Mt Alvernia CHEYYY!!!!! BOOOOO!!!!

I need to vent my frustration and disappointment about this PRIVATE hospital.

About 130pm reach Mt Alvernia Hospital to register, managed to see a doctor minutes later. The doctor is a GP, he asked if we want to do a blood test for Ziv. We promptly agreed.

Waited, no blood test, took medicine. We requested for the “call-a-paediatrician” service whereby we will call a paediatrician who is on standby to come down to the hospital to see Ziv.

We agreed to pay $250 to $400 for the consultation fee (note, ONLY consultation fee).
About 3pm, was told that a paediatrician was available. His clinic was located on the 2nd floor of the hospital (parents reading this remember, avoid that floor by ALL means), so we went up there. To our horror, there were so many kids and parents waiting to see the paediatrician and there were no nurse around. I was pacing up and down the counter, waiting for someone for assistance. Finally, a nurse came out of the room and immediately I asked if I need to join the queue and the arrogant nurse, looked at me like I was from Mars and snapped, “Of course.”
Instantly, my patience snuffed out. I asked sarcastically, “We are referred from the hospital below, we called for a paediatrician, we paid $250-$400 for consultation and we have to queue, do you mean it?!” I snapped back audibly for everyone in the room to listen to our conversation. Obviously the nurse wasn’t happy that I talked to her in that way, to pissed me further, she asked, “Oh is it H5N1?” I tried very hard to control my annoyance and really wanted to give her one tight slap to ask her to shut her gap, however, I told her calmly, “NO!!” She disappeared in front of me and said she will get back, waited for a few minutes. To a mother, whose son is ill, a minute is like a day. She came out of the room and said, “You are next.”

Went in, saw the most unprofessional paediatrician ever, he hadn’t even started talking and I already know that he is a TWIT. Twit from hell. His table has no computer, no notebook, or any writing material and the table is just empty with half of his arms stretch out on top. I knew it straightaway that he is hopeless and inept, but since I was there, I decided to try him out.
He talked with no confident, dare not make any diagnose and asked if we wanted blood test. My blood was BOILING. I don’t know who is the doctor, he or me? He simply wanted to get over with our consultation and moved on to the next patient, and I asked about the medication, he told me, “See it yourself.” That’s it, I was thinking, why do I have to spend so much money to tolerate nonsense. Since his tone is not exactly professional, I reckon that I don’t have to treat him with much respect, hence I retorted, “Since you are the doctor, why don’t you tell me?” I forgot how the conversation ended, but I left the room, cursing him, hoping that his already sparse hair will drop off soon.

I left the room, without paying a single dime and I said loudly for everyone so that they didnt have to eavesdrop, “The doctor is a joker.” And I left. All the human beings in the clinic heard me, saw me and they feared/hated me. But I don’t care because I was cheesed off.
I went down, ticked the nurses off and asked them the definition of “call-a-paediatrician”. No answer. I told the Head Nurse my very own DEFINITION and she agreed. And I told her, why is it that they didn’t do a check before asking us to go up there and furthermore, the clinic is still in operation. My definition for “call-a-paediatrician” is that a paediatrician who is at home, in the midst of a movie, sleeping on bed, bathing half way through, mending his/her own kid to stop whatever he/she is doing and rush down to the clinic as soon as he/she accepts the call.

But that didn’t happen to that twit up there. He seemed to be “moonlighting” in the daylight. And I am not very happy with that.

We were given a bed to let Ziv lie down, but it didn’t help, Ziv is a particular boy who doesn’t like to sleep on foreign beds except our bed and he is not having his milk, his lunch, his dinner, his sleep, his shower, his rest, cause of the torturous moments in the hospital. I felt sorry for Ziv as his fever got worst.

Finally did a blood test and called a paediatrician in. Blood test/urine test took 1.5 hours to generate report and hence the paediatrician would come in later to see the report and see us. He reached at about 6pm.

Got everything done, and was asked to wait for Ziv’s medicine.

Antibiotic ran out and the nurse said that she needs to send someone to the main pharmacy to get it and it will take 10 minutes. Well, 10 minutes becomes 30 minutes and I told myself to CONTROL my temper. While waiting for the medicine, I saw someone that looked like the twit, he came specially down to see me and asked me to PAY UP. He should be a beggar not a paediatrician, cause he certainly has got the quality to beg shamelessly. I told him, I will ask the hospital to settle the bill, not me.

