweak my diet to try and avoid getting full-blown diabetes.
It’s disheartening but it is what it is.
As hard as it is sometimes, I focus on keeping my mind healthy and my thoughts away from overly dark places.
There are so many things out of my control but at the very least I can rest my mind, find my peace and focus on healing.
That doesn’t stop me from wanting to whack a fellow patient with a rolled up towel during my immunotherapy.
My sessions have been moved from Wednesday mornings to Monday afternoons and on my first Monday, there was a patient from an East Coast state who would not stop complaining.
Of course the daycare ward was full; more than 70 people in total with only four staffers on hand.
Maybe this lady was blind.
She whined wanting to know when a recliner seat would be free (they were all occupied by other patients).
She whined, complaining she’d come all the way from the East Coast and she would be tired sitting in the tiny chairs we were temporarily assigned.
She just whined and whined about how everything was taking so long and she would only get home at night at this rate.
Her turning out to be one of those people who watched videos loudly on their smartphone really should not be surprising.
I had to grit my teeth not wanting to snap at her or make a scene because look, why make things hard for everyone involved.
Fortunately, just when she was about to start on another diatribe about how she, a 41-year-old, is clearly suffering (never mind all the much older and frailer people in the crowded ward) a nurse moved me to a cozy armchair across the room from her.
Look, I get it.
Cancer isn’t fun.
I’m in pain all day, my joints feel like they were carved from cement, walking for more than 20 minutes makes my feet sore and to top it all I’m in induced menopause.
Hot flashes really do feel like being doused in hellfire but at least I’m able to bear air conditioned hospital waiting rooms better as I’m toasty more than 90 per cent of the time.
East Coast lady should be angry but it’s not the hospital staff she should be regaling with her complaints.
Be mad that our public healthcare system is underfunded.
Be mad that KL General Hospital is understaffed.
Be mad that insurers are price gouging to the point people are cancelling their policies and opting for public healthcare instead.
She is wasting her energy mouthing off to people who are also victims of the same mismanaged system.
I am grateful that I am nearing the tail-end of my treatment while the Health Ministry has not yet implemented all of its silly schemes (the ridiculous Rakan KKM for instance) so I can still get my appointments and medication as per usual.
What I am looking forward to doing once my body is a lot more functional is to also do a lot of complaining — but hopefully the type of complaints that shift things, not necessarily for me but for other people.
I want everyone to get at the very least, the standard of care I received in our government hospitals, if not better.
Our public healthcare system is worth defending, especially from those who would sacrifice it to ensure steady patient flows to private hospitals.
The cancer is gone from my body because of it and I will shout that to anyone who will listen even as I wobble around on these unsteady legs.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
