A few weeks ago I was in Singapore on my way back to Jakarta. I enjoy being in Singapore. It is a beautiful city-state. It is clean and orderly. And, it is the only place in Asia where one can drink the water out of the tap and not become ill. I also have a number of friends in Singapore. I wanted to find a certified watch repair shop to repair a special watch I had bought in Singapore several years ago. I finally obtained the phone number from Singapore's Directory Assistance service. I called the repair shop and was told that they were located at a certain address on "Abbott" Road.
Before I go further, one must understand that Singaporeans speak a language that is often referred to as "Singglish." It is a combination of British English and a few other languages put together (Chinese and Malay primarily). Emphasis is often placed on syllables that are not necessarily correct, and there is often an interesting "lilt" when they speak. And, it is often spoken very quickly which sometimes makes it hard to be understood. One should also know that Singapore was at one time under British rule, and the English most often spoken has a definite British and Australian influence in it. Singapore also has many streets and lanes named after many people and places that are British in origin.
I went to the concierge in my hotel and showed him the address. He tried to tell me where he thought the building was located. I then entered a taxi and showed the taxi driver the address and we started off. I was very curious as to where this repair shop was located because I thought I might never have been on that road before. We drove around, and finally, I saw a sign. Suddenly, it dawned on me that the young lady who gave me the address had not spoken as clearly as she could have, and I did not understand her Singaporean English (Singglish) as much as I thought I did. I have often had to interpret for myself what I think a Singaporean is saying. In this case, I was way off. The street was actually not "Abbott" Road, but "Albert" Road. And, the building was a location I knew very well! If one thinks about it, one can see how easy it would be to make such a mistake.
Sometimes we may not be speaking as clearly to others as we think we are speaking. Or, we may not be listening as closely or carefully as we should when others are speaking. In some cases, this may have eternal implications.
"Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath:" --James 1:19.
Jesus said, "Take heed, therefore, how ye hear:" -- Luke 8:18.
SPW
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
What children say...
Recently, my wife and I were eating lunch in an east Indian restaurant (we enjoy Indian food very much!). A family of four entered the restaurant and were seated two tables away from us. There was the father, the mother, and two small children. The youngest child was about two or three years old. But, the child that attracted our attention was a cute 5-year old boy.
We were amused and quite taken by the young tyke's ability to speak so clearly and express himself as he did. But, the thought also entered our minds, "What conversation went on in that family prior to them entering the restaurant?" We could only assume that the boy's parents had warned him about his conduct in public. We could only assume that he had a history of misconduct in public, and that his parents had warned him rather strongly that he should be calm and be happy, rather than to act out, put on a show, or throw a tantrum. And, we thought that his words were a means of letting his parents know that he was really trying his best to behave in public and not get into trouble.
One thing that I have not found amusing over the past few years is the blatant and irreverent use of God's name. I am "sick" of hearing the exasperated, or surprised expression, "Oh, ...My... God!" (with a pause between each word for emphasis). It can be heard on television, radio, and in the movies. It is often heard in public. Such an expression or ejaculation of words is very irreverent and sinful. It is the taking of God's name in vain. Sometimes children say it because they heard an adult say it. I even heard my Indonesian landlord use the expression once in English. Apparently, he had heard it on an American program which was being aired on Indonesian television.
"Oh, listen to the children while they play,
Now ain't it kinda funny what the children say,Skip a rope."
Cargill ends the song with the following refrain:
It's really not very funny, what the children say,
Skip a rope, skip a rope."
Deuteronomy 5:11 states, "Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain."
Jesus taught, "But I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is God's throne:... Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black" Matthew 5:34, 36.
"But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment" Matthew 12:36.
James 5:12 states, "But above all things, my brethren, swear not, neither by heaven, neither by the earth, neither by any other oath: but let your yea be yea; and your nay, nay; lest ye fall into condemnation."
Parents have a serious responsibility to train their children in the way of the Lord, and that includes the matter of speech. "And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," Ephesians 6:4.
The little boy in the Indian restaurant was well-behaved, but he has really given us much food for thought. What are your children seeing and hearing in your home?
SPW
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
In the hospital
Recently I found it necessary to enter an American hospital due to dehydration. The dehydration was caused by severe gastrointestinal problems following (I suppose) the eating of some tainted food.
It is no fun being in a hospital. The doctor gave me a choice of two hospitals to enter. I chose the one where both of my paternal grandparents died. This was done at the suggestion of a family member. Perhaps it was thought that I might undergo the same end? (just kidding). I don't really think so. The advice was given in good faith.
I learned a few things, though, about American medicine and health care (at least in the hospital I entered as a patient).
