Case Study: How to throw a bitch fit

You are to read the following case study very carefully before you attempt the questions that follow. Answer each question in continuous prose. Each answer should not exceed 250 words. You have 48 hours to complete this assignment.

You should type out your answers on A4 or Letter sized paper, 1 inch margins all round, 12 point Times New Roman font. You may submit your answers online in the comments column following this post.

You are reminded not to repeat your points in different answers. You are reminded of the need for clear and concise writing.

Scenario

I was shopping for a new rice cooker when a Chinese PRC woman started kicking up a big fuss at the store.

She accused the service staff of being rude to her; some snarky remark was involved, or so it seemed. Ms PRC shouted at the service staff for not answering her question on how good a pot she was interested in was and also pointed out that the side comment that was made about her type was not appropriate.

Ms PRC then started screaming. In addition, she took to banging and kicking the items at the store.

Questions

1. What did Ms PRC do wrong?

2. What should Ms PRC have done?

Reflections

1. If you were Ms PRC, how would you have reacted in this situation so you can extract maximum benefit from the stall?

2. Do you think it is ethical to extract maximum benefit from the stall? Why?

Role Play

1. Imagine you are a shopper in the store who thinks one of the two women is out of line. Write a retort to show how you could take the side one of the women and start hurling insults back at the "bitch".

2. If you are the manager of the store, explain how will you resolve this issue.

Higher Order Thinking Skills

1. In our social context where we are trying to attract foreign talent to contribute to our workforce and population, how do you think you will help these foreign talent integrate themselves into our society?

2. Do you think soft skills, such as child bearing, child rearing, fighting, quarrelling, screaming, shouting, accusing and insistently talking loudly everywhere, should be part of the criteria for admitting foreign talent? How would one test such skills?

Smells

There is something about the overnight sweaty tee-shirt smell that puts me off entirely. In this climate where 100% humidity is not unusual and temperatures of above 30 degrees Celcius are commonplace, being near someone in those shirts is enough to make you make a turn and remove yourself out of the smell-itory.

I would be more tolerant it were some sweaty guy who had busted his gut working at some job site for the entire day. I would even let it go - though it might cause me my last consumed meal - if it were on some worker whose sweat smelled bad in addition to his/her unique brand of BO.

But these guys in those offending shirts are browsing at a book sale in the middle of some industrial estate dressed in their "pyjamas". To make things worse, they had their wives and children with them. I wonder how they can put up with these smells.

Do personal hygiene and smell courtesy mean nothing at all today? Is a little consideration too much to ask?

Killing Me Softly...

Spent about two hours in the Changi General Hospital's Accident and Emergency Department's Observation Room when I went over for follow-up treatment last Friday. Immediately on entering the room, I was plonked on an empty bed. There was a patient on my left (Bed 7) and an empty bed on my right (Bed 5). No prizes for correctly guessing for my bed number.

Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.

Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.

I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...

The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.

Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.

Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.

* * *

"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.

"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.

"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.

"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.

"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.

"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."

Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.

"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."

The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.

* * *

"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."

Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...

The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.

"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."

I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)

"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.

Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.

Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"

A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...

* * *

I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.

Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.

Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.

On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.

Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.

"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."

"Do you have relatives with you?"

"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"

"About 1 hour."

"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."

In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.

Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.

As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.

Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.

* * *

1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.

"This patient looks all right."

"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."

"Ok, let me call Radiology."

29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?

"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."

The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.

At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.

I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.

Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.

If you want to die in debt...

This is the unsolicited perspective of an outsider looking in. I will accept your views on the matters but I am not necessarily able or willing to discuss all of them.

One thing that strikes me as rather peculiar to the US is the extensive use of credit cards. Almost every facility in the US accepts credit. People pay for parking with their credit cards, they pay for metro card top-ups, train tickets, small item dispensers, shopping... Just about anything can be paid for by credit cards.

It is a pretty worrying trend, if you ask me. Few people are good at keeping their finances in shipshape. Most people tend to squander their money away, swiping their cards at their purchases thinking that they are able to well-afford the service or the item when they don't.

I paid for most of my shopping with cash this time around. I reckon there was no point keeping dollars any raking up a card bill. So what if there were frequent flyer points given for the expenses? With the economy that bad, the airline is cutting back on capacity. What happens then is that you've got the points but they hell have no free seats.

The worst of the financial storm seems to have passed. But my US friends and I share the common perception that the current fiasco was resolved in a way that it felt more like a blimp in the larger scheme of things - giving the impression that this was a one-off anomaly - than a deep puddle of shit, which requires new sanitation lines and facilities to handle.

We agreed that the rut should be allowed to last a year or two, let the market really and truly correct itself, let the perpetrators go off with punishment bruises to remind them to behave, and let the people have time to reflect on their own actions.

Just last night, when the ad nauseum airing of the first series episodes of Boston Legal ended on hotel TV, paid commercials came on. Among them was for a real estate auction for housing properties in the northeastern regions. Man, I could afford those houses if the other buyers do not bid me out of my range. And they look like pretty nice houses too. Even better, the auction company is helping buyers pre-qualify for bank loans. Er...

