Take a Deep Breath

Life often demands a pause, a deep breath. As someone who thrives on being constantly on the move, embracing new experiences, and riding the thrill of an adrenaline rush, I often find 24 hours in a day far too short to fit everything in. On average, I sleep about 4-4.5 hours each night and juggle a packed schedule: mornings at the hospital, evenings at my dental clinic, gym sessions at night, and whenever I can, time for Steemit. Some days, I’m simply too drained even to log in, let alone actively engage. I truly value meaningful interaction, not empty gestures, and prefer reading posts fully before commenting thoughtfully. Shallow comments don’t add value, and I’d rather stay quiet than leave insincere responses. I admire those on Steemit who manage to balance even more than I do.

For me, Steemit is a platform to showcase my skills, writing style, and achievements, and to connect with others who share similar interests. Still, I won’t deny that the potential payouts are also a motivator. Living in Pakistan, where I barely make $300 a month working 14-hour days as a dentist, diversifying income sources is essential. I discovered Steemit in 2021 and have been hooked ever since. However, I recognize that it can’t be my primary income source; it’s more of a secondary channel that still requires consistency and quality.

Yesterday, for example, was one of the most exhausting days of the week. Saturdays at the OPD are intense, with over 150 patients pouring in from 9 am to 3 pm. The pace is relentless, and there’s little time to pause and catch your breath. Working in a government hospital that’s criminally under-resourced, we often have to make do with limited supplies. Yesterday, we only had one tube of filling material for five of us working on patients—each one of us needed it, but we had to keep rotating the single tube among us. Such resource scarcity is incredibly frustrating, especially when we’re already under so much pressure to provide quality care to a high volume of patients.

This X-ray is of a 7-year-old boy assigned to me yesterday in Endodontology, presenting with a toothache. What I see here reflects parental neglect; no matter what treatment I might attempt, this tooth needs extraction.

Another case was a 16-year-old girl with a molar ache, despite a composite filling done years ago. She was patient and well-spoken, but despite an hour of examination and consulting senior dentists, I couldn’t locate the source of her pain. I performed every test but eventually had to discharge her without treatment. I also handled a couple of fillings, and before I realized it, 2:30 pm had already arrived.

Days like these bring excitement but also exhaustion. When I left the OPD, I remembered my pending salary issues and headed to the Administration office. However, the desk officer was missing, and I was told to wait indefinitely. Absurdly, I waited on the 4th floor, where I could see Karachi looking beautiful below, adding a brief moment of calm to the day.

Say no to drugs is what I found hung up on a wall. It made me ponder why they had to hang it right outside the administration department, I'm sure this specific department is a reason why lots of kids take drugs.

The sign of emergency exit caught my attention. I don't really get the emergency exits. I mean, when in emergency, you'd want something that would take you out of the building in the fastest way possible, and running through the stairs from the 6th floor isn't really the best method is it?

Anyway, I got free around 4 pm and had to head to the clinic directly, from clinic, gym and from gym I had a football match at 2 am. From 2-4 am. In between I had my lunch. As I said it was one of the most hectic days of the week. I couldn't sleep in the morning and it's 11 am in the morning, I'm up, pouring my heart out and preparing myself to write the engagement challenge report.