Crass

I was in a foul mood all day. I didn't mean to be.

But it's really hard to break out of a cycle of anger once you've committed yourself into it. All day long i snapped at random people for no reason. I needed an outlet to vent my frustrations and to be honest, random people were as good as any. (and some not so random people - sorry friends unfortunate enough to cross path with me today!)

It's tiring really, being angry. As opposed to being happy.

And when this realization hits me; when it became clear how being angry had only been a completely unnecessary waste of energy on my part, i was already drained of my life essence. It wasn't going to change the situation i was in. It wasn't going to make me feel better. In fact, the only thing it did was create a cruddy circle of anger involving other people. And this circle gets bigger and bigger and bigger and eventually, everyone is angry and unhappy.

So why be angry in the first place? When all i needed to do was shrug it off and be cool about it.

Next time, I'm just gonna smile and get on with life.
Because there is always a better alternative to anger - like hot chocolate, ice cream and being sweet.

Right?


*update*: I'm hortlisted for 3 job interviews next week. Bismillah.

Who is?

She craved a presence beside her, solid. Fingertips light at the nape of her neck and a voice meeting hers in the dark. Someone who would wait with an umbrella to walk her home in the rain, and smile like sunshine when he saw her coming. Who would dance with her on her balcony, keep his promises and know her secrets, and make a tiny world wherever he was, with just her and his arms and his whisper and her trust. 

Hell yeah!! You're doing it right Laini! =)

perplexing vortex

"Did you two have some sort of history?"

"Of course not!" i vehemently denied what to me was starkly obvious. "We were friends, nothing more." She probably didn't realize how i had referred to him in the past tense. "Well, maybe he thought differently, maybe he thought there was something going on between you two, that you had feelings for him or something," my friend suggested.

"But why would he think that?" i demanded. "I have never ever given him the impression that he was anything to me except a friend." I didn't know where exactly our discussion was leading to, but i had a really bad feeling about where it was gonna end.

"Hmmm..." She paused for what i can only assume was for added dramatic effect. "I don't want to be brutally honest, and you might not realize this yourself," she continued cautiously. "But you sorta have this tendency to be a little 'manja' sometimes. People might misunderstand."

What the...???

Oh, for feck sake. I give up. Nothing i do seems to be right. First I'm that fierce, cold, unapproachable girl who could kill a ferocious man-eating Siberian tiger with a mere stare (read this). Now I'm a manja/gedik girl who entices men and make them go gaga over me without even trying???

Pftt. Why do i even bother?


p/s: If really had that magic girl-power to entice men, Mr Vampire would have noticed me by now.

Wedding bells.

++Post written 4 months in advance++

Today is my wedding day. Today, I am to be married to the perfect man. I have flawless porcelain-like skin, and am the ideal weight. And I get to wear that pretty wedding dress I've always dreamt of. 

3 years ago today, that was the perfect life i pictured myself having today.

But no, reality is much crueler than that. It feels almost criminal to actually admit to the grotesque nature of my current existence. You see, today I am still hopelessly single, still struggling desperately with acne, and am still carrying around more weight than i should. *stupid monstrous appetite!*

Most people (and by most people i mean random FB friends who haven't seen me in a good decade or so) might think I'm living life in the fast lane - a young, very beautiful (sorry, i just had to slip that in for ego-massaging sake!), single (by personal choice i keep telling people, which of course is a white lie) professional, working overseas, wearing branded clothing, owning exceptionally expensive handbags, having cute men chasing me left and right.

This is the truth: I go to work early and come home late and tired. Then the next morning the same cycle continues. I have nice clothes and shoes, and own an array of reasonably priced handbags - almost none of which i have ever had the occasion to show off. I hardly have time for romance, and trying to sift through random people i meet at work isn't really my idea of romantic.

So in summary, I am rather pathetic.

Ho boy! Writing this is actually a little depressing. I think i'm gonna stop just there, get myself a tub of vanilla flavored ice cream, stuff myself into a gastronomic coma, or die trying. Whichever comes first.

Goodnight folks.


p/s: Try not too read too much into what i write. Most of it is sugar-coated BS. Because really, at the end of the day, I still firmly believe in Allah's plans for me. Whatever, whenever and whoever it may be. =)

How to save a life.

I got the dreaded bleep at half past 7 in the evening. I knew it was it because somehow it didn't sound like any of the other one million bleeps i had gotten before. This one was different. This one went on forever, like a fire siren. And then a voice boomed in "Emergency in hospital ground! Emergency in hospital ground!"

For a split second i was frozen in track, unsure of what to do next. But then almost by pure instinct alone i started running. I wasn't entirely sure where i was running to, but i knew i had to get there fast. Whatever important thing i had been doing just a short while ago now seemed relatively unimportant. As i ran, i could hear myself cursing under my breath. "Shit. Shit. Shit! Why now?" Not that the patient in question had any control over when his poor heart would stop beating.

