Dr Nurul Yaqeen

07/01/2026

“Disangka Hanya Paru-Paru Berparut, Rupanya…”

Ada hari-hari tertentu dalam hidup saya sebagai doktor paru-paru, yang pulangnya tidak pernah sama.
Bukan kerana penat fizikal semata-mata, tetapi kerana berat emosi yang tertinggal di hati.

Hari itu, nama Encik Rosli, 76 tahun tertera di senarai pesakit.

Seorang lelaki tua, kurus, bertongkat sedikit, ditemani anak lelakinya. Wajahnya tenang, tetapi mata itu… mata yang menyimpan banyak cerita.

⸻

“Doktor, saya batuk dah lama…”

Encik Rosli duduk perlahan-lahan.

“Batuk kering… hampir tiga bulan,” katanya.
“Tak ada kahak. Tak berdarah. Tapi tak hilang.”

Saya angguk, mencatat.

“Berat badan?” tanya saya.

Dia tersenyum nipis.
“Turun hampir 5 kilo, doktor. Selera makan pun dah tak ada.”

Saya pandang anaknya.
Anaknya mengangguk perlahan. Risau jelas di wajahnya.

“Encik Rosli merokok?”

Dia ketawa kecil, ketawa yang tidak ada bangga.
“Sejak umur 20-an. Sampai sekarang.”

Saya diam seketika.
Dalam kepala, satu senarai panjang diagnosis mula terbentuk.

⸻

CT scan yang kelihatan ‘tenang’

CT scan awal menunjukkan tanda-tanda paru-paru berparut.

Parut.
Perkataan yang selalunya membuat pesakit bernafas lega.

Anak Encik Rosli bertanya cepat-cepat,
“Doktor, jadi bukan kanser ya?”

Saya tidak terus menjawab.

“Buat masa ini, kita nampak parut. Tapi simptom ayah awak… tak boleh kita pandang ringan.”

Encik Rosli memandang saya lama.

“Doktor… saya dah tua. Kalau ada apa-apa, cakap saja.”

Ayat itu…
Selalu membuat dada saya terasa sempit.

⸻

Nombor yang mengubah segalanya

Saya cadangkan ujian tumour markers.

Bukan kerana saya pasti.
Tetapi kerana naluri sebagai doktor yang sudah terlalu lama melihat penyakit bersembunyi di sebalik “parut”.

Keputusan sampai keesokan hari.

Saya terdiam lama.

Lebih 500.

Sedangkan nilai normal biasanya kurang daripada 40.

Saya pegang laporan itu lama, sebelum memanggil mereka semula.

⸻

“Doktor, kenapa muka doktor serius sangat?”

Encik Rosli duduk di hadapan saya.
Kali ini, senyumannya kurang.

Saya tarik nafas.

“Encik Rosli… ada satu keputusan yang saya perlu jelaskan.”

Saya tunjukkan laporan.

“Cancer markers ini… sangat tinggi.”

Anaknya terus bangun sedikit dari kerusi.

“Doktor maksudkan… kanser?”

Saya tidak menafikan.

“Belum sah. Tapi ia sangat mencurigakan.”

Encik Rosli pegang tangan anaknya.

“Tak apa… dengar dulu.”

⸻

PET-CT: kebenaran yang makin menghampiri

Kami teruskan dengan PET-CT scan.

Kali ini, keputusan tidak lagi ‘tenang’.

Ada aktiviti mencurigakan di kelenjar bahagian dada.

Saya tunjukkan imej itu.

“Ini kelenjar… biasanya ia boleh terlibat bila ada kanser paru-paru.”

Anaknya terdiam.
Encik Rosli menunduk lama.

“Jadi… parut itu bukan sekadar parut?”

Saya jawab perlahan.

“Kadang-kadang, kanser menyorok di sebalik parut.”

⸻

Menunggu pengesahan: saat paling sunyi

Langkah seterusnya ialah prosedur
Endobronchial Ultrasound-Guided Transbronchial Needle Aspiration (EBUS-TBNA)
untuk mengambil sampel kelenjar dan mengesahkan jenis kanser.

Namun buat masa ini…
kami menunggu.

Dan menunggu itu adalah perkara paling sukar.

Sebelum keluar bilik, Encik Rosli berpaling.

“Doktor… saya menyesal merokok.”

Saya tunduk sedikit.

