What if we are merely triaging?
2003 was my first interaction with the term "triage"
SARS, or severe acute respiratory syndrome, hit Singapore really hard, and some university friends and I signed up as part-timers in Kandang Kerbau Hospital to help with triage. N95 mask, gloves, gown, check. We did all we can to ease the additional load that the hospital was facing. This went on for a few months before SARS got fully eradicated from our country.
But this recollection isn't about today's ongoing "living with endemic COVID"; rather, the concept of triaging as a practice invoked when acute care cannot be provided for lack of resources.
I've been the recipient of ghosting - be it through dating apps, dates, even colleagues whom you thought were friendly and trusted enough to not display such behaviour but they end up ignoring your legit work messages.
Often, the first question that pops up in my head is "what did I do?" There's a lot to unpack in that knee jerk reaction (which I'm still working on, damn you people pleaser medha), but I realise that if we were to put on a compassionate lens, what if these people were triaging with their limited capacities, and in these messy times, no one is as mentally strong given that it has been a global wear and tear across the years?
In Erica Dhawan's "Ignoring a Text Message or Email Isn't Always Rude. Sometimes It's Necessary" she explains:
“Being 'triaged' might not feel much better than being ghosted if you have an urgent question for your boss, client or colleague — I’ve been on that side of the interaction, too. But it’s at least more realistic, relatable and human.”
In an era when we understand more and more the importance of rest and time away from screens, triaging can be necessary for our peace of mind and relationships with the people in our lives: When we’re on vacation. When it’s after 7 p.m. When we’re at the dinner table. When we’re meditating or exercising. If you don’t reply immediately to a message during one of those times, don’t apologize. Just reply when you can. Or don’t.
And if you are the sender, and you really do need an answer to that question, don't be shy about sending a polite follow-up. There's a strong chance the person who triaged your previous note might be grateful for a second chance to connect.
Tell me what you really feel
Feedback is important, and the timing of giving feedback and phrasing of feedback matters. This, we know. But how many of us really take the effort to take such constructive actions, instead of sweeping things under the rug and avoiding working with someone you prefer not to?
Things that run through my head every time I need to give feedback:
Ask the person if s/he would like feedback because no one likes to be caught unawares and unready
Share my intent for giving feedback
Not to extensively justify my feedback, and to present it as-is
A huge reminder to myself: I am responsible for giving factual and constructive feedback, but I am not responsible for the way the recipient reacts to my feedback. It's a necessary step to take in order
Kimchi making, 손맛 (son-mat) lit. "hand taste"
Over the past month, I've held kimchi-making lessons and some friends have also bought kimchi from me. Sometimes I marvel at my randomness.
In the past 48 hours, I have been:
Listening to: GIRIBOY x HEIZE's Traffic Control, Michael Jackson's Childhood, my inner thoughts
Reading: Atul Gawande's Being Mortal: Medicine and what matters in the end, Lindsay Miles' Less Waste No Fuss Kitchen
Watching: 39, where every episode hurts because I relate to the show's theme and sub-stories as a female, who treasures her friends, worries for her own (and family's) health. All That Pingpong! where... after watching, I went out to buy a ping-pong racket and balls, and now I need to learn how to play.
Yours in the "is it already mid-March!?" way,
Medhā
p.s. if you enjoyed this newsletter, feel free to share it with a friend you think would resonate with these (still) growing up thoughts of mine. TIA!