Diabetic Diet

At times I'm just totally sick of my job, or to be more exact, of my patients. Sitting in a district health clinic and taking charge of your community's primary care is taxing, especially when you deal with Malaysians. And it's extremely depressingly frustrating.

Out of a hundred diabetic patients that I see, only 10 has a satisfactory glycaemic control. Out of the ninety poorly controlled diabetic patients that I verbally assaulted, only half takes their medication properly whilst the rest can't even tell me how many tablets they take a day. Out of the poorly controlled diabetic patients who are non-compliant to their medications, a quarter of them are still in self-denial that their diabetes is treatable and CURABLE. Sigh. I wish I could just rest my case and let them die miserably. Too bad diabetes is a slow dying process.

Me: Makcik punya gula kawal tak cantik la. Semua dua digit sahaja. Ada makan ubat tak?

Makcik: Ada, saya makan tiap-tiap hari.

Me: Makcik makan ubat mana? Pagi berapa biji, petang berapa biji?

Makcik: Errr.. (trying to confabulate) Pagi makan dua tiga biji.

Me: Dua atau tiga? 

Makcik: Tak ingatlah saya.

Me: Itu ubat makan hari-hari takkan tak ingat?

Makcik: (trying to act cute) Hehehe... tak ingat.

Me: Gula hari ini tinggi pula. Semalam makan apa?

Makcik: O... semalam ada pesta durian.

Me: Saya kan dah cakap makcik tak boleh makan durian.

Makcik: Orang kasi takkan I tak makan?

Me: Orang kasi racun you makan tak?

Makcik: (another futile attempt to act cute) Hehehe..

Me: Saya nak mengamuk ni. Dahlah orang bagi nasihat tak nak dengar. Makcik kan tau hari ini nak jumpa saya check gula, tak boleh ke kawal makan sekurang-kurangnya malam semalam? Susah sangat ke bagi saya gembira sikit?
Makcik: Hehehe.. sorry doktor.
Me: Apa guna sorry sorry. Bukannya badan saya yang sakit. Makcik dah spoil mood saya hari ini dah.

I'm just pissed off. Totally.