“Encik Rosli, sekarang bukan masa untuk menyalahkan diri. Sekarang masa untuk kita hadapi bersama.”

⸻

Refleksi seorang doktor paru-paru

Sepanjang perjalanan saya menjadi doktor paru-paru, saya belajar satu perkara yang sangat pahit:

👉 Tidak semua yang kelihatan ‘parut’ itu selamat.
👉 Tidak semua kanser datang dengan imej yang jelas.

Ada yang menyamar.
Ada yang bersembunyi.
Dan ada yang hanya muncul bila masa hampir terlewat.

Merawat paru-paru bukan sekadar membaca CT scan.
Ia tentang mendengar cerita pesakit, membaca perubahan tubuh, dan mempercayai naluri klinikal.

⸻

Pengajaran dari kisah Encik Rosli

🌿 1. Batuk berpanjangan bukan perkara biasa, walaupun tanpa kahak
🌿 2. Penurunan berat badan & hilang selera makan adalah tanda amaran
🌿 3. Paru-paru berparut tidak sentiasa bermaksud selamat
🌿 4. Perokok tegar berisiko tinggi — walaupun pada usia tua
🌿 5. Pengesanan awal membuka lebih banyak pilihan rawatan

Dan yang paling penting…

🌿 Jangan tunggu sehingga badan ‘menjerit’ baru mahu diperiksa.

⸻

Jika anda atau orang tersayang:
• Batuk lebih 3 minggu
• Berat badan turun tanpa sebab
• Pernah atau masih merokok
• Keliru dengan keputusan CT scan

📍 Jumpalah pakar paru-paru. Jangan biarkan “parut” menutup kebenaran.

👉 Tempah temujanji klinik di sini:
🔗 https://encoremed.io/smcv /154






—————-

“Thought It Was Just Lung Scarring… Turns Out…”

There are certain days in my life as a lung specialist that I never return home the same.

Not because of physical exhaustion alone,
but because of the emotional weight that stays with me.

That day, the name Mr. Rosli, 76 years old appeared on my patient list.

An elderly man, thin, walking slowly with a slight stoop, accompanied by his son. His face looked calm, but his eyes… they carried many untold stories.

⸻

“Doctor, I’ve been coughing for a long time…”

Mr. Rosli sat down carefully.

“A dry cough… almost three months,” he said.
“No phlegm. No blood. But it just doesn’t go away.”

I nodded, writing notes.

“Your weight?” I asked.

He gave a faint smile.
“I’ve lost about 5 kilograms, doctor. I’ve also lost my appetite.”

I looked at his son.
He nodded quietly. Worry was written all over his face.

“Do you smoke, Mr. Rosli?”

He let out a small laugh — not a proud one.
“Since my early twenties. Until now.”

I paused for a moment.
In my mind, a long list of possible diagnoses began to form.

⸻

A CT scan that looked ‘calm’

The initial CT scan showed features of lung scarring.

Scarring.
A word that often brings relief to patients.

His son quickly asked,
“So doctor, it’s not cancer, right?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

“For now, we’re seeing scarring. But your father’s symptoms… we cannot take them lightly.”

Mr. Rosli looked at me for a long time.

“Doctor… I’m old already. If there’s something, just tell me.”

That sentence…
Always makes my chest feel heavy.

⸻

A number that changed everything

I suggested checking tumour markers.

Not because I was certain,
but because of a clinical instinct shaped by years of seeing diseases hide behind the word “scarring.”

The results came back the next day.

I stared at them in silence.

More than 500.

When the normal level is usually below 40.

I held the report for a long moment before calling them back in.

⸻

“Doctor, why do you look so serious?”

Mr. Rosli sat in front of me.
This time, his smile was gone.

I took a deep breath.

“Mr. Rosli… there’s a result I need to explain to you.”

I showed him the report.

“These cancer markers are extremely high.”

His son rose slightly from his chair.

“Doctor, does that mean… cancer?”

I did not deny it.

“It’s not confirmed yet. But it is highly suspicious.”

Mr. Rosli held his son’s hand.

“It’s okay… let’s hear everything first.”

⸻

PET-CT: the truth draws closer

We proceeded with a PET-CT scan.

This time, the findings were no longer “calm.”

There was suspicious activity in the lymph nodes in the chest.

I showed them the images.

“These are lymph nodes… they can be involved when there is lung cancer.”

His son was silent.
Mr. Rosli lowered his head for a long time.

