MCRs. The ultra fulfilling day of doing 1 IV cannulation, watching 2 surgeries, scrubbing in on 1 additional surgery, going solo in pre-admission interviewing 1 patient, doing 3 bloods and then clerking 3 ward patients (this was the day I experienced the tip of the iceberg of what it would be like to practice as an intern). Mock exam. Peking duck, 1 hr unlimited gaming, soft-toy catching and casino wars. Unsurprising surprises at T3 ;p Absolute Pear. Running, swimming and badminton. Prisonbreak 3. A cheery SMS early in the morning informing me that the bestie has touched down. Shooting out of the house to meet the bestie for shopping!! (well, I wanted to shop but she bought more stuff than me in the end ;p) Old Airport Road and the closing ceremony of the Singapore Arts Festival. Catching up with the ECG at Zhen's. Ditto the above amidst purple lipgloss, chocolates and some tile business! A 7(?)-course picnic by the bay, a tour around the Singapore Flyer and Le Scaphandre et le Papillon. Fraser's hill and The Pavilion Kuala Lumpur with the family. The parking discussion. PS meetup with Sihuan. A nurse shark, murray eel, black tip shark (attracted with the trick of the trade), hermit crab, nudibranch and lots more in Tioman! Nemo-playing/scaring. Chern's stereotypes (go figure ;p). Zhen's panic attack that I might have flown back to Aussieland without saying goodbye. The Escape from Huang Shi. Paddles city starbucks. The grey dress. Popiah party re-lived! The couch. McMuffin, wake up! McMuffin! I want to eat you!! Debbie's visitation of the new house (and the uber long chat that followed ;p) The night out with the dad (in good ol' public transport fashion, no less!) The One Fullerton Starbucks session and the House-Hanloong comparisons AND abriel and tjow's exploration of the new place by moonlight!! Latenight McSpicy and laksa + the affectionate 'laksa gal' sms :))) The last minute Brewerkz gathering. Shimin's fault-finding with her already-so-perfect body! ...
Enough said, I think it's time for some peektures.
There there, all those happy faces! :) Can't wait to see them again come Dec. Editor's note: Not so efficient afterall. I actually left out stuff!! Also, I realised that the pictures have betrayed my change in skin tone. White one picture, dark the next. Le sigh!
What looks like 'militant morality' to the opposite sex is partly the knowledge deep within a woman that she holds the key to the situation where a man's passions are involved. He will be as much of a gentleman as she requires and, when the chips are down, probably no more, even if he has strict standards of his own. He will measure her reserve, always testing the limits, probing. This is not necessarily because he wants to go as far as possible. It is sometimes from a confused sense of obligation, or even chivalry, to meet her expectations. I'm sure this is true, because men have told me so. Sometimes, bringing a girl home from a date, they say to themselves, 'Guess I've got to kiss her goodnight. Wish I didn't have to.' It is a relief when the girl lets him know she doesn't want him to. It can be a relief when she says no, even when he wants to kiss her, because he finds mystery in her, and mystery is both surprise and delight.
So guys will love me after this, but I must admit that maybe Elizabeth Elliot is right. "I was convinced that was what he wanted." Now we know better. As the supposedly more rational gender (haha ;p), we should take control of our situation and stop blaming the guys for our own pitfalls. "He persuaded/pressured/tricked me into it." Well, then he isn't that good a guy after all, but we could also do better to save the situation. -- Shall end off this discussion with a beautiful paragraph quote from the book about being in love.
Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. In fact, the state of being in love usually does not last. But of course ceasing to be 'in love' need not mean ceasing to love. Love is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by the grace which both partners ask and receive from God. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be 'in love' with someone else. 'Being in love' first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep their promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it.
Sloth in God's dictionary is defined as not carrying out His purposes when it is within our capabilities to do so.
