John pushed past the horde of reporters and walked through the hospital entrance door and trudged to his car which was parked at the ‘reserved for senior staff’ zone. Once in his car, he revved up the engine and shot out of the premises of Ren Ci hospital. He caught a glimpse of the banner ‘Ren Ci wishes all a good day’ hung up on poles at the exit of the hospital and he laughed bitterly.
So much for having a good day, he thought. For the record, he had argued with the head of the Research department, had been given a tongue’s lashing by his superior and finally, he had fallen out with his colleague. He had found out that his superior had recognized ‘Prozac’, a medication that he had newly invented for reversing the effects of Down’s syndrome, as the sole work of his colleague, even though he had put in the most efforts into it. Outraged, he confronted Tom, who blatantly claimed that it was him who had come up with the idea and therefore, it was solely his work. John, incensed, had dragged him to his superior, only to find that his superior took the side of Tom. By then, John had felt as exasperated as the three little pigs when they were attacked by the big bad wolf, and unjustified. Not wanting to see his work to be stolen unfairly, he turned to his last resort, the head of the Research Department, Mr. Tang. In the end, it was useless.
In the privacy of his car, John cursed and swore and thumped violently on the steering wheel. He hated himself for allowing Tom to sweet-talk him to letting him be part of the project. Perhaps he had been too naïve to believe that his job as a neurologist was ever so great and fulfilling. For the past five years of his decade-old career, he had finally managed accomplished this tiny bit of success, the invention of ‘Prozac’, but now even that would be another feather added to his colleague’s hat, not his. In another aspect, he had thought that his job as a research neurologist would save many, but throughout his career, he had barely heard of any miracles happening. Now at forty-five, he was beginning to see his job as merely his livelihood, as his work.
Once he reached home, he settled himself in front of the television.
“Turning the spotlight back to Singapore, a girl from America has just successfully undergone through an operation at Ren Ci hospital to raise her I.Q. of a shocking seventy-five to that of a normal one hundred. Before, the seventeen-year-old needed help to go to the toilet and could only mumble monosyllables. Doctors believe that she will be able to start her normal stream education in her homeland. This success was made possible by senior research neurologist Mr. John Tan, who was the one to develop the miracle chemical to stimulate brain cell growth,”
John smiled, instantly forgetting the injustice he had suffered earlier on. Nothing could beat this. His works had been recognized.
At that moment, he felt like the happiest man on earth, with the best work on earth- the job of bringing hope to mankind.
Wow wow, ‘neurologist’ again? I never knew that before JC, I had thought anything of Medicine. What’s this? I’m befuddled by myself.