Pain and Suffering in This World: Examples from a Doctor’s Desk (Part II)

Your first day of work was hard for you. You never knew that being a doctor at a local government hospital puts you under many dilemmas and forces you to see various facets of human sufferings. You imagined what it would be like if you were working at an affluent private hospitals. Your dilemmas would most probably be limited to things like “Well, this bastard thinks he is so filthy rich that he treats everyone like a sack of potatoes. I really feel like kicking his ass. Should I go ahead and do it?” But your dilemmas are different.

All your patients are poor. How about a jamu seller (jamu is Indonesian herbal drink, supposedly to bring good health) who requires three strong doses of medications for Schizophrenia? She needed it for her husband, her first son, and her second son. To use a layman’s term, they were all crazy. Her husband and first son suffered from severe Schizophrenia. Her second son suffered a moderate one. They had to be locked up at home everyday. She had to walk many kilometers a day from morning till evening, carrying her jamu basket door to door to support her family. Her husband had fits of rage at random time during the day. He sometimes yells obscenity at night. Her first son sometimes chases his brother around the house. She was afraid that her neighbors were going to kick her and her family out of the neighborhood. Her youngest daughter, who is normal, was under tremendous stress because of this. She cried everyday. And this woman had to work from morning till evening to make ends meet. You imagined how difficult life is for them and the burden that she had to shoulder.

You realized that the Askes (a government subsidized health plan to help the poor; it is very, very limited) does not cover this much medication. You certainly cannot (legally) give her the amount of medication she requires. Even if you (illegally) provided her with the right dosage, it would mean that someone else (who are likely to be poor as well), would not get their required medication. She would have to pay a certain amount (and it was a lot for someone like her) to get the medication that she needed. You told her that. “But I only have this much with me right now. I really don’t have anymore” she said as she took out a piece of Rp.1,000 bill (less than USD 15 cents). “This is all I got. I need this to go home. Please, please, doctor, I really need these medications”. You wondered if that much is even enough for her fare back home. She proceeded to tell you that if she did not get the medications, she feared that her husband and son might act up and they would get kicked out of their house. She pleaded and pleaded. If you granted her wish, you would be taking another poor person’s share of medication. What should you do?

How about another one of your patients. A coconut picker who fell from the tree and suffered nerve damages. Now he walked with a limp and was always under terrible pain due to a pinched nerve. He definitely looked like he was in a lot of pain. He needed strong doses of pain killers everyday. Again, you would like to give him what he needed, but you can’t. The government health plan does not cover that much. Again, this man pleaded and pleaded. He said he really needed the medication. He said he could not take it anymore. You could not remember the last time you say a grown man cried like a little child in front of you. He was always in pain that he could not sleep. You imagined how you would live your life if you were under constant pain everyday that you could not do much.

You thought about the pain and suffering that these people had to go through. If God is a loving one, and is also the almighty one, why would the loving and almighty being let so much suffering to happen in the world? Why can He bear to see His creation that he loved suffer like that? Since God is almighty, He can create a world without suffering. Why is life so unfair, that there are people who had to suffer their entire life, from birth to death, while there are others who lived evil lives yet seemed to enjoy great wealth and happiness? Religions teach us about suffering. That desire is the cause of suffering, or that God is all knowing and His plan (and His intention) is the best for us. But can we really be content with such evasive explanations? That our limited minds cannot understand His plan; and that the world with this much suffering is the “ideal” plan He had for us? If He intends to teach us something, surely the Almighty can devise some plans without making people suffer tremendously just to teach others a lesson or two?

Blazing Redfish

Pain and Suffering in This World: Examples from a Doctor’s Desk (Part I)

After a very long hiatus, here I am, back and kicking. Some people have been asking me about the blog – mostly due to no new entries. Well, here it is. This is a true story as it was told to me by the primary source.

Jakarta, 2004. You have just graduated from medical school. As you were driving home from the hospital (and of course, you were stuck in the traffic jam as well), you recounted the events of your first week of work. Within that week you realized just how lucky you are and everyone else you know. For however bad they think life dealt them, there are people out there who got it far worse. And you certainly encountered a lot of those people during this first week. However, there were several particular cases that week which were stuck in your mind as you were unable to shake the thoughts. At the government hospital where you worked, almost all of your patients were the economically underprivileged, or the poor – and uneducated.