And then i saw it. A crowd of doctors and nurses in a flurry of activities, huddled over a man in bed. It was like a scene from Grey's Anatomy.

Only this was real. This was not some make-believe play.

I started chest compression as soon as i could slip in between the scurry of people at his bedside, in the vain hopes of getting his heart beating again. And if you think doing CPR is glamorous, i will tell you here and now that that is not the case at all. My first chest compression had the man spurting out his stomach content all over us. Green bits of undigested food which smelled anything but pleasant. It almost made me sick myself. (please don't judge me).

But i didn't stop. A man's life was at stake. I berated myself in my head 'Are you even human? How could you be thinking about something as trivial as how bad his puke smelled at a time like this'. So for the life of me, i kept pumping and pushing, giving it all my worth. 12 minutes in, there was no pulse. So I kept going. At 20 minutes, I could feel sweat trickling slowly down my forehead. But still, no pulse. I swapped with another doctor once or twice when i got too tired, but most often then not, it was me at the chest compression duty booth. Eventually, I could feel my arms going numb, like ants crawling from the tips of my fingers up to my elbows. My rhythm started to slow down, the force of my chest compression barely legitimate enough to be called a decent CPR.

By then it had been a good hour, if not more since he went into cardiac arrest. The specialist looked at me and shook his head. "You can stop now," he said, and proceeded to call the time of death. There was a moment of silence as everyone stood quietly by the dead man's bedside. Neither one of us actually knew him in life, but there we were at his deathbed, honoring his passing.

It was sad, but such is life (and death).

A wise man once told me that you're not officially a doctor until you've had your first kill. And so it goes that on that fateful day, I passed that rite of passage all doctors go through - to see a life slip right through my fingers and being as helpless as any mortal to do anything about it.

On that fateful day, I finally became a doctor.

Tee-Vee

Let me tell you how medicine has ruined TV for me.

I remember a couple of years back when I had the pleasure of being a guest at a family friends' home in Aberdeen. While the Akak was preparing dinner, her brother sat watching TV with me. He flicked through a couple of random channels and finally settled on House. My favorite show, he says with a grin. Halfway through and 10 minutes into what seemed like a very complicated Dr House-y medical rant, I couldn't help but ask "Do you even understand what they're talking about?" I mean really, here i was the 2nd year self-proclaimed nerdy medical student who hadn't a clue what Dr House nor his legion of gifted doctors were saying, no way this dude who graduated with an engineering degree or business or whatever, would?! (Hahaha, okay so I was a little conceited, shoot me!). His eyes still glued to the TV, he deadpans "If i knew what they were saying, it'll take away all the fun." 

I didn't really appreciate what he said then, but now that i think about it, how true! Oh, how true! You see, watching TV is like enjoying a magic show, the less you know, the better it is. I'll give you an example.

Last night i was watching an episode of Big Bang Theory. If u are unfamiliar with the show, it is a sitcom about a bunch of intelligent friends ('intelligent' being the key word here) and their funny antiques as they try to navigate a world not meant for geeky geniuses. Anyhow, Geek1 tells Geek2 that his neck hurts. Geek2 suggest that perhaps massage would help. So she tells him with explicit detail to place his hand between his clavicle and acromion just where the glenohemural fascia is, which he does, wrongly!! Idiots, i thought to myself. That's not where it is! And the whole show was ruined for me. Sigh~

I could come up with more examples of medical mishaps in TV world, but i'm sure u already get my point.  That sometimes ignorance is indeed bliss!

My Vampire Story

The first time I met him was on a Wednesday - post call. He looked awkward at first, quiet, shy and out of place. But once the rounds started he almost too naturally became one of the team. I remember Rita leaning in to me during one of her gossipy moments and whispered, "Don't you think he looks like a vampire, all tall and skinny and pale with that really dark hair?" I didn't really think that.

Well, at least not then.

But today something unexpected happened. We diagnosed one of our patients with bowel carcinoma and booked her for surgical consult. She needed a group and hold and some bloods done before we could transfer her to the regional hospital where the surgical team would take over. I volunteered to do this and started preparing my kit including my favoritest piece of the lot - a butterfly from my stash of saved goodies (Note: A butterfly is the equivalent to a blood taking needle for beginners/dummies). But as I was getting ready to go into her room, he came strutting along slowly looking his usual calm self. 

"Here, let me help you with that," he says to me, taking the kidney dish from my hands. "Oh and Izzy, would you mind getting me an 18G needle and a 20ml syringe please? Thank you." 

