Graphic: Vecteezy/Giuseppe Ramos
How many of us, as teenagers, had the responsibility of taking our ailing parents to the hospital for follow-ups?
Perhaps, not that many.
I had to wait for hours with my mum, who had suffered a stroke, to see a doctor in a government clinic. Unfortunately, the busy doctor hardly spent a minute seeing my mum, although we spent half a day for a consultation.
During those challenging times, I made a personal vow: If I ever became a doctor, I pledged to arrive early at the clinic, devote extra time to my patients, and strive to ensure they left with smiles of satisfaction after our encounter.
True to my commitment, I upheld this practice until the very last day of my career.
I used to assist my adopted brother to deliver tiffin carrier meals to the first Malaysian state surgeon, Peter Vanniasingham, during his operation days. Witnessing him, blood-stained in his OT gown, receiving meals alongside junior doctors, left a lasting impression on me.
On that day, I resolved that if I pursued medicine, I would become a surgeon, inspired by the aura and authority radiating from him.
In the late 1970s and 80s, there were limited government medical colleges in Malaysia. In a system where only the top-performing students in Higher Secondary School exams gained entry to medical colleges, I found myself outside that elite group. Undeterred, I determined to finance my own medical studies.
Witnessing my hemiplegic mum and my father, who recently passed away due to myocardial infarction (heart attack), fuelled me to embark on a journey to India. It was a herculean task with huge financial constraints as I had to rely on my brothers to finance my studies. I held a steadfast belief that it was the sole path to realising my dream of becoming a surgeon.
Upon completion of my medical studies, I was posted as a house officer to Kota Baru Hospital, Kelantan. I was under Dato Mr Kandasami Palayan's supervision, a surgeon who dedicated his life to surgery. I gleaned valuable lessons from him, particularly in matters of the surgeon's dress code and the significance of punctuality. Despite my initial rebellious tendencies as a typical junior doctor, those lessons left a lasting impact on me.
Later, I got the chance of a lifetime to work with the late Mr Ismail Ahmed at Penang GH as a surgical officer. He had personally trained very few surgeons in his lifetime. I was one of the lucky ones and I am proud to have been trained by him. My surgical skills are essentially a reflection of his teachings. His distinctive method of instruction laid the foundation for my surgical journey.
This approach instilled confidence in my abilities and performance when it came to conducting surgeries.
Later, I joined the masters programme. However, due to overconfidence and headweight, I felt I was too smart for the programme, so I resigned from the programme. Well, it was a blunder as I had to pursue FRCS (Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of England), which was like finding a needle in a haystack. When I found the "needle" after numerous attempts, I decided to be a government surgeon as the sky was the limit in honing my surgical skills.
Upon completion of my FRCS, I was posted as a surgeon to Seberang Jaya Hospital. My gazettement in 1998 marked the beginning of an 18-month period as an FRCS surgeon, during which I found myself functioning as a surgical officer, handling surgical responsibilities with no direct supervision.
The strain of being a single surgeon and doing general surgery, from house officer, encouraged me to subspecialise. I had to choose between the two fields which I was interested in, either cardiothoracic or paediatric surgery. I chose the latter because of my wonderful mentor, Mr Thameem Ansari, the first paediatric surgeon in Penang GH.
My whole family moved to KL, and we stayed close to GHKL to avoid getting caught in traffic jams. Unfortunately, I was unable to complete paediatric surgery due to reasons beyond my control with my two growing children. I decided to forgo subspecialty training to focus on general surgery and my family.The lesson I learnt here was that if one door closes, another door will open.
I came back to Seberang Jaya Hospital in 2000. It was a terrifying process as I was away from general surgery. However, as the saying goes, once you have learned how to cycle, you can forever cycle, and my skills and confidence shone as a single surgeon doing 365 days' calls and surgical work.
Throughout this period, I encountered Dato Mr Ragupathy Naidu, chief surgeon at Alor Setar Hospital, who consistently motivated and encouraged me. He inspired me to support and guide my junior colleagues to excel beyond my own achievements.
After several years, Mr Imran Khalid joined Seberang Jaya Hospital as a senior surgeon, allowing me to shift my focus back to surgery and patient follow-ups, as he managed administrative tasks. We formed a successful team, reminiscent of a big brother and little brother dynamic. Mr Imran taught me to remain calm in surgical administration, emphasising the need to control my temper, using the proverb "A pot of milk is ruined by a drop of poison".
The above mentors played pivotal roles in shaping me into the surgeon I am today. While they were my teachers and idols, my biggest inspirations are my academic children (trainee doctors) and the supporting staff, who have elevated surgical service to greater heights. I've learned righteousness, honesty, firmness, humility, and care from my colleagues and patients.
As my surgical journey reaches its final station, I am humbly stepping off the Surgical Service Train, entrusting the baton to the team to continue and savour the journey.