You saw them as they entered the examination room during your first day. A very young couple with their first baby. About 5 months old. A classic Hydrocephalus case (a condition with fluid in the brain that causes the babies’ head to bloat – look at picture), you thought to yourself. It is a very common condition in a poor country. Despite your lack of experience, you noticed that this was a pretty severe one. “Doctor, please help, my baby is sick” the mother said to you. She looked worried. You took a look at the CAT scan result of their baby. Your heart skipped a beat. You took a second look, and it confirmed your diagnosis. You took a looked at the young couple. They looked back expectantly at you. You realized this was not an ordinary Hydrocephalus case. Mainly because you couldn’t locate the baby’s brain in the CAT scan photos. Somehow this one was so severe that essentially the baby’s brain was a liquefied mush (probably because the condition existed since the baby was in the womb), leaving only the medulla oblongata (the part of the brain that regulates vital non-voluntary bodily functions) intact.

“Will my baby be okay, doctor?” the father asked you. You could not bear to tell them what you saw. Medically speaking, the baby is alive. Since the medulla oblongata is intact, it will remain alive at least for a long time. But you also know having no brain would mean. Without the rest of the brain, can you really say that it is really alive? Sure, the baby can still eat, breathe, and poop (all involuntary reflexes). But it cannot process information. It cannot think; it cannot learn. It does not have a brain. Sure the ears can still hear sound and transmit the auditory stimuli. But without the brain to process the stimuli, can it really hear? It can’t. Without a brain, it does not have any feelings. The baby’s brain function is lower than that of the lowest of animals. Animals can still process information; they can be trained; they can feel fear. Without brain, this baby is, functionally, the same as a plant. It does not have a mind. It can only exist, without even knowing its existence.

Apparently the parents do not know this. You see in the mother’s eyes, a hope that you can cure her baby. But not even the most advanced of medical science can help. How can you tell the young couple that their baby is essentially a vegetable? How can you break the terrible news?

Can this baby be considered full and complete, as a human being? Christianity preaches that every human being is created in the image of the Creator. How about this baby? Because we are created in this image, every human being has a God-given conscience, or “natural inclinations towards the good” as the theologians like to call it. With it, every human being can tell between good and evil (even though I always argue it’s a product of cultural teachings). This baby certainly can’t do that. So was this baby created in His image? It does not even know it existed. Did God make a mistake when he created this baby in His image? Or is this baby just not a human being? Is it really alive? Does it have a full and complete soul? After all, it does not have a mind, and it does not know it even existed…Finally, how if you were this baby? How if it is your baby? Who can you blame?

To be Continued…

When We Almost Died at the Grand Canyon (Part III - End)

The scorching sun kept sapping every ounces of my strength on the way up. The hike now suddenly seemed endless. And we haven’t even reached the Indian’s Garden. At this point, I started failing to see the light at the end of the tunnel. My body now moved noticeably slower. I even had stopped sweating. And also stopped being thirsty. Very bad signs. As a former campus paramedic, I realize those were the early signs of a heat stroke, something that could very well be fatal. Especially if you are in the bottom of the Grand Canyon, in the middle of the searing heat. I started hating myself.

One corner of Vegas

For the few times in my life, I began regretting my stupidity. I thought to myself that I should have just stayed back at our campground. Maybe then I could have thought of something to say and built up enough guts to talk to the two hot German girls camping next to us. But instead, here I was, getting screwed beyond redemption. We took a rest. I felt sleepy all of a sudden. My body demanded its rest and probably refused to continue further. It was a very common symptoms when you started to suffer from heat stroke and are exhausted. Had I followed the urge to take a little nap, I would not have gotten up by now. I tried drinking, even though I was not thirsty. My throat was too dry. I decided I could not force myself to drink a lot of water.

Dehydrated, we reached a small rest area. The outdoor thermometer showed 120 degrees Fahrenheit. I think it was somewhere near 40 degrees Celsius. Beautiful. It was during the peak of the summer, the worst possible time to hike down the canyon. I did, for a while, seriously consider the idea of spending the US $5,000 to ask for a rescue helicopter. I was going to let the rangers have the pleasure of adding me into their statistics posted on the warning board for the next year. Maybe if we were to split the 5k between the three of us, it wouldn’t be so bad. Either that or risking never making it home. That made the choice easier. The thought of going home in a body bag started to scare me. I decided I was not such a tough guy anymore.