He took that humongous needle and gently pushed it into one of her veins. Slowly but surely bright red blood started to trickle into the syringe. It was a slow process but i didn't even noticed. I just remember standing next to him thinking "how could a tall and pale vampire look so sexy doing bloods?" And then my reverie was broken when he asked me for the blood bottles. He took each one and started filling 'em up, and before i knew it, he was done. Maybe it's because i'm still pretty new at this doctoring thing or maybe it's just a girls' thing, but for some odd reason i thought he looked pure sexy doing what he just did. Or maybe, Rita was right and he is a vampire. I mean think about it, only vampires can so effortlessly suck the blood out of people while still maintaining a certain amount of sexiness.

Later that evening, on our way home i said to Rita, "Actually Rita, now that i think about it, i guess he does look a bit like a vampire."

To which, she giggled and declared herself a genius. 

Typical Rita.

=============================================

Sidenote: He only picks up the his phone when I call, never when Rita does. There's only 1 of 2 reasons i can think of as to why he would do that:

1). He thinks I'm so hopeless as a doctor that every time I call for help he needs to get back to me as soon as he can before i kill someone. <---- nah, i'm hopeless but I don't think i'm that hopeless. 

2). He likes me more than Rita. <-- Oh yeah, this theory is a winner! =)

Dear diary.

You don't need to ask. I'm well aware how you're burning with curiosity wondering what my first 2 weeks of being a doctor was like. So here's a quick rundown of the last 12 days i had been working.

11/07/2011, Mon: First day. I woke rather early today. But I took a good hour long curled up in bed trying to calm jumping nerves. And then I took another hour to decide on what to wear. I'm like that sometimes, i suppose. I become nervous and indecisive at the most crucial moment for the most trivial of things. Of course, naturally i missed my bus and had to call the cab. *Argh, I'm not even paid yet and already I've developed bad financial habits*. When i reached the doctor's office where i would spend most of my days I was introduced to my boss, Dr C and colleague Rita. The rest of the team were at induction, so that just leaves us newbies to do all the jobs. And being newbies, we took an awfully long time trying to figure out how things work, where consults go etc. I didn't get home until about 8pm. Bummer.


12/07/2011, Tue: Second day. With the exception of the elusive 3rd intern who supposedly hails from Russia and an SHO who was on study leave, we had a full team today. I was on clinic duty in the afternoon *screamss*. Actually it wasn't too bad. I manage to go through 3 patients in 3 hours, one gout and 2 rheumatoid arthritis. I know, i work slow. *sigh*


13/07/2011, Wed: Today is ward day for me. Ahhh yes, and so the clerical work begins. Writing prescriptions, discharge letters, tidying other people's work... oh what fun it is to be a secretary... errr i mean, doctor.


14/07/2011, Thu: Back at the clinic again. It's osteoporosis day today - little frail old ladies' day, is what i like to call 'em. I didn't really know what to ask so i cheated and eavesdropped on what Sean, my SHO was asking in the next room and copy-cated him.
ME: "So have you noticed any lost in height recently?" 

Little old lady: "Errr, not that i've noticed. Is that something i'm supposed to be worried about??"  

ME: ...........errrr, ermm. yes. i mean no, it's just a general question i ask everyone in clinic. 

Little old lady *with a skeptical look on her face*: (dlm hati) "boleh percaya ke doctor ni?"

15/07/2011, Fri: No clinics, weee~! =) But i'm on extended day today so that means i have to stay on till 9pm, wuuu~! =( 
My Reg dropped a big one on me today and told me that i will be presenting in the next lunchtime medical conference. *Yasser u mean bully!! grr* (oh well, on the bright side at least i'd get it done and over with early on in the game).


16/07/2011, Sat: Being on call on Saturday is a living nightmare! BLOODS BLOODS AND MORE BLOODS! grrrr.. And then those dreaded bleeeps.
*bleep* Dr, please chart warfarin...
*bleep* Dr, please do this.
*bleep* Dr, please review that.
*bleep* Dr, this lady needs an ortho consult.
*bleep* Dr, we need a canulla please.
*bleep* Dr, someone's dying here.... i think. maybe.
*bleep* Dr, I bleep you an hour ago about that consult, remember?
*bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep* AAAAARGHHHHHHHHH! I swear if that bleeper goes off again i'd put it into a blender, mash it into small pieces and throw it into the Amazon river as piranha bait. Somehow, as if sensing my distress, that stupid bleeper stopped bleeping at about 7pm. So i went up to the doc's res and watched telly for 2 hours. Bliss.


17/07/2011, Sun: I officially declare myself a professional daytime vampire today. I've probably taken blood from half the hospital at this point. Oh well, at least i'm good at something now. Today I had a frail little old lady (or LOL for short) who keeps trying to desaturate on me. She was down to 82% on 4L O2 at one point. I called my housemate, an SHO and asked her what she thought. She gave me explicit orders on what to do in that situation. So i told the nurses to go up to 5L and i'd review the LOL again in 15 minutes. She was still desaturating. Hmmm.... what should i do next, i wonder? ABG maybe? But i've never done one myself and i doubt i'd be successful. So i bleeped the SHO on call, told him the mess i'm in crying for him to help me. Sean, tall and handsome came to my rescue like a knight in shining armor.


