A couple may still have differing opinions on what is deemed successful or fulfilling despite living under the same roof for so many years. I am aware that my idea of self-actualisation may not be on the same page as my husband’s. It’s fine. He is entitled to his opinion. I just hope that we still get to be in the same book. Better still, in the same chapter with our unique storyline.

COVID-19 taught me about the fragility of life as a human being and the majestic power of our Creator. Just when you thought you’ve got your life put together, an unexpected force decides to come by and shatter everything down. I bet no one even imagined that pilots could lose their jobs and that delivery riders suddenly become important people in your life. People begin to discover the vast capabilities of technology. Lessons could still be taught outside the four walls of the classroom. Healthcare could be delivered over a phone call. Income could be generated using ideas and an internet connection. It was also a turning point when people began to look out for themselves, more than others, under the guise of protecting personal boundaries and mental health.

The face of altruism is changing.

After COVID-19, I began to have thoughts of having an early retirement. This idea became more serious for the last 2 years. There wasn’t a specific moment that accounted to this decision. More like an accumulation of small events that led to me thinking, “is life worth living like this?”. Things like signing the SSPA, increasing work burden, missing relatives wake, missing the kids special awards moments, not joining family holidays etc. Attending to work diligently does not score me extra points or privileges. It is just work but taking annual leaves come with a quota. And we cannot freely leave our consultation room for family related affairs unless someone is terribly sick or dying. It is something I have learned to accept as someone working in the public healthcare services. We live to help others more than ourselves. Or so, I had thought before. Gradually, the thought of putting strangers before myself were slowly dissipating. I still care for my colleagues but not so much for my patients. Patients nowadays never listen to expert advice but remain a coward in owning up to the bad decisions they make in relation to their health. They just want to blame other people for that. SISPAA has become a favourite vocabulary. Yet, we remain quiet. We are not allowed to fight and defend ourselves. We serve the rakyat. Hence, our personal time and sometimes dignity does not fully belong to us.

Lately, I just don’t find medicine fascinating anymore. Whenever a colleague comes across an intriguing case, I’d feign interest. Although to be honest, I don’t really care what the ECG looks like, or if the patient is admitted. I don’t get excited about going to medical courses. I used to be the one searching for weekend conferences to ‘learn more’ about other things. Nowadays, I just try to avoid everything at all cost. Yet I still encourage others to attend. Sometimes I do reflect on this sudden change. Am I actually depressed or am I burnt out? I still turn up for work on time and complete relevant tasks. I still counsel patients and care for them. But I find that I am not as passionate as I was before. Prior to this, I’d get really upset when I see a patient with uncontrolled diabetes. Nowadays, if my advice is dismissed, I don’t really care anymore. Although I couldn’t really say it to their face, my inner self is mumbling ,”then, maybe you should just default the next appointment and just die”. Of course, I get alarmed at myself for having such devilish thoughts. Which is why, before I get less empathetic and lackadaisical in my work performance – aiding death in the process, I should plan my exit.

In short, I wanted OUT.

I am working towards that. My early retirement plan. Initially, it was for 2028. Maybe or maybe, I could bring it forward to 2027.