“So… the scarring isn’t just scarring?”

I replied softly,

“Sometimes, cancer hides behind scars.”

⸻

Waiting for confirmation: the quietest moment

The next step was
Endobronchial Ultrasound–Guided Transbronchial Needle Aspiration (EBUS-TBNA)
to take samples from the lymph nodes and confirm the type of cancer.

But for now…
we were waiting.

And waiting is often the hardest part.

Before leaving the room, Mr. Rosli turned back.

“Doctor… I regret smoking.”

I lowered my head slightly.

“Mr. Rosli, now is not the time to blame yourself. Now is the time for us to face this together.”

⸻

Reflections of a lung specialist

Throughout my journey as a lung specialist, I have learned one very painful truth:

👉 Not everything that looks like ‘scarring’ is safe.
👉 Not all cancers come with obvious images.

Some disguise themselves.
Some hide.
And some only reveal themselves when time is already running short.

Treating lung disease is not just about reading CT scans.
It is about listening to the patient’s story, recognizing body changes, and trusting clinical instinct.

⸻

Lessons from Mr. Rosli’s story

🌿 1. A persistent cough is never “normal,” even without phlegm
🌿 2. Unexplained weight loss and loss of appetite are warning signs
🌿 3. Lung scarring does not always mean it is harmless
🌿 4. Heavy smokers remain high-risk, even at an older age
🌿 5. Early detection opens more treatment options

And most importantly…

🌿 Do not wait until the body screams before seeking help.

⸻

If you or your loved ones:
• Have a cough lasting more than 3 weeks
• Are losing weight without a clear reason
• Are current or former smokers
• Feel confused by CT scan results

📍 See a lung specialist. Don’t let “scarring” hide the truth.

👉 Book your clinic appointment here:
🔗 https://encoremed.io/smcv /154

05/01/2026

“Tak semua tompok putih di paru-paru itu adalah kanser.”

Puan Yong, 56 tahun, datang hanya untuk pemeriksaan jantung.
Tiada batuk, tiada sesak nafas.
Namun satu X-ray menunjukkan tompok putih di paru-paru — dan sejak itu, hidupnya dipenuhi debaran.

PET-CT dilakukan.
Keputusan menunjukkan dua tompok putih yang tidak mencurigakan.
Ia berkemungkinan besar granuloma — parut lama di paru-paru akibat jangkitan terdahulu.

Bukan kanser.
Air mata yang tumpah kali ini adalah air mata lega.

Namun, tompok seperti ini tidak boleh diabaikan.
Mengikut Fleischner Guideline, pemantauan CT scan perlu dibuat selepas 6 bulan dan 1 tahun, terutama untuk memastikan keselamatan jangka panjang.

📌 Golongan berisiko tinggi:
✔ Perokok tegar
✔ Pernah menghidap kanser
✔ Ada sejarah kanser dalam keluarga

✨ Pengajaran
Tidak semua yang kelihatan menakutkan itu berbahaya.
Jangan panik sebelum ada kepastian.
Dapatkan penilaian pakar — kerana ketenangan jiwa juga sebahagian daripada rawatan.

👉 Tempah temujanji klinik:
https://encoremed.io/smcv /154

05/01/2026

“Tak Semua Tompok Putih di Paru-Paru Itu Adalah Kanser”

Saya masih ingat hari itu dengan jelas.

Pagi yang kelihatan biasa di klinik, senarai pesakit berjalan seperti rutin. Nama Puan Yong, 56 tahun tertera di skrin.
Alasan kunjungan: pemeriksaan kesihatan paru-paru.

Tiada batuk.
Tiada sesak nafas.
Tiada sakit dada.

Seorang wanita yang kelihatan sihat, kemas berpakaian, senyumannya sopan. Tiada langsung wajah orang sakit.

Namun hidup ini jarang benar berjalan mengikut skrip yang kita sangkakan.

⸻

“Doktor… saya sebenarnya tak rasa apa-apa.”

Puan Yong duduk di hadapan saya, tangannya menggenggam beg tangan erat-erat.

“Doktor jantung kata jantung saya okay… tapi…”
Dia berhenti seketika. Menelan air liur.
“Dalam X-ray tu… ada tompok putih di paru-paru saya.”

Nada suaranya perlahan. Mata sudah mula berkaca.