Immediately today, I saw a news claiming that the housing market seems to have turned a corner because prices have fallen far enough.This is a self-fulfilling prophesy game that some powers that be are playing. And if people fall for the housing trap again...

Recuperation

It's week 2 of being officially off all work. During this period, I have gone swimming, gone for long walks, cooked up one storm, watched a lot of television, slept a lot.

I guess I'm servicing a debt of some sort. Few people can imagine how tired their bodies are until they can finally take a breather (without money worries). Retirement is way too late. By the time one waits for retirement, one's body is crippled; it is ravaged beyond repair, waiting to be condemned.

I begin to see the wonders of a time out half way into a person's career. Many people wait for something tragic to take stock of their lives. I take stock every day. Especially when you live a somewhat tragic life anyhow.

Ok, I'm a drama-mama but hey, I've a right to live my kind of life. I'm not a pest to society. In fact, I contribute by passing on knowledge. I share my joys and over here, I talk about my life and how things should be lived.

One of the bloggers I read, BHD, talks about his life and each and every one of his blog posts end with some kind of urging to tell people life is short, do something they should or deserve. He is a well-balanced man. Many other people whose blogs I read also have this trait except that they have been unconsciously or subconsciously tacit about it.

Writing a blog is an exercise where one uses or abuses words to restore balance in their lives. Logophiles or wordsmiths, you call them. Just like people swim, paint, dress up, go to high teas or even go for retail therapy, they are doing something that they hope can restore balance in their lives. Some people I know do more than one of those activities.

Alas, there could be adverse effects: some people shop too much, for instance. But such extremes also suggest that these people's lives are much worse than they would admit. Neither would we cut them the slack they need to find a balance. So, in their own time and space, they need to find their means of restoring that balance.

While work and money are important, keeping oneself sane is of a higher priority.

Life is short: Live it like my bud, BHD.

Free China Warmth

Bought a quilt from Ikea just before Chinese New Year (mid Jan) to fit into the new quilt cover. The main reason was the northeast monsoon was a little cold, especially in the night, when the chill seemed to penetrate right into your bones.

As the weather became warmer and more humid, I decided that the quilt was no longer a necessity. Took the quilt and the cover out for a wash on Wednesday and completed doing laundry today. I like to soak the clothes to remove all smell and dirt. The quilt was washed according to the instructions on the label - gentle wash, low tumble dry. I also saw it was made in China.

Alas, the mesh covering of the quilt was tore as I removed it from the clothes dryer.

I did not see any damage when the quilt was first fitted into the cover, during or after the wash, and before I put it into the dryer. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to tell if it was torn because dry quilt was fluffy and everything was "huge and white, clean and bright."

The tear was not structural. One would expect to see the expanded herring bone structure of the knits if indeed the mesh covering was overstretched. But it wasn't. There were two holes, which I can best attribute to material fatigue. The mesh was constructed using iffy materials and the manufacturers probably expected the guarantees to run out when the damage is seen.

Took the torn quilt, marched to Ikea and got a refund. When giving the refund, the service counter guy reminded that such items had to be done in this way and that, giving stricter conditions that was prescribed by the label on the item. Looks like there is a deeper problem than this.

Moral of the story for Ikea: Outsource to China by all means; screw your own bottomlines.

As the quilt was returned, I reminded Ikea of their other product, a towelette, also from China, which was padded with small "cotton balls" to make it fluffy. But in the end, the balls came off during the laundry cycle and my entire laundry load was rendered useless because the balls stuck to the entire load. Some of my whites turned slightly greenish.

Moral of the story for consumers: If you can tolerate nonsense and have lots of time, buy the Chinese items. Quickly use and make sure they are spoilt by the end of the first use (and before the 100 day guarantee) and then return to Ikea to get your money back. Remember to stress that that was the first use.

I didn't expect free warmth to be most heartwarming. :)

If you really need to do it...

Movies in my mind

I've been getting odd dreams. I don't usually dream much. I rarely dream, if you ask me.

But I've been getting very realistic dreams. They are not nightmares. They are just that - movies in my mind.

I can't remember what I had dreamt of but I know that I had had dreams and they were very vivid, very well scripted and interesting.

I also know I am terribly tired.

Ten Hours

That's how much sleep I had yesterday. I feel so much more awake this morning.

I can almost bet you the other fallacy is the decrease in libido as one ages. Explain the need for viagra and the term "dirty old man" if otherwise!

Age and Sleep

I always under the impression that as one gets older, one needs less sleep. That had been my understanding since 20 years ago.

But it is not happening to me!

I am older now. And I've never stopped needing at least 10 hours of sleep to be fully awake and functional.

The sleep loanshark has probably run out of pigs' head to hang at my door to intimidate me into paying. I bet you I'm just going to go into hibernation mode if this sleep deprivation is not going to get addressed.

