Beneath The Bedpan

I wrote the story 'Beneath the bedpan' long ago. It was the first post I wrote that attracted many readers who were USM lecturers at our medical school. Then I wrote short stories for kids, which were translated into other languages (including Russian) by mothers for their children. Some were good stories, others were just plain story-telling. The one that many readers enjoyed was entitled '12 Golden pins'.

Many don't know that I don't have lights in my office when I type posts in my blogs. I type with just the light coming from the computer monitor. So you will see many typo errors because I can't see the keyboard myself. If I have time or remember, I will do the corrections. Otherwise they remain in my posts. I can type in dimmed light from my experience playing the piano and the piano keys have to be memorised. So my typing is just like when I was playing my piano, only that I played my piano with my eyes closed!

The repair boys have arrived, and I told them my room was flooded from upstairs. Sure enough, it short-circuit my ceiling lights and that's why I don't have lights.

Just like the other days, today too, I don't have lights in my office and I'm typing with just the lights from the computer monitor. I should have lights by noon, or next week, hopefully. I will come back and type later as it is quite straining on the eyes working in the dark.

My office was leaking for 2 weeks and I had 2 big rubbish dump of gunk from upstairs, the surgical ward. It seems, the 'new nurses' didn't know where to dump plaster of Paris (POP) after use and they simply dumped the leftover into the sink and over time, the POP built up in the plastic drainage pipes over my head. Of course, back pressure built up and the pipes burst at the joints, and I had the gunk and slurry from ages, down in my office, on  my research materials, on my teaching materials, on my carpets and sofa, on my fridge and magnets, etc. Everything in my room was drenched with gunk from upstairs. I can't say much because we already have ISO in place, so to speak. But what is ISO good for when I come to office and get a flooded office with gunk from upstairs? I can still work and produce books and papers even though I have one of the worst offices in a medical school. I think we have to simply survive this challenge in this age and keep writing our lousy workplace stories.

I'm going out to get some fresh air. The gunk and everything else stink in my office. It's nauseating but that's life here. Well, I will have survived and worked here for 30 years come 28 June 2013.