Saya mengambil file, meneliti laporan.
Ya. Ada tompok putih.
Dan dalam dunia perubatan, tompok putih di paru-paru adalah antara perkataan yang paling menakutkan bagi pesakit.

Saya mendongak perlahan.

“Puan Yong, saya faham puan risau. Tapi mari kita bincang satu-satu.”

⸻

Debaran yang tak terucap

Walaupun saya seorang doktor paru-paru, saya tidak pernah memandang ringan emosi pesakit.

Kerana saya tahu…
Dalam kepala mereka, satu perkataan sudah berulang-ulang:

Kanser.

Puan Yong memandang saya lama.

“Doktor… jujur dengan saya. Ini kanser ke?”

Soalan itu…
Tak pernah menjadi soalan mudah.
Walaupun sudah bertahun-tahun menjadi pakar.

Saya menarik nafas dalam-dalam.

“Buat masa ini, kita belum tahu. Dan tak semua tompok putih itu kanser.”

Saya nampak bahunya sedikit jatuh.
Antara lega… dan takut yang belum pergi.

⸻

PET-CT: Menunggu yang menyeksakan

Saya cadangkan PET-CT scan.
Bukan kerana saya yakin ia kanser,
tetapi kerana ketidakpastian lebih menyakitkan daripada kebenaran.

Hari scan berlalu.
Dan hari menunggu keputusan…
itulah yang paling lama bagi pesakit.

Puan Yong datang semula seminggu kemudian.

Langkahnya perlahan.
Tangannya sejuk ketika bersalaman.

“Doktor… saya tak tidur lena sejak hari tu.”

Saya faham.
Saya benar-benar faham.

⸻

“Ada dua tompok putih… tapi…”

Saya buka laporan PET-CT.

“Puan Yong,”
suara saya sengaja direndahkan,
“ada dua tompok putih di paru-paru.”

Wajahnya terus pucat.

“Tapi…”
saya sambung perlahan, memberi ruang nafas,

“kedua-duanya tidak mencurigakan.”

Dia memandang saya, seolah-olah tak berani percaya.

“PET-CT tak menunjukkan aktiviti kanser.
Ia sangat berkemungkinan granuloma — parut lama di paru-paru, mungkin akibat jangkitan lama yang puan sendiri tak sedar pernah alami.”

Air mata yang ditahan sejak tadi akhirnya jatuh.

“Jadi… bukan kanser?”

Saya tersenyum kecil.

“Setakat ini, tidak.”

⸻

Air mata yang lain maknanya

Tangis Puan Yong kali ini berbeza.

Bukan tangis ketakutan,
tetapi tangis kelegaan.

“Doktor… saya ingat hidup saya dah nak berakhir,” katanya teresak.
“Saya fikir tentang anak-anak… cucu-cucu…”

Saya hulurkan tisu.

“Puan Yong, perasaan itu sangat normal.”

⸻

Tapi… cerita belum tamat

Sebagai doktor, tugas saya bukan sekadar menenangkan.
Ia juga memastikan keselamatan jangka panjang.

Saya terangkan perlahan:

“Walaupun kelihatan tidak berbahaya, kita tak boleh abaikan.
Mengikut Fleischner Guideline, ketulan atau tompok di paru-paru perlu dipantau.”

Saya lukis sedikit di kertas.

“CT scan selepas 6 bulan, dan kemudian 1 tahun.
Jika ia kekal sama dan puan bukan golongan berisiko, kita boleh tarik nafas lega.”

Dia mengangguk.

“Golongan berisiko macam mana, doktor?”

Saya jawab jujur:

“✔ Perokok tegar
✔ Pernah ada kanser
✔ Ada sejarah kanser dalam keluarga”

Puan Yong menggeleng.

“Saya tak merokok, doktor. Keluarga pun tiada.”

Saya tersenyum.

“Itu berita yang sangat baik.”

⸻

Saat dia bangun dari kerusi

Sebelum keluar, Puan Yong berpaling.

“Doktor… terima kasih sebab tak terus buat saya takut.”

Saya jawab perlahan:

“Kadang-kadang, tugas doktor bukan sekadar mencari penyakit…
tetapi menenangkan jiwa.”

Dia senyum.
Senyuman yang saya harap akan saya ingat lama.

⸻

Refleksi seorang doktor paru-paru

Sepanjang perjalanan saya menjadi doktor paru-paru,
saya belajar satu perkara penting:

👉 Imej radiologi tidak hanya menunjukkan penyakit.
Ia juga mencetuskan ketakutan.

