Front‑Line Hero: Singapore Nurse Keeps Her Grandma Safe
It’s a story that feels both heart‑warmingly human and refreshingly modern. Meet Ms Nurul Hadainah Muhamad Suhaimi, a 30‑year‑old senior associate executive at Changi General Hospital’s Simulation Institute, who’s been missing a simple hug from her 85‑year‑old grandparents for over a year. False “kisses” over a kitchen door have become the new norm.
Why the Long Lull?
Even though Nurul never rubs shoulders with Covid‑19 patients herself, she’s acutely aware of how dangerous the virus can be for frail seniors. “I’m putting my parents’ safety above everything else,” she says with a mix of determination and a touch of humor: “If I walk into a lab, I’ll first splather myself with water – the shower‑over‑habit is real!”
- Post‑work ritual: straight to the shower, then laundry that’s her own, and a hand‑wash before flipping any lights.
- Kitchen barricades: placing food at the gate rather than handing it over. “Think of it as a culinary game of hide‑and‑seek,” she jokes.
- Family safety mantra: “No hugs until I’m squeaky fresh.” Even her parents, fully vaccinated at 61 and 65, are her biggest motivation to keep the virus at bay.
From Splashes to Simulation
Nurul’s job is a hidden drumbeat behind the front line: crafting realistic training scenarios for doctors and nurses before they touch actual Covid‑19 patients. Thanks to her meticulous prep, healthcare workers get a chance to practice on:
- Mock drug kits: complete with labeled dosages.
- Defibrillators: for life‑saving heart‑stop emergencies.
- PAPRs: the fancy headgear that filters air and turns nurses into superheroes.
She explains, “The idea is to train them to don gear and act faster than a heartbeat.” In a world that moved from quarterly drills to weekly sessions, the pressure’s real – every second counts during a resuscitation.
Training on the Edge
In emergency simulations, nurses are expected to:
- Don protective gear in record time.
- Communicate clearly under pressure.
- Act with exact precision to save lives.
Granular performance metrics hall this part of her work, but Nurul remains unflappable. “Though my workload has gone up, I love being part of the front‑line brigade,” she says, turning the seemingly invisible effort into triumphant pride.
Taking Pride, One Shower at a Time
In the grand narrative of the pandemic, she’s a quiet hero who keeps her grandparents safe while ensuring her colleagues hit the ground running. Let’s raise a glass (or a polished hand‑wash step) to her: her dedication ensures that the battle against Covid‑19 stays as close‑knitted as a family hug—virtually, of course.