We reached home 8 plus, tired, angry, hungry and HOT. Ziv’s fever shot up to 40 Degree Celsius. On my way home, I already swear to God that if I don’t complaint this to the hospital and medical board, my surname will not be WONG and I will call myself BASTARD. And if Ziv is not going to get well, I will issue out lawyer letters to ALL those who cross my path while I was there in the hospital.

Damn, we reached the hospital in day time and we exit the hospital in dark night.
I swear that I will not go to Mt Alvernia anymore. Not even there to go see a friend’s newborn (if any). I abhor that place.

Maybe the hospital does not understand what is "Emergency". If I were to go KK, despite the number of patiences is significantly more than in Mt A, the waiting time to see a doctor is still so much faster, each time we went there, it takes us less than 3 hours to settled everything. I was so naive to think that private hospitals are better.

If its you, will you complaint?

40

40 is a scary number.

Not that I am approaching the big 4-0 (age) and not that I have a waist of 40 inch.

Ziv recently had fever which peaked at 40 Degree Celsius. Scared the shit out of us.
Went to KK A&E yet again on Thursday night followed by Mt Alvernia on Saturday afternoon, and we were all so busy and stressed out.

Reprimanded the nurses, ticked off doctors, admonished the in charge at Mt Alvernia, you don’t wanna know. One thing for sure, we are not ever going to private hospital, and for the fact that they aren’t as good as what they should be. I was trying to find time to write a complaint letter to the head of Mt Alvernia and the Medical Board.

When Ziv was having 40 Degree Celsius fever at night, he had feverish eyes, rashes on his face and etiolated body, what a heartrending sight. Sponging him and making him wail is always the last thing we want to do, but we have no choice.

Anyway, we met a really responsible and expensive paediatrician and he was so nice that he even called us up the following day to ask about Ziv. On Saturday, he advised us to admit him to the hospital after several tests, but we insisted on monitoring him until Sunday and we were glad that he heeded our decision and we were proven right not to admit Ziv because we understand that he is not exactly very sick but mainly because of the ‘torturous’ moments in the hospital that is making his condition worst.

Well, this time round we learnt something new. Ziv was actually suffering from fake measles, medical term, Roseola. With this incident, I told Kevin that I will give up my job and take care of
Ziv full time at home, anyway, the decision didn’t stay for long, was overwritten by my FIL and he advised that my MIL should quit her passion and take care of Ziv.

Either way, Kevin has temporarily withdrawn Ziv from childcare center for half a year so that we can slowly build up his immune system before he hit back to the center.

Having said that, I hope Ziv will be healthy again like he used to be. And I really wish, no more hospital trips in the wee hours.

Hospital A & E

It is the last place where I wanna be, in this world.

From early this year, I have been to KK Hospital A & E 4 times and just yesterday I went to TTS A & E.

Out of those dreadful 5 visits, 3 of them happened within these 2 weeks.

The reek of the medicine, the sound of rubber wheels of the trolley bed rubbing against the vinyl floor, the whispers of the nurses, the humming of medical electronic equipment, the wailing ambulance from afar that insinuate ‘emergency’… I want to get out of there.

To make things worse, the sights and sound of patients groaning in pain is almost unbearable and agonizing. I don’t know them. But I feel for them.

Dad was admitted to A & E yesterday 4pm for super high blood pressure and possible of stroke and heart attack. Having heard about this from my aunt, I called up my brother and Kevin. Both of them rushed to the hospital almost immediately, while I went about an hour later, after knowing that his blood pressure had went back normal after admission.

Drove to the A & E, without GPS, and super heavy traffic, I was lost, I wasn’t driving. My mind is driving me away from the road. I didn’t even know how I managed to reach the hospital.
Somehow, I was led there, by who, how, I have no idea.

Registered myself as one of the visitors; I paced through doors and many countless doors, to reach the observation room. The observation room looked like a war hospital. Trolley beds all around, I have to peer at every sick-looking patient to find my Dad, and I thought I was intruding to their privacy. Anyway, Dad was there, the healthiest looking among the lot. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Dad insisted on getting out of bed and go home, but doctor had instructed him to stay under observation for 8 hours, which means he can only leave the place past midnight. I talked to him and he recalled his encounter to me. I was pretty depressed, that I couldn’t be with him when he needed someone close to him to get him to the hospital. Doctor had asked him to stay for further observation for 3 days, but he vehemently disagreed. We let him have his way. Cause as long as he is happy and I bought him pressure tester to make sure he tests it every few hours.

Don’t want to delve into what has actually happened. I am jaded after standing beside the bed, worrying about what will happen. Dad is back at home.