Dan ketakutan itu perlu diurus dengan ilmu dan empati.

Tidak semua tompok putih itu kanser.
Tidak semua ketulan itu membawa hukuman mati.

Tetapi setiap tompok putih membawa cerita manusia di sebaliknya.

⸻

Pengajaran dari kisah Puan Yong

🌿 1. Jangan panik sebelum ada kepastian
🌿 2. Saringan awal boleh menyelamatkan nyawa – atau menyelamatkan ketenangan jiwa
🌿 3. Pantauan berkala lebih baik daripada menyesal kemudian
🌿 4. Percaya pada proses, bukan sangkaan

Dan yang paling penting…

🌿 5. Bertanyalah kepada pakar. Jangan memendam ketakutan seorang diri.

⸻

Jika anda atau insan tersayang:
• Terjumpa tompok putih di paru-paru
• Keliru dengan laporan CT / X-ray
• Ingin penilaian risiko yang betul

📍 Jumpa pakar paru-paru. Jangan tunggu hingga takut itu menjadi lebih besar daripada penyakit itu sendiri.

👉 Tempah temujanji klinik di sini:
🔗 https://encoremed.io/smcv /154





—————-

Title: “Not Every White Spot in the Lungs Is Cancer”

I still remember that day clearly.

It looked like an ordinary morning at the clinic. Patients came and went as usual. Then I saw the name Mrs. Yong, 56 years old on my screen.
Reason for visit: cardiac health screening.

No cough.
No shortness of breath.
No chest pain.

She looked healthy, neatly dressed, with a polite smile. Nothing about her suggested illness.

But life rarely follows the script we expect.

⸻

“Doctor… I actually don’t feel anything.”

Mrs. Yong sat in front of me, her hands gripping her handbag tightly.

“The cardiologist said my heart is fine… but…”
She paused, swallowing hard.
“There’s a white spot on my lung in the X-ray.”

Her voice was soft. Her eyes were already glassy.

I reviewed the report.
Yes. There was a white spot.
And in medicine, a white spot in the lung is one of the scariest findings for patients.

I looked up slowly.

“Mrs. Yong, I understand why you’re worried. Let’s go through this step by step.”

⸻

An unspoken fear

Even as a lung specialist, I never underestimate a patient’s emotions.

Because I know…
In their minds, one word is already echoing:

Cancer.

She looked at me intently.

“Doctor… please be honest. Is this cancer?”

That question…
Never gets easier.
No matter how many years you’ve practiced.

I took a deep breath.

“At this point, we don’t know yet. And not every white spot is cancer.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
A mix of relief… and lingering fear.

⸻

PET-CT: the agony of waiting

I recommended a PET-CT scan.
Not because I was convinced it was cancer,
but because uncertainty hurts more than the truth.

The scan was done.
And then came the waiting —
the hardest part for any patient.

She returned a week later.

Her steps were slow.
Her hand felt cold when we greeted each other.

“Doctor… I haven’t slept well since that day.”

I understood.
I truly did.

⸻

“There are two white spots… but…”

I opened the PET-CT report.

“Mrs. Yong,”
I said softly,
“there are two white spots in the lungs.”

Her face turned pale.

“But…”
I continued gently, allowing space to breathe,

“both are not suspicious.”

She looked at me, afraid to believe it.

“The PET-CT does not show cancer activity.
It is most likely granulomas — old scars in the lungs, possibly from a past infection you may not even remember having.”

The tears she had been holding back finally fell.

“So… it’s not cancer?”

I smiled gently.

“At this moment, no.”

⸻

Tears with a different meaning

This time, her tears were different.

Not tears of fear,
but tears of relief.

“Doctor… I thought my life was coming to an end,” she sobbed.
“I thought about my children… my grandchildren…”

I handed her a tissue.

“That feeling is completely normal.”

⸻

But the story didn’t end there

As a doctor, my job is not only to reassure —
but to ensure long-term safety.

I explained carefully:

“Even though it looks harmless, we cannot ignore it.
According to the Fleischner Guidelines, lung nodules need monitoring.”

I sketched lightly on a piece of paper.

“A CT scan after 6 months, and then 1 year.
If it remains stable and you are not high-risk, we can be reassured.”

She nodded.

“Who is considered high-risk, doctor?”