Nevertheless, we decided to continue on foot. We passed several people hiking down, well- equipped with camping gears and sleeping bags. Wise guys, I thought. We should have been like them. After defeating some more temptations to just give up and call it quits, we continued again. Never in my entire life, I felt so desperate, so exhausted and so fu*ked up. By some stroke of miracle, dehydrated and mildly suffering from heat stroke, we finally made it up. I have never ever forced my body to do that much work. Ever. And my body surely did make this point known to me. It was not happy. By the time we made it, my knees were about to give. I literally could not stand up straight for 15 seconds, my legs refused to support me for that long. My whole body was trembling and my face was covered in dust. My feet were covered with blisters. But I was ecstatic. I had just avoided death. I silently thanked God profusely. And then I thanked other minor deities for good measure. It was seven o’clock in the evening. Total hiking time (the pure, hard, work): 11 hours.

My college roommate was in as bad of a shape as I was. The Catman, however, was still doing fine. He still had ample energy to up climb a tree. This was beyond what the two of us could comprehend. Whatever. I suppose being possessed by an Egyptian cat goddess with distemper had its perks. For the next one week, my body constantly ached. I almost thought I had lost control over my legs. And I am pretty sure I had damaged my right knee somewhat.

We still made it to Vegas and spent the night there. And back. I successfully donated my $1.50 to the Vegas gambling industry. The slot machines had earned it. The total for the one week-trip (with a couple of nights spent sleeping in the car to safe money, and lots of meals involving McDonald’s 1 Dollar Menu) was US$226 for each of us. Not bad.

Moral of the story: Simple. If there is any moral to this story, it is not to be stupid like me.

Blazing Redfish

When We Almost Died at the Grand Canyon (Part II)

Being the overly ambitious young men that we are, we decided to hike down to the very bottom of the canyon. And of course, being the smart college graduates that we are, we decided to start our hike very early the next morning. It was 5.30 am when we left our tent. On the very beginning of the trail, we saw a huge-ass warning sign. It had a big picture of a tough, Rambo-look alike guy who could probably kick all our asses at once, even in his sleep. To the best of my memory, the sign says something like this (not an exact quote):

(Next to the picture of the tough guy) WARNING: Think you’re a tough guy? He did too. But last year we had to rescue 1,667 guys that looked like him by helicopter from the canyon. It could potentially be dangerous to hike down to the bottom of the canyon. If you decide to do so, please obey the following restrictions:

1. DO NOT, in any case, attempt to hike down the canyon and make your way back in one day. Instead make your way down, and camp at the Indian’s Garden campsite near the bottom before continuing your journey up.
2. DO NOT attempt the hike when the sun is up. Continue your hike only before the sun rises in the morning or after the sun sets in the afternoon.
3. Drink A LOT of water, even though you are not thirsty.
4. DO NOT swim on the river in the bottom of the canyon.

Failure to abide to these restrictions can be dangerous and even fatal. Signed: Grand Canyon Park Rangers.

A very strong warning indeed. Most people would probably go and heed the warnings. But not us. Back then, I was young, stupid, and lacked the capacity for common sense reasoning. What choice did I have? I ended up breaking every single one of the restrictions above.

I was not anywhere near the tip-top conditions of the Iron man triathlons specimens, but even I can say the hike down was relatively easy. We got to the very bottom of the grand canyon in about 4 hours time. My bloated ego started to make me think that the Park Rangers were just bunch of pansies. Either that or they were just trying to scare us to make them look “cool” (That was stupid, I know). So much for the so-called “dangers” and “fatal” warnings. Hmpff. Bunch of sissies. Right. Fate would soon force-feed me those words later that day. The rangers were NOT screwing around with the said warning. I am glad that I am still alive today. This experience had made me a better person.

(We were barbaric, I know...)

Much to my surprise, we found a very big river on the bottom of the canyon. It was a very hot summer day. The water was very cool. I can feel the sun burning my skin. I looked at the sun. I touched the water. It felt very tempting. I looked around. The water was now up to my knees. It felt so good. I imagined how great it would be to submerge my body in the cool water. I remembered the warning against swimming in the river. I hesitated. I looked at my buddies. Bastards. They were already swimming. I then proceeded to throw all cautions into the wind and joined them. It was AWESOME. The feeling of cool water touching my mildly sun-burned body was electrifying. Nothing dangerous seemed to happened in the river. I was even more certain now that the rangers were sissies. Later, of course, I found out that the river sometimes have strong under-currents that have been known to drown unsuspecting visitors.

We spent about two hours alternating between swimming, fighting off squirrels that tried to steal our lunch donuts and taking pictures. Feeling satisfied, we decided to hike back up at a little before noon. And this was when my suffering began. Well, for starters, it was now so very, very, HOT. I did not realize this when I was still in the river. Had we ate a can of beans, the heat is probably enough to ignite our gasses and turn us into human time bombs. It was also very dry. Everywhere I saw, there were only sands, dirt, rocks, hills, shrubs and cactus. It then suddenly occurred to me why Grand Canyon is classified as a sub-dessert.