I became ill and was sick for about 10 hours throughout the night with diarrhea and severe projectile vomiting. The next morning I went to a clinic to see a doctor. I have health insurance, but it does not cover office visits. Although my tongue was clinging to the roof of my mouth and I could barely walk or speak due to weakness and dehydration, I was told that we would have to pay $120 before the doctor would look at me. What a blow that was! My wife wrote the check. The final bill just for that visit was an additional $165.
The doctor found out that I am a missionary to Indonesia. He immediately seemed to want to conclude that I had developed a blood clot as a result of long-term flying, or that I had brought to the USA some exotic Asian "bug." Actually, it was neither. I pretty much knew what the problem was--bad food--from somewhere! I had already been back in the USA a couple of months, and blood clots or exotic Asian "bugs" would have already made themselves apparent long before the time I became ill.
I was given an IV in the doctor's office to help replenish my fluids. The problem was that the nurses in the clinic could not seem to insert an I-V needle into the back of my hand. They stuck me several times. My veins were quite obvious to the naked eye, and it should have been no trouble at all. My wife was trained in nurse's school, and her philosophy is that a nurse gets one try to put in the IV needle, and if she cannot find a vein or botches the job she has to stop. It is possible to give her second chance. But, more than two tries indicates some level of incompetence. Three nurses tried to perform this simple procedure that has been done on me several times in other clinics and hospitals both in the USA and in Asia (with success on the first try). Well, they caused a lot of unnecessary pain. While all this was going on, I looked at my wife; she looked at me, and we both knew what the other was thinking--"One try only... They do not know what they are doing!"
After the IV bag was connected and the contents finally dripped into me, I was taken to the aforementioned hospital. From the start it was clear that not too many so-called professionals knew how to do their job, or they just did not care. If it had not been for my dear wife who stayed by my side and really did the job others were being paid to do, I might have died. My blood pressure dropped dangerously low--and I usually have high blood pressure.
I had been ill for about 18-20 hours before anyone decided to run tests on the contents of my stomach to see just what kind of "bug" was making me so ill. That was also a surprise because it should have been one of the very first tests to do.
I was in the hospital three days and was discharged while I was still sick with some of the same awful symptoms that put me there. That was another puzzle. There were a lot of strange things that happened while I was a patient there that we could not understand, and some of which seemed to go against proper medical practice (we could make a list of about 15-20 matters).
Another puzzle was that I waited about 7 hours or more to be dismissed from the hospital after the doctor told me (at about 6:00 AM) I would be released very soon that day. I was eventually released at about 7:30 PM that evening.
Only one RN acted like she was competent, and she did her best to help me. As I was awaiting the papers for dismissal from the hospital, a nurse's aide came into my room to remove that pesky IV needle (I thought that was primarily the job of an RN, not an aide). The nurse's aide was wearing perfume and bright red nail polish. It should be known that such things as strong perfume and colored nail polish are discouraged for health care workers in hospitals. Anyway, she did not clean the area of the back of my hand where the needle had been inserted. Nor did she wear sterile gloves. She ripped off the tape and instead of pulling the needle out gently backwards from the way it had been inserted into my vein, she lifted it up vertically and pulled UP on it and yanked it out! OH! What pain! Then, she took a piece of balled up cotton she had brought with her into the room--unwrapped and balled up in her bare hand. She slapped the cotton on my hand and put a band-aid on top of it and walked out! When the RN came in I told her about it. She took off the bandage and cotton, cleaned the wound, disinfected it, and properly applied a bandage--thank-you! My hand and arm were swollen and red streaks ran up my arm for several days afterward. I had to do special hot damp cloth therapy on it to reduce the swelling. And, we wonder how so many patients in American hospitals get staph infections!
What was the best part of staying in that hospital--other than leaving it? Getting to eat banana-flavored popsicles when I could not hold anything else down. I am certain that I will soon receive a bill from the hospital, and the expectation will be that I am supposed to pay for less-than-good professional health care.
In Singapore, my experience has been that test results are often received the same or the next day in clinics and hospitals. Doctors take real time with their patients. Money is not the bottom line. And, some doctors actually apologize to their patients without fear of being sued for malpractice. They are really human and humane! They act like they REALLY care, and I think they do.
If I ever move back to the USA one thing I will miss is the very good, even great, health care I have received in Singapore, as contrasted with some of the health care I have received by some practitioners in America. This is not an indictment against all American health care workers or hospitals. It was one stay in one hospital. On the other hand, health care in Indonesia is another story.
SPW
It is no fun being in a hospital. The doctor gave me a choice of two hospitals to enter. I chose the one where both of my paternal grandparents died. This was done at the suggestion of a family member. Perhaps it was thought that I might undergo the same end? (just kidding). I don't really think so. The advice was given in good faith.
