Reflections from the Frontline
Coronavirus, an organism invisible to the naked eye, has brought the world to its knees. Like many amidst this unprecedented pandemic, I have been compelled to reflect on my role as a frontline healthcare worker in a pandemic medical clinic as well as the professional and spiritual values I seek to uphold.
The medical profession that first attracted me was one of altruism, compassion and healing. 35 years on from my graduation as a Doctor, these remain at the heart of my practice. The COVID pandemic has been a poignant reminder to me of the true and unchanged core of my chosen life’s work.
Serving others in this work sees compassion as a hallmark of being a “good” doctor, just as Jesus Himself was often moved by deep love, caring for people. Good knowledge or being able to come to the correct diagnosis doesn’t make someone a good doctor. Having to don personal protective equipment (PPE) – especially wearing a mask – has underscored just how important facial expression is to conveying compassion in a clinic consultation.
This was most evident in the initial weeks of COVID presence in Singapore. Patients were fearful and panicky. Those who had no symptoms suggestive of the contagion thought they had fallen victim to the virus; others who should be tested for COVID refused to do so out of fear of a positive test result. Masking during such one-on-one encounters deprived me of an important means of conveying reassurance and care while allaying fear in patients who were anxious, unreasonable and demanding.
At those times, there was no place for irritation and impatience. Compassion had to be conveyed through words and how they were spoken. Prayer before each clinic session helped me to deal with difficult situations when these arose, and I placed my clinical skills and judgement into His hands rather than rely on my presumed knowledge or ability.
Finally, I have been asked, “Aren’t you scared of contracting COVID infection?” To be honest, fear has never entered my heart at all. Perhaps it was because I have faith in the PPE I wear? But I think not. The faith I feel is more simple but deeper than that:
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.” … and I “will not fear the pestilence that stalks in the darkness nor the plague that destroys at midday” (Psalm 91: 2,5,6).
Lee Tang Yin
Stories from the Frontline
This big COVID-induced “pause” upon civilization looks more like a congested traffic jam at times. As a physician, I am uniquely positioned to bear witness to some of its casualties.
“Doctor, I am very worried lah. I have depression and take pills from my doctor in Malaysia but since lockdown, I cannot,” said M, a 33-year-old Malaysian bus driver. He was one of 300,000 Malaysians who travel across the Causeway daily, and who was affected by the sudden closure of the border. The announcement resulted in many having to make quick decisions on which side of the border to be on. He had left his wife and seven-year-old daughter in Malaysia. “ I am the only breadwinner lah. My contract will end if I stay in Malaysia, cannot work,” shared M.
Here was a father and husband, separated from his family for an indeterminable period of time, unable to be physically present with them, yet reading of the rising number of COVID cases across the border.
“Hello, doctor! I have runny nose,” said A. I asked her the standard questions - whether she has symptoms of the virus, had contact with COVID cases and her recent travel history. She replied, “No. Doctor, I ok one. I still can go out jogging every day.” After a thorough examination, I ascertained that she was otherwise well, and informed her of the mandated 5-day legal requirement to stay at home. She teared up, explaining, “Doctor, I have major depression and I need to jog!” I weakly offered indoor, probably ineffective options. I quietly prayed for her, that she holds out during this period.
“Doctor, I have leg pain. I got a hole in my foot because of safety shoes,” explained J, a shelf-packer at a grocery store. He had an ulcer on the top of a red, swollen foot. He has diabetes and both feet were numb; thus, he was unable to feel pain. He could end up walking with unhealed wounds that become severely infected, and necessitating surgery, sometimes amputation. I advised him to rest to allow his wound to heal and offered him medical leave. “Doctor, crazy at work. Because people stockpile ah, aiyo, need to bring a lot of things from the warehouse quickly,” he lamented. Gradually, he was persuaded but I’m not sure if he complied - I can only admire his fierce tenacity to continue serving at his frontline.
“Doctor, my son got fever,” said a mother of an 11-year-old son. “Also got a lump on his leg,” she revealed. This child looked well but had registered a temperature of 39 degrees. The “lump” was a painful abscess on his thigh and the likely cause of his fever. I told his mum that the abscess could only be treated under anaesthesia, in a hospital. She shook her head vigorously and replied, “I won’t bring him to hospital!” I understood her concern but explained that there was no other way to help her son.
Amidst all these very real stories, Hebrews 11 brings me strength and hope. We see a long list of Bible heroes who ran hard ahead of us, not seeing the fulfilment of the promise, yet running in obedience to God’s call. And in about AD 33, centuries after their life of sacrifice, we see the ultimate fulfilment, embodied in the life and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We, each, amidst this global “pause”, still have a race marked out for us to run. We are not left to run this alone. Hebrews 13 tells us how we are to run, whether under quarantine, or as a frontliner. Let us then run with perseverance, the race marked out for us…fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author, and perfecter of our faith.
Michelle Ting