To be continued….

When We Almost Died at the Grand Canyon (Part I)

Too much of deep, life changing philosophical thinking is making my IQ drop at an alarming rate. This is dangerous. Especially in the morning. From when I just got up until about lunch time, my IQ is at a dangerously low point. It is roughly equal to half of my normal level. This morning, my level of IQ is already close to 30-35 on most IQ measurement scale. Most people would consider it a crime to have an IQ this low. Therefore I should stop rambling about philosophical wisdom before my IQ reaches a new low and turn me into a full-blown retard. Instead I will recall a distant memory of a week in the summer after my college graduation. This happened in the summer of 2004 (July), which now makes me feel so old…

We had just finished college. We were, once again, free men, no longer chained to our desks and our massive textbooks, some of which, I can assure you, were large enough to be considered as the weapon of death in many homicide cases. To celebrate this momentous event, three of us, myself, my long time college roommate which also is a very good buddy of mine, and another friend of ours that due to reasons I won’t mention in this entry, will be referred to as the Catman, decided to drive halfway across the country to the gambling capital of the world, Las Vegas, the Sin City itself. Along the way we would stop at Colorado and at one of the America’s wonders: The Grand Canyon.

Long story short, because we were (and I still very much am) such cheap bastards, instead of renting the guest houses, we camped at the Grand Canyon. We slept in a tent under the mighty sky and had to cook our food on the campfire in total darkness. The tent was rather small for three adults, especially when one of which was 2 meters tall. For some reasons beyond me, that night the Catman acted weirder than he usually does. Make no mistakes, he is already a relatively weird guy by most standards (Catman, if you happen to read this, don’t get mad. You still hold a very special spot in my heart). He was very restless and kept tickling my friend and I over our sleeping bags. Then he stole my pillow. Then he tried to instigate a pillow fight. Then he tickled me again. I had hypothesized that he was probably possessed by the spirit of an ancient Egyptian cat-goddess infused with distemper. I can only suppose cabin fever had also played a role.

I realize that I lack the capacity to enjoy some of nature’s beauty. Therefore I will refrain from making comments about the canyon besides the fact that it is HUGE beyond imagination. You cannot see the bottom of it. I have robust fear of falling from the top of its cliff. I guess that’s why it’s called the GRAND Canyon.

To be continued….

The Tao of Nose Picking… It will never be the same again

This is another one of those times when I am deeply immersed in my deep, world-shattering philosophical thought. The rest of the world is no longer relevant to me. But unlike last time, this time I was not taking a dump. Instead, I am doing something more constructive: picking my nose.

This activity never fails to clear my nasal cavity by eradicating the icky and sometimes sticky obstacles (but if you choose to engage in this satisfying yet addictive activity, please don’t wipe it on your shirt). This makes me a better man. I can now breathe fuller, more voluminous pollution-laden air, thereby sucking in more air-borne car fumes, dust, spit, chunks of dead insects, dog poopie and other unmentionables that saturate our fresh air, un-impended by the previously removed obstacles. Graphic, eh? Please kindly try not to think about it next time you breathe.

The next question that would naturally surface is what should you do with the loot (aka. mr. booger). I have a firm, non-negotiable policy, never to wipe it on my shirt. We all know, at some point during our childhood there exists a phase where we used to feed ourselves with these sticky stuff (and don’t you dare play righteous and prude with me, I know you’ve done it). Some people would liken the taste of it to that of the most expensive of caviar. Regardless of where you decide to land your catch, we all should engage in this activity more often. Collectively, we can make the world a better place.

Blazing Redfish

Edible Body Parts!!

I am not a cannibal, but people whose culinary tastes compel them to taste their own kind have claimed that human’s flesh is the tastiest of all meat. Apparently, people eating people have started to become a trend nowadays. There are black markets in third world countries selling body parts of traffic accident victims and homeless people that they picked from the street. The pictures here are taken using a secret camera by an undercover reporter.


JUST KIDDING GUYS! Those are not real body parts! But people do eat them. Those are made out of bread by a Thai art student. His creativity is beyond the outer realms of imagination of most normal people. Only his artistic skill can match his creativity. The bread tastes just like regular bread, so he says. This would make really good pranks.

Read the full coverage here.

Will you eat these breads? I am thinking of the best possible scenario to use them as pranks. Any creative ideas? And something to think about, if you have to eat the bread in the shape of a head like the above, how would you eat it? Which part do you savor first hehe? The lips? The ears? Maybe the nose. Hmm...

Blazing Redfish