I answered honestly:

“✔ Heavy smokers
✔ Personal history of cancer
✔ Family history of cancer”

She shook her head.

“I don’t smoke, doctor. And no cancer in the family.”

I smiled.

“That’s very good news.”

⸻

As she stood up to leave

Before walking out, Mrs. Yong turned back.

“Doctor… thank you for not frightening me unnecessarily.”

I replied softly:

“Sometimes, a doctor’s job is not just to find disease…
but to calm the soul.”

She smiled.
A smile I hope to remember for a long time.

⸻

Reflections of a lung specialist

Throughout my journey as a lung specialist, I’ve learned one important thing:

👉 Radiology images don’t just reveal disease.
They also trigger fear.

And that fear must be handled with knowledge and empathy.

Not every white spot is cancer.
Not every lung nodule is a death sentence.

But every white spot carries a human story behind it.

⸻

Lessons from Mrs. Yong’s story

🌿 1. Don’t panic before confirmation
🌿 2. Early screening can save lives — or save peace of mind
🌿 3. Regular monitoring is better than regret later
🌿 4. Trust the process, not assumptions

And most importantly…

🌿 5. Seek expert advice. Don’t carry fear alone.

⸻

If you or your loved ones:
• Discover a white spot in the lungs
• Feel confused by CT or X-ray reports
• Want proper risk assessment

📍 See a lung specialist. Don’t wait until fear becomes bigger than the illness itself.

👉 Book your clinic appointment here:
🔗 https://encoremed.io/smcv /154

01/01/2026

Azam Tahun Baru 2026

Jom Berhenti Merokok (Tips 60 saat)

Konsisten kunci utama

Kurangkan sebatang rokok per hari

Review & track progress setiap hari atau setiap minggu

Azam Tahun Baru 2026 : Jom Berhenti Merokok

31/12/2025

‘Selamat Tahun Baru 2026’

Semoga Tahun Baru 2026 memberi nafas baru & kehidupan yang lebih baik buat kita semua

Ikhlas dari :
Dr Nurul Yaqeen
Chest Clinic
www.chestspecialistmalaysia.com
—————————————————-
“Happy New Year 2026”

May the New Year 2026 bring new breath and a better life for all of us

Sincerely from :
Dr Nurul Yaqeen
Chest Clinic
www.chestspecialistmalaysia.com

04/12/2025

“Dr, bila saya boleh balik rumah?” (Part 2)

“Tak sangka akhirnya dia boleh balik rumah,” kata Dr Hafizul, Pakar Paliatif, sambil menggeleng perlahan. Nadanya masih berat.

“Aku betul-betul ingat dia akan ‘pergi’ untuk selama-lamanya 7 hari lepas. Pneumothorax dia sangat teruk… tekanan darah menjunam… aku pun dah mulakan ubat penenang untuk pesakit yang sangat nazak — mida–morphine.”

Aku menelan air liur. Ingatan itu masih segar dalam kepalaku.
Waktu aku masuk ke biliknya hari itu, Puan Mei terbaring kelesuan. Nafasnya pendek, kulit pucat, dadanya naik turun laju. Mesin tekanan darah asyik berbunyi amaran.

Ketika itu, semua petanda menghala kepada satu kemungkinan — kami hampir kehilangannya.

⸻

Babak 1 — Makan tengah hari yang senyap

Di meja makan tengah hari hospital, aku duduk bersama Dr Hafizul Pakar Paliatif dan Dr Josephine, Pakar Onkologi.

“Betul tu,” sambung Dr Josephine perlahan. “Aku pun tak sangka dia boleh survive this hospitalization. Tapi… at least sekarang aku dah boleh plan chemotherapy sebelum dia discharge.”

Kami bertiga senyap seketika.

Hanya bunyi sudu dan garfu berlaga memecah suasana.
Masing-masing tenggelam dalam fikiran sendiri, memikirkan detik-detik yang baru berlalu.

Aku menarik nafas panjang.

“Syukurlah… hari ini dia jauh lebih stabil,” kataku akhirnya. “Kita dah berjaya stabilkan pneumothorax dia dengan pneumostat — ambulatory chest drain. Kalau semua okay… mungkin 2–3 hari lagi boleh balik.”

Dr Hafizul tersenyum kecil.
“A miracle case, Nurul. Betul-betul.”

Aku angguk perlahan. Dalam hati… aku setuju sepenuhnya.

