This is Nadia. A friend, a colleague, and one of the best doctors I’ve ever worked with.
I first met her when we were both working at a Klinik Kesihatan. She had this incredibly bright energy that made you think, “Wow, this girl must be so happy and content.” But as I got to know her, I realised how much pain and responsibility she carried behind that smile.
Her father had passed away. Her mother was in end-stage kidney failure, dependent on regular haemodialysis.
Nadia was the eldest, the only breadwinner in her family.
Every day, after her long hours as a contract medical officer (MO), she would rush to do locum work until 10pm. Then she woud go home, sleep a few short hours, and come back again the next morning. All while quietly carrying the weight of her family’s needs.
When she was finally offered a permanent position, we were overjoyed, like a family member of ours had gotten the call we were all waiting for. But the posting she received was to a hospital setting, which made it almost impossible for her to manage her mother’s care.
She requested to remain in primary care, in the clinic, where office hours gave her just enough flexibility to care for her mother. But her request was not accepted.
Makes you wonder, when we refuse to make room for doctors who want to stay and serve while still holding their families together, then who is the system really serving?
So she stayed on as a contract MO. Year after year.
Until one day, they told her that her time was up. Her contract was not renewed.
I watched as Nadia tried everything to stay in government service, to continue serving the rakyat. She contacted Putrajaya, the Ministry of Health (MOH), the state health department, and specialists, anyone who might be able to help.
Not for money. Not for position. But just for the chance to keep doing the job she loved at the place she could still take care of her mother.
But nothing worked.
Let me be clear, I wouldn’t be writing this if I didn’t believe she was a good doctor. I think she is an excellent and exceptionally good doctor!
Though I had more years in service, there were many things I learned from Nadia. Her compassion. Her patience. Her ability to make every patient feel like they were family.
I’ve seen her stay back after hours just to counsel a patient struggling with uncontrolled diabetes. She would squeeze some time into her packed schedule to make sure that person got back on track, made follow-up calls, arranged suitable appointments, and involved family members in the process.
And it worked. Her patients improved. Her counselling techniques were powerful because they came from a place of truth. She would talk about her own mother’s battle with kidney failure, and how important early control was. That kind of empathy can’t be taught.
Today is a heartbreaking day. Not just for those of us who worked with her, not just for Nadia herself. But for the MOH!
Because you lost someone who truly wanted to stay. A doctor who wanted to serve.
Someone who still had so much more to give. And you couldn’t find a place for her.
While so many are leaving, here was someone who begged to remain, and still, was let go.
That is your loss, MOH, and a painful one.
She didn’t ask for power, position, or privilege. Just to keep saving lives while caring for the only parent she had left. If that’s not enough for an exception, what is?
We will move on. Nadia will move on and thrive and shine, because whichever organisation she will work for would be lucky and blessed to get such a great doctor. But this ridiculous thing should never have happened.
You didn’t just lose a doctor. You lost the kind of doctor every patient prays for. And that should haunt you.
If this is how we treat the ones who care the most, then maybe the system itself is what needs treatment.
Republished with permission from Dr Naveen Kumar Gobinathan’s Facebook post.
- This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of CodeBlue.