Unfortunately, Bangkok is so dangerous now and KL too. Sigh.

Do you think it gives me an orgasm?

Went back for a second acupuncture treatment for the bust back yesterday. The second time in two days.

And after the acupuncturist nagged at me that I am visiting too frequently, when I went to collect my meds, the pharmacist gave me another earful about not coming twice in two days for meds and acupuncture, should at most visit twice or thrice a week for such treatment yah dah yah dah yah dah.

Hello! First, the physician on the first visit gave me flu meds, which if you do not know, will not address the bust back. Anyway, the meds you had dispensed are 2/3 done, since I went last night. You know - 3 days' med contains 9 doses. By last night, I'm 5 doses done. Ok, I'm 6 doses done. I took a double for my first dose, as I usually do for Chinese meds. And the remaining meds are going to run out today - don't worry, I won't waste any medicine - so, what's your problem?

It's not as though I am such a pain seeker that getting jabbed, electro-stimulated through needles and a harsh post acupuncture massage is going to give me an orgasm!

* * *

The Age, 27 June 2008
Craig Platt

European budget carrier Ryanair has taken its cheeky reputation to new levels, with chief executive officer Michael O'Leary suggesting business class passengers would receive free oral sex on flights.

O'Leary made the saucy remarks during a press conference in Germany about Ryanair's Trans-Atlantic flights.

Explaining that Ryanair's long-haul flights would feature a business class that went against Ryanair's typical low-budget ethos, O'Leary remarked that "in economy it will be very cheap fares, say 10 Euros, and in business class it will be bed and blowjobs".

While O'Leary's remark was obviously a joke, he repeated the controversial comment and wanted it translated for the journalists.

"In business class," he said, "it will all be free - including the blowjobs."

He then asked the translator the German word for oral sex. After being told there wasn't one, he remarked "terrible sex life in Germany".

I recall the European airlines I've flown before. I'm going to claim that I suffer from a serious bout of amnesia here about my experience but I am going to conclude that I don't think I will be excited at all to fly on Ryanair's business class, much less get me an orgasm.

* * *

More things that won't hit the mark:

- Oil hits US$140 as Libya warns of production cuts.

- E. Coli in tomatoes, beef; salmonella in other things, except money in my pocket.

- Singapore raises pump prices the third time in a month despite respite in oil prices.

- Rates for electricity going up.

There, go figure.

"Some days the balls don't bounce where you want them to bounce or they don't land where you want them to land." - Maria Sharapova, after being beaten 6-2, 6-4 in the second round of Wimbledon by the 20-year-old Alla Kudryavtseva, who is ranked 152 places beneath her and has previously won only four matches this year.

Call me bitchy...

Interestingly, there was too much bee hoon (rice noodles) compared to laksa gravy at the promotion treat today. Hard to eat plain, dry rice noodles without the gravy!

And there was really not quite enough food. For instance, the yam ring ran out before most of us managed to get any.

But as the vice principal said, "We thank Lord for providing the feast we are going to have despite the global shortage of food yadah yadah yadah." So, apparently, we should be happy that there is food at all. However...

Eh, I think the 20 promotees paid for the meal lah!

Gahmen also keeps 7 years' worth of activity logs

Japanese official demoted for logging more than 780,000 hits on porn sites
AP - Saturday, May 3 TOKYO -

A Japanese civil servant was demoted for logging more than 780,000 hits on pornographic Web sites on his office computer over nine months, an official said Friday.

The man, a Kinokawa city government employee in western Japan, visited porn sites from June 2007 to February 2008, city official Tomiko Waki said. The man's name was withheld.

City officials said the number of hits discovered on his computer's internal log was so high in part because one click on certain types of pornographic sites registers multiple hits.

Despite his frequent porn viewing, none of his colleagues noticed his activities, which he apparently conducted throughout the workday.

"Each desk is set apart from each other," Waki said, adding that the man logged 170,000 hits on porn sites in July alone.

The man's supervisors discovered his extensive porn site visits after his computer became infected with a virus, prompting officials to examine his Web browser's history.

Along with the demotion, he received a 20,000 yen (US$190; �122) monthly pay cut, Waki said.

Is Hell Necessarily a Bad Place?

I wonder what hell is like for a celibate baddie.

Do you think his punishment would be non-stop forced orgies?

I just can't get this out of my head now.

Four Basic Needs

What are your 4 basic needs?

I do not mean for elementary survival. You may assume that those are a given. At this stage of your life, what are your 4 basic needs?

My 4 basic needs at this point in time are: time, space, liberty to pursue my dreams and a rich old dying datin.

Double Whammy

Guess what? While battling the aching back and painful inner thighs, I came to my apartment lobby to realise that the only lift serving the 25 storey block of flats was OUT OF ORDER!

@#$*!

One other lift was being upgraded to serve residents on level 25 - the lifts used to call on each floor up to level 24.

So I had to climb 19 storeys up.

What luck!