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Babak 2 — Di dalam bilik Puan Mei

Aku masuk ke biliknya. Puan Mei duduk bersandar, jauh lebih segar berbanding dua hari lalu.

Drain pneumostat yang tersangkut di sisi badannya masih utuh, terdapat tanda buih keluar di cecair dalamnya — tanda udara masih keluar dari pleural space.

“Paru-paru kiri puan semakin berkembang elok,” kataku sambil menunjukkan x-ray dada di skrin. “Drain ni membantu stabilkan pneumothorax puan. Kalau keadaan terus baik… puan boleh balik rumah dalam dua atau tiga hari.”

Aku belum sempat habiskan ayat…

“Betul ke, Dr?”

Suaranya serak. Matanya tiba-tiba berkaca.

“Oh… terima kasih, Dr… saya tak sangka saya masih boleh balik rumah…”
Tangisannya pecah perlahan.
Tangan aku digenggam erat, seolah-olah memegang harapan terakhirnya.

“Saya ingat… saya akan meninggal di hospital…”

Aku duduk di sebelahnya.

“Puan Mei… puan seorang yang sangat kuat. Saya tengok puan tak pernah putus asa. Puan rajin meditasi, sentiasa berfikiran positif… dan puan sentiasa reda dengan apa sahaja keputusan Tuhan.”

Dia mengangguk sambil tersedu.

“Saya cuma nak balik rumah… nak tengok cucu saya. Rindu suara mereka, Dr…”

“Saya tahu… dan insyaAllah puan akan dapat balik. Kami semua di sini berjuang bersama puan.”

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Babak 3 — Detik paling kritikal

7 hari sebelum itu…

Aku berlari kecil ke biliknya selepas menerima panggilan kecemasan.

“BP 70/40!”
“Nafas laju!”
“Chest pain worsening!”

Aku lihat x-ray kecemasan — pneumothorax tension yang semakin besar.
Paru-paru kirinya hampir ‘collapse’ sepenuhnya.

“Get the chest drain kit now!”

Dalam masa beberapa minit yang terasa seperti sejam, kami masukkan chest tube untuk melegakan tekanan dalam dadanya. Nafasnya perlahan-lahan lega.

Beberapa jam kemudian, dia kembali sedar…
dan memandangku sambil berbisik:

“Dr… saya penat sangat..adakah saya akan mati hari ini ?”

Aku sentuh bahunya.

“Kita masih bersama ya, puan. Teruskan perjuangan.”

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Babak 4 — Harapan itu kembali

Hari demi hari, keadaan beliau berubah.

Drain pneumostat membantu paru-parunya berkembang semula.
Tekanan darah stabil.
Oksigen berkurang dari 4 liter ke 2 liter.
Senyumnya perlahan-lahan kembali.

“Dr… saya dah boleh makan sikit hari ini.”
“Dr… saya rasa nak mandi sendiri.”
“Dr… saya rindu bau rumah saya.”

Setiap ayat itu terasa seperti hadiah.

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Babak 5 — Pesanan terakhir sebelum discharge

Hari discharge tiba.

Aku terangkan cara jaga pneumostat di rumah.
Apa tanda bahaya.
Bila perlu datang segera ke hospital.

“Dr… terima kasih kerana tak pernah putus asa pada saya,” katanya sambil menggenggam tanganku sekali lagi.

“Saya takkan lupa jasa doktor. Tuhan saja yang membalas.”

Aku senyum.

“Teruskan berjuang ya, Puan Mei. Every extra day you get… is a blessing.”

Dia angguk perlahan.

“Saya nak manfaatkan setiap hari yang Tuhan masih bagi.”

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Pengajaran dari kisah ini
1. Setiap nafas adalah nikmat. Kadang-kadang kita hanya sedar apabila ia direntap daripada kita.
2. Pesakit kanser bukan hanya perlukan rawatan — tetapi juga harapan, empati, dan kehadiran.
3. Pneumothorax pada pesakit kanser boleh sangat merbahaya, tetapi rawatan yang tepat dan cepat boleh mengubah segalanya.
4. Positif, tenang, reda dan kuat — semua itu mempengaruhi perjalanan kesembuhan seseorang.
5. Setiap hari yang Allah beri adalah masa untuk dihargai bersama keluarga.

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Klik link untuk temujanji klinik:
https://encoremed.io/smcv /154



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“Doctor, when can I go home?” (Part 2)

“I really didn’t expect she could finally go home,” said Dr Hafizul, the Palliative Care Consultant, shaking his head slowly. His voice was still heavy.

