Last Wednesday, a nurse from Tan Tock Seng Hospital (TTSH) wrote in to the Forum page of The Straits Times to complain that her gynaecologist at Mount Elizabeth Hospital did not want to see her when she arrived to keep an appointment with him. 

The nurse said that she was very upset and “felt discriminated against because I worked with TTSH.” Apparently, her gynae had told her it was because of Sars that he wanted to protect his other patients. She went on to say that when some of her relatives avoided her, she understood that their fear arose either out of ignorance or inaccurate information.

But, she said she was appalled and shocked by “the fact that I was denied medical care by a highly trained specialist who fully understands the implications of Sars.” She then quoted the Prime Minister as having said that “life could be lived as normally as possible” and added “perhaps that advice is meant for those who are not TTSH staff.”

I disagree with this nurse’s view that, in that instance, her gynaecologist had discriminated against her just because she worked at TTSH. On the contrary, I think the gynae did the right thing. I venture to add that because the specialist fully understood the implications of Sars, he was right to have refused to see her then. We are all adults and can take care of ourselves. However, we need to realise that there are yet-to-be-born children in the wombs of those would-be mothers frequenting the centre the nurse had visited.

I would have thought that the nurse who I am sure is trained to think of probable scenarios should have spared a thought for the other pregnant women visiting the centre and instead asked her gynae for advice before she stepped into the centre in the first place. Then, the whole ugly episode would not have taken place at all. The gynae, I am sure, would have made special arrangements to see her.
 
Another reader of The Straits Times wrote in to the Forum page last Saturday to say he was “appalled at the behaviour of the gynaecologist in question.” This reader continued, “The Health Minister has said that Tan Tock Seng Hospital is safe. Isn’t it ironic that health-care professionals should be alarmed when a staff member from TTSH visits a clinic?”

Doesn’t the reader realise that it wasn’t just another clinic, but a specialist centre for pregnant women? There are two lives at risk here. Of course, we can always say the mother, being an adult, should be able to take care of herself, but what of the unborn foetus who is at a much higher risk?

The management of Parkway Group Healthcare, which has responsibility for Mt Elizabeth Hospital, rightly replied last Saturday that “the decision as to whether to see a patient is left to the doctor.” 
Much has been said about discriminations against TTSH staff and some of what is said are true. But, before we start quoting the PM’s words, let us put things in the right perspective first.

I join others in support of the unsung heroes and heroines of the medical profession, particularly those at TTSH, battling Sars. But, alarm bells must continue to sound at specialist clinics for pregnant women when health-care workers and others known to be at a higher risk for Sars present themselves there. This is to alert doctors who may wish to take additional precautions. 

Just when I am relishing being alive on this good earth exactly 45 years after my birth, along comes a stark reminder that this fragile thing called life may not be sweet-tasting to some others who would rather end it all at a tender age than choose to grow old.

I was jolted into silence last Tuesday when I heard on television a Primary Six boy had jumped to his death that morning. He was a pupil of Canberra Primary School in Sembawang.

It brought back memories of another suicide which happened in 2000. A 16-year-old student of Victoria School fell to his death after a quarrel at home. Apparently, he had rushed out of the flat into the corridor and plunged to his death. It was the June holidays then.

It appears the young contemplate suicide at an age when they should be enjoying the privilege of being young. I use that word - privilege - because on hindsight I now realise how much I miss those care-free times and yearn, albeit in vain, to relive that phase of my life again.

Is something wrong with the system nowadays? Are our students stressed out by the workload at school? Two days ago, some readers wrote to the Forum Page of The Straits Times. One of them, Dr Winston Lee, said of the boy, “We should take stock of the pressures he faced and find ways to help other children in the same situation.”

Dr Lee continued, “Being a child in Singapore is not much fun; today’s children do not have the opportunity to lead a full life. The pressures of coping with the overwhelming demands of an overloaded syllabus will definitely take a heavy toll on the overall development and well-being of the younger generation.”

Another reader, Dr Thomas Soo, said, “Alarm bells must ring when children die tragic deaths… Something must be very wrong with our society if we allow teenage deaths to continue in our developed society.”

One thing’s certain - more young people are contemplating suicide. According to the Samaritans of Singapore (SOS), children and teens make up about 10 per cent of those who attempt suicide here. In 1999, 15 teens aged between 10 and 19 committed suicide. In 2000, there were 21. And in 2001, 28 teenage suicides were recorded.

In his book Too Young to Die- An Asian Perspective on Youth Suicide, Singapore’s first private psychiatrist Dr B. L. Chia stresses that suicide is personal and that suicide in the young results in great horror and disbelief for both the family members as well as society.

I read the Chinese daily Lian He Zao Bao’s report on the boy’s suicide. His suicide note was appended. What disturbed me most was my realisation that the boy had found peace in his decision to leave this world. He left instructions for paper offerings, among which are a large house, a car with a driver, some servants, food snacks and lots of money, to be burnt for him. Let me quote the concluding part of his last words:

“…promise me not to cry except at my funeral or else hee…hee… and be happy for it’s my last request and remember ok?”

Perhaps, the time is ripe for a review of the young suicide trends.