RAmblings...

I have a rather bad habit of expecting to be treated by others the way I treat them. A reversal of the Confucian 'treat others as you would like to be treated'. But as we all know (or rather as we all should know) lovely little quotes such as the one above is regurgitated repeatedly because the world is not the garden of Eden, and we all need reminders to tell ourselves that we should be empathic, and actually give a damn about someone else's thoughts and feelings. Now, if only Eve didn't eat that horribly red, juicy apple...

Since I started uni, I can think of only 2 events that have made me really lose my temper. One was when my ex-gf and I had an argument revolving around my friendship with another girl, and I wasn't even mad at her but rather at the girl who was the 'batu api' in the situation. And another involves my elder sis' attitude towards my parents, which I can't elaborate upon without getting pissed off.

On a personal level, I make it a point to be nice and calm and friendly to everyone I meet. Whether or not I actually engange in a pleasant conversation is largely determined by how close I am to that person, along with whether or not that person deserves to be treated in a nasty way (the answer is a resounding 'no' in most cases). I'm lucky in being able to switch my PR skills 'on' and 'off' whenever I need to, along with my mood, so I can be cursing my consultant at a given time, and I'll be able to talk about the pleasant changes of the weather to my patient during the very next minute. This happens all the more frequently when I'm with my friends, folks who (I believe) should be treated in the best manner of all.

And why do I do this? Partly out of empathy, but the truth is rather less altruistic - I have this little karma-like belief, where I hope that I'll eventually be treated in a manner similar to that which I exhibit. That's why I give up my seat to old folks on the bus, that's why I don't bitch about others behind their back (unless they've done me a wrong turn, in which case I'll be bitching 'till that supervolcano at Yellowstone erupts), that's why I smile at others when all I want to do is wrap my hands around that person's neck and end his/her misery (or rather my misery) and that's why I share things with others (and I'm talking about emotional sharing rather than actual physical nonsense) - in the hope that I'll be shown the same amount of respect/trust in return.

The problem with expectations is that you're bound to be disappointed. And that breeds a certain amount of resentment. Although it tends to be a transient event, it happens anyway and I'm afraid of slowly and steadily being the very cynic that I don't want to be. There has been many a time when I wanted to shout at a person who has shouted at me, wanting to see her reaction as she watches someone who has always been nice to her let loose with the excuse of 'sorry, it's been a bad day'. After all, why bother being nice when it's seen as a sign of weakness and if it's taken for granted? Why bother being sensitive and caring when it only serves to invite tiresome jokes of homosexuality? Then again, someone did point out once upon a time that I'm no martyr.

The answer to those questions is that for every one person who chooses to take you for granted, there's another one who's eternally grateful for the smile you so generously gave them. There's always going to be someone who'll always remember you for being there when they needed a shoulder to cry on, someone who's grateful for the love you showered on them even when your own two shoulders were weary with the weight of your own burdens. And it's a fact (unfortunately) that even if someone's rude or bitchy to you, you don't actually know what it feels like to walk in their shoes, and there's no way of knowing if you'd behave in the same way if you were in their position.

Yesterday was a case in point - a lady came in for an ultrasound scan at the Maternity Day Unit, and she was one of the grumpiest person you'd ever come across. I had the 'honour' of keeping her company and spent a considerable amount of time thinking to myself how ungrateful some folks are for the care that's given to them.

This continued until I found out that her baby had some sort of congenital abnormality, and that totally changed my opinion of her. I chatted with her, and actively seeked to get to know her better and we ended up having a rather pleasant conversation. She went on to talk about how she's been praying for a miracle and hoping that her baby will turn out ok. Unfortunately, the scan did not detect a fetal heart sound (i.e. the baby she was carrying died) and when she was told, she literally wailed and burst into tears. All I could do was hand her tissues and hold her hand. I'd like to think that I made a difference, but I seriously doubt it. I can't even begin to imagine what she's going through at the moment, and all I can do is pray to God that she'll get through this tragedy in one piece.