His solution was simple (and i feel utterly stupid for not thinking this myself, brain where have u gone to...?)- put the LOL on venturi mask instead of nasal prong. I mean really, it was that simple... and she didn't desaturate on me again for the rest of the evening, blissfully maintaining her baseline O2 sats of 90-92% on 40% oxygen. I requested a CXR for her, just in case. *Thank u Sean!*


18-22/07/2011, Mon-Fri: Pretty much the same all week through. Rita is on nights this week meaning i was the one manning the wards in the afternoon while the rest of the team were in clinic. But i have such cool-headed and efficient SHOs in the team that most of the ward jobs were done before afternoon, and i'd just sit there with nothing much to do at all. Yippee~! (That's a white lie, i had loads of things to do. But let's not get technical). 

And that concludes my first 12 days of being a doctor. Of course u must understand that I've kept a large portion of the gritty details out of this log  mostly due to confidentiality (*tipu* actually malu nak disclose all my stupid blunders), but i'm sure you get the gist of what i do each day. =)

So that's 2 weeks down, 50 weeks to go. Fuhhh~~

Siblings

Ude, Me, Tateh and Balong

I found this picture lying around at home, and I absolutely love it!

I'm not sure when this was taken exactly, but I'm guessing 1991/92.

Now before u start criticizing me, I'll go ahead and say it myself: Yes, i look like a ridiculously uncultured little girl. 

I guess I could have used a lesson or two on how to sit more ladylike (I mean, even Balong who is notorious for posing like a crazy person looks more decent than me in this pic). And maybe I should've learned by then how to smile for the camera without being asked by mom to say 'cheese' (which actually makes me snarl rather than smile). And those jeans (skinned at the knees) could only indicate the kind of terrible mischief i was up to then. And that hair... erghh, that hair! (let's not get into that today). 

But those unsightly things aside, you have to admit that this is a rather cute picture of us siblings (minus acik), right?

Invincible

Okay, so i suppose with the end of the intern shadowing exams yesterday I am somewhat officially done with med school. For a while after that realization, i felt like i was walking on clouds - lightheaded and surreal. I felt sort of invincible, like the whole world was within my grasps. The thing about feeling temporarily invincible is that in that short space of time when nothing can touch you, you might do something totally random and in retrospect probably a little stupid.

Which was exactly what i did. And yes, looking back now i feel very very VERY stupid.

You see, I contacted my old crush. It's been roughly 2 years since i talked to him last, and I'm proud to say that in that 2 years, i have not thought of him, once! (*little harmless white lie*). But there i was, feeling invincible, on top of the world, saying hi out of the blue. I told him i was bored and asked him (rather shamelessly i might add) to indulge me in conversation for a few hours, which surprisingly he did.

So we talked for a bit, trying to make up for lost time, getting re-acquainted with each other. I found it funny and a little unnerving how easily I could talk to this guy, the same guy who at one point could make me tongue-tied just by walking past me along the corridor. And after a while of pointless small talk, he suddenly asked if i would be in town *insert week* cos he'll be *insert name of place* then for *insert some important work thing*. Of course he could have meant anything by that rather ambiguous question. But i like to think it was a subtle invitation to meet up, perhaps even a date? (please don't burst my bubble even if you think otherwise!).

"Hmmm yeah, i think i'll be around," I tried to sound nonchalant. But of course, I was also feeling drunkenly invincible, feeling I was able to do anything without consequence, so I shamelessly asked him for his number, you know... just in case.

There was an agonizingly long pause at his end.

"Oh no, he's gonna question my intentions," was my first thought. "He's gonna think I'm a total flirt," was my second. "Just kill me and get this over with" was my last thought before he slowly recited some numbers.

"That's the company's number," he adds. (COMPANY? WHAT....?! are u kidding me?)

But then he continued with a tinge of laughter, "And here's my number if you need someone to talk to whenever u're bored - 012xxxxXXX." (Hahaha, you just gave me the literal equivalent of butterflies in my stomach, mister!)

And then because i didn't want to spoil the moment by saying something stupid in my giddiness, i gave him a lame excuse about having to pack my things, told him I'd talk to him again soon, and took my leave (almost a bit too hurriedly).

That was a few hours ago.

I'm no longer invincible now. I've come back down to earth and i feel like a complete idiot for a whole number of reasons. #1: I managed to score his number, but i doubt I'll ever have the nerve to call him now that reality is in the picture. #2: I kinda agreed to a date but i doubt I'd ever have the guts to go. I'm gonna come up with another lame excuse to bail, I'm sure of it!

So really, in short, that whole conversation should never have happened.

Because let's face it, what's the point anyway?