I been thinking how to put this in words. But i guess i won't find correct words to describe them. haizzzzzz Pediatric is getting more and more depressing.
I cannot stand watching parents talking softly to their half dead children, cuddling them gently in their arms, carefully stroking them, tired but optimism. I don't understand how they manage to generate so much hope. It strike me hard. A father calmly accepting the news that there is no treatment for his three sons, anticipating same pattern of slow progressive muscle weakness and finally death in the coming years. A 3 year old kid, hardly move, as dead as a doll, and the mother happily explained that she responded for the first time. Another young mother, cheerful and proud of her 1 year old kid for staying alive with multiple fracture, meningoencephalitis, and multiple cellulitis.
oh nooo, these are crazy. Unhealthy kids, trapped in the bodies they hardly use. They are strong people. Sometimes watching those kids struggling to catch their breath, fighting to stay alive, I just wish i have super power and heal them with my touch. But it doesn't work that way. But their parents, these people are crazily amazing. Sometimes to a point that i wonder if it had over the psychology limits of a normal person. I couldn't imagine holding on and carry on for that long, without breaking apart.
Magic. They only exist in parents.
Hmmm.... So when i am hospitalised 23 years ago, did Magic actually happens?!