“I honestly thought she was going to ‘leave us’ for good 7 days ago. Her pneumothorax was so severe… blood pressure crash… I even started end-of-life comfort medications — midazolam and morphine.”

I swallowed hard.
The memory was still vivid.

When I entered her room that day, Puan Mei was lying weakly on the bed. Her breaths were shallow, skin pale, chest rising rapidly. The blood pressure machine kept alarming.

At that moment, every sign pointed to one possibility —
we were on the verge of losing her.

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Scene 1 — A quiet lunch

During lunch in the hospital cafeteria, I sat with Dr Hafizul and Dr Josephine, the Oncologist.

“Exactly,” Dr Josephine added gently. “I also didn’t think she would survive this admission. But… at least now I can finally plan her chemotherapy before she’s discharged.”

We fell silent.

Only the sound of cutlery filled the air.
Each of us lost in our own thoughts, replaying the critical events from days before.

I exhaled softly.

“Thank God… she’s much more stable today,” I said. “We managed to stabilise her pneumothorax with the pneumostat — the ambulatory chest drain. If all goes well… maybe she can go home in two or three days.”

Dr Hafizul gave a small smile.
“A miracle case, Nurul. Truly.”

I nodded.
In my heart… I agreed entirely.

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Scene 2 — Inside Puan Mei’s room

I entered her room again.
She was sitting up, looking far better than she did two days earlier.

The pneumostat device at her side was still bubbling softly — a sign that air was still escaping from the pleural space.

“Your left lung is expanding very well,” I explained while showing her the chest x-ray on the screen. “This device is helping stabilise your pneumothorax. If things continue improving… you can go home in two or three days.”

I didn’t even finish my sentence—

“Really, Doctor?”

Her voice cracked.
Tears instantly filled her eyes.

“Oh… thank you so much, Doctor… I never thought I could go home again…”
Her tears fell as she gripped my hand tightly — as if holding onto her last ounce of hope.

“I thought… I was going to die in this hospital…”

I sat beside her.

“Puan Mei, you are incredibly strong. You never gave up. You meditate, you stay positive… you accept every trial so gracefully.”

She nodded while sobbing softly.

“I just want to go home… to hear my grandchildren’s voices again, Doctor…”

“I know. And insyaAllah, you will. We are all fighting together with you.”

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Scene 3 — The most critical moment

Two days earlier…

I rushed to her room after receiving an emergency call.

“BP 70/40!”
“Breathing fast!”
“Chest pain worsening!”

The urgent x-ray showed a rapidly enlarging tension pneumothorax.
Her left lung was almost completely collapsed.

“Get the chest drain kit now!”

Within minutes — that felt like hours — we inserted a chest tube to relieve the pressure in her chest. Her breathing slowly eased.

A few hours later, she regained consciousness…
and whispered:

“Doctor… I’m so tired…am I going to die today ? ”

I squeezed her shoulder gently.

“We’re still here with you. Keep on fighting.”

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Scene 4 — Hope returns

Day by day, she improved.

The pneumostat helped her lung expand.
Her blood pressure stabilised.
Her oxygen requirement dropped from 4 litres to 2.
Her smile returned, little by little.

“Doctor… I can eat a bit today.”
“Doctor… I think I want to shower on my own.”
“Doctor… I miss the smell of my home.”

Every sentence felt like a gift.

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Scene 5 — Final advice before discharge

Finally, discharge day arrived.

I explained how to manage the pneumostat device at home.
What signs to watch for.
When to return immediately to hospital.

“Doctor… thank you for never giving up on me,” she said, squeezing my hand once more.

“I will never forget what you’ve done. May God reward you.”

I smiled.

“Keep fighting, Puan Mei. Every extra day you have… is a blessing.”

She nodded slowly.

“I want to cherish every day God still gives me.”

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Lessons from this story
1. Every breath is a blessing — one we often realise only when it is taken away.
2. Cancer patients need more than treatment — they need hope, empathy, presence.
3. Pneumothorax in cancer patients can be deadly, but timely and appropriate intervention can change the outcome.
4. Positivity, calmness, acceptance and inner strength matter greatly in recovery.
5. Every day given by God is an opportunity to love and be loved.

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Click for clinic appointment:
https://encoremed.io/smcv /154