I learned a few things, though, about American medicine and health care (at least in the hospital I entered as a patient).
I became ill and was sick for about 10 hours throughout the night with diarrhea and severe projectile vomiting. The next morning I went to a clinic to see a doctor. I have health insurance, but it does not cover office visits. Although my tongue was clinging to the roof of my mouth and I could barely walk or speak due to weakness and dehydration, I was told that we would have to pay $120 before the doctor would look at me. What a blow that was! My wife wrote the check. The final bill just for that visit was an additional $165.
The doctor found out that I am a missionary to Indonesia. He immediately seemed to want to conclude that I had developed a blood clot as a result of long-term flying, or that I had brought to the USA some exotic Asian "bug." Actually, it was neither. I pretty much knew what the problem was--bad food--from somewhere! I had already been back in the USA a couple of months, and blood clots or exotic Asian "bugs" would have already made themselves apparent long before the time I became ill.
I was given an IV in the doctor's office to help replenish my fluids. The problem was that the nurses in the clinic could not seem to insert an I-V needle into the back of my hand. They stuck me several times. My veins were quite obvious to the naked eye, and it should have been no trouble at all. My wife was trained in nurse's school, and her philosophy is that a nurse gets one try to put in the IV needle, and if she cannot find a vein or botches the job she has to stop. It is possible to give her second chance. But, more than two tries indicates some level of incompetence. Three nurses tried to perform this simple procedure that has been done on me several times in other clinics and hospitals both in the USA and in Asia (with success on the first try). Well, they caused a lot of unnecessary pain. While all this was going on, I looked at my wife; she looked at me, and we both knew what the other was thinking--"One try only... They do not know what they are doing!"
After the IV bag was connected and the contents finally dripped into me, I was taken to the aforementioned hospital. From the start it was clear that not too many so-called professionals knew how to do their job, or they just did not care. If it had not been for my dear wife who stayed by my side and really did the job others were being paid to do, I might have died. My blood pressure dropped dangerously low--and I usually have high blood pressure.
I had been ill for about 18-20 hours before anyone decided to run tests on the contents of my stomach to see just what kind of "bug" was making me so ill. That was also a surprise because it should have been one of the very first tests to do.
I was in the hospital three days and was discharged while I was still sick with some of the same awful symptoms that put me there. That was another puzzle. There were a lot of strange things that happened while I was a patient there that we could not understand, and some of which seemed to go against proper medical practice (we could make a list of about 15-20 matters).
Another puzzle was that I waited about 7 hours or more to be dismissed from the hospital after the doctor told me (at about 6:00 AM) I would be released very soon that day. I was eventually released at about 7:30 PM that evening.
Only one RN acted like she was competent, and she did her best to help me. As I was awaiting the papers for dismissal from the hospital, a nurse's aide came into my room to remove that pesky IV needle (I thought that was primarily the job of an RN, not an aide). The nurse's aide was wearing perfume and bright red nail polish. It should be known that such things as strong perfume and colored nail polish are discouraged for health care workers in hospitals. Anyway, she did not clean the area of the back of my hand where the needle had been inserted. Nor did she wear sterile gloves. She ripped off the tape and instead of pulling the needle out gently backwards from the way it had been inserted into my vein, she lifted it up vertically and pulled UP on it and yanked it out! OH! What pain! Then, she took a piece of balled up cotton she had brought with her into the room--unwrapped and balled up in her bare hand. She slapped the cotton on my hand and put a band-aid on top of it and walked out! When the RN came in I told her about it. She took off the bandage and cotton, cleaned the wound, disinfected it, and properly applied a bandage--thank-you! My hand and arm were swollen and red streaks ran up my arm for several days afterward. I had to do special hot damp cloth therapy on it to reduce the swelling. And, we wonder how so many patients in American hospitals get staph infections!
What was the best part of staying in that hospital--other than leaving it? Getting to eat banana-flavored popsicles when I could not hold anything else down. I am certain that I will soon receive a bill from the hospital, and the expectation will be that I am supposed to pay for less-than-good professional health care.
In Singapore, my experience has been that test results are often received the same or the next day in clinics and hospitals. Doctors take real time with their patients. Money is not the bottom line. And, some doctors actually apologize to their patients without fear of being sued for malpractice. They are really human and humane! They act like they REALLY care, and I think they do.
If I ever move back to the USA one thing I will miss is the very good, even great, health care I have received in Singapore, as contrasted with some of the health care I have received by some practitioners in America. This is not an indictment against all American health care workers or hospitals. It was one stay in one hospital. On the other hand, health care in Indonesia is another story.
SPW
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