I've always been pretty darn frustrated about the poor and the needy (this word, I feel, is quite pejorative). I am often overwhelmed / helpless, that my pathetic attempts to help a few people will never ever be enough to help the sad little aunties and uncles who roam the streets of Singapore and have no roof over their heads (the CPF was only
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I remember, 6 years ago, marching tirelessly every single Saturday for months, standing in the blazing sun for what seemed like infinity (and only being able to wriggle my toes to stay alive), in the Padang. I felt my minute self was important, I felt that marching in a contingent on National Day was my contribution as a humble citizen of Singapore
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We are forever presenting patients to our colleagues, almost never questioning the mechanisms and motivations that permeate these oral exchanges-and sometimes send them awry. By some ancient right we assume authority to retell the patient's story at the bedside, not in our own words but in a highly stylized medical code: "Mrs Dalloway is a 51-year-
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