I roamed the streets of Zimbabwe, a missionary for Compassion Ministry. This was my first week here, after a multitude of training for this passion of mine to stand in the gap where I was most needed, where God has called me to be. I was all prepared to be stationed amongst the poorest of poor and neediest of needy, and true indeed, this place was a desolate one, but none more desolate than the eyes of the children who line the street. This night, I was heading back to my hostel. I was done for the day and needed some rest to continue my task of serving the community around me. Compassion Ministry was in charge of planting schools around the area, and it was no easy feat. It was no easy feat, particularly, keeping these children in the schools. They all saw fit better things to spend their time on. I would too, if my main concern was where my next meal was coming from. My mind preoccupied with these matters, I did not see the three girls approaching me just as I was crossing the street from Meikles Hotel. "Sir, for $20 you can have me for the whole night." Her statement was plain. While I was retiring for the day, hers was just about to start. I quickly scanned the three girls, the eldest of them all did not even look sixteen years of age. Poor souls, poor poor souls. I turned to the second girl. "So, are you going for $20 as well?" I asked. She nodded, unfazed. She was the quiet one. "And you?" I turned to the last girl. She was trying to hide that bit of indignance, but I saw it flicker in her eyes, before quickly fading away. She tried to smile, but how genuine could it be when there was so much plaguing her mind? This child had taken on the burden of an adult, and it showed. She probably had a few siblings waiting back 'home' for her, waiting for whatever miserly bit of income she could bring in. Her parents had probably divorced, disappeared or been lost to AIDs. "Yes," she replied nonetheless, not evading my gaze. She had to be strong. "Okay," I decided. "You guys meet me in the lobby of the hotel back there in thirty minutes then." I pointed to the hotel across the road. I had to get some things settled first, the most important of which was to proceed to the reception to book a hotel room. After busying myself for the whole thirty minutes, I greeted the girls again at the lobby. "Come, let me show you girls something." I directed them up the lift. They seemed nonchalent, definitely not expecting what was in store. And so I opened the door of the hotel room. There it was, everything I had ordered. Four slices of the best cake, and an assortment of finger food. Drinks of every flavour. All the DVDs the hotel could rent me. Boardgames too. The girls' eyes widened in surprise. This night was not turning out the way they expected it to be. It was foreign to them, so foreign they were stuck in their tracks and did not know how to approach the situation. I had never seen such hesitancy in children who were presented with all the delights in their world. "Go on," I nudged them. They looked at each other, finally deciding to let their guard down and hustle into the room. They ransacked the pile of DVDs, pulling out the Disney titles. They couldn't agree on which to watch first. I had to intervene, telling them they'd get to watch all and just had to start somewhere. We plonked ourselves in front of the television after choosing a popular and heartwarming title - they gobbling down their food and cake, I savouring every bit of their reaction and exhilaration. Soon they got tired, and retired to the bed. Seated at the corner of the room in a comfy armchair, I watched them sleep for awhile. They were sleeping soundly, just as children should. This is how it should be. I left the room. I knew I could not change anything in these children's lives. Tomorrow, they'd be out on the streets again, soliciting customers who would probably not respond the same way I did. However, I was content with what I had done. At least for one night, just this one night, they were children again. I had always thought that everyone should come to Zimbabwe at least once in their lives, and maybe they wouldn't continue living their ignorant sheltered lives. Maybe then, something would be done. Maybe, we're all just too afraid to face the facts. But that doesn't mean the facts aren't staring straight at us.
..msn-ed specially to tell me that she dreamt about me. Walking with her down the corridors and canteen of RJC. I still remember the times we spent together, the 'do you know Starfish is not called Xin Yu in Chinese?', and the random 'Go, Starfish!' cheers whenever I was playing for sport or up on stage. Fine memories.
And guess what, this is after 2 years of absence from her life? I'd gladly take that as a sign :)
The air is buzzing with excitement, as all the keen-eyed Monash medical students begin the Big Swop. The change of rotations. Or maybe, it is just my air. My enthusiasm in Haematology and Oncology had died down toward the end of the 4th week, only to be reignited by an ICU consultant who taught me constantly, ONLY to be diminished yet again when I was down with the flu. So now, I've just started on my General Surgery rotation, and it looks promising, which in my dictionary reads exciting and interesting. I've always loved working with my hands, or for this matter watching others work with theirs. It's amazing what they can do, how delicate and swift their manouvers. Every surgery, down to the last suture, is a work of fine art. I watched a replacement laparoscopic banding today, and a staging laparotomy. Apparently the lap banding inserted a few years ago on this morbidly obese lady had worked really well, and she'd lost 100% of her excess weight. That's a huge success! The usual weight loss for such a procedure is usually 60-70%. However, complications arose. The patient developed a haitus hernia which they fixed concurrently, while replacing the band. So much for risks, and a good prognosis. It's still never good to be at any end of that weighing scale spectrum. My point is very much supported by this:
That aside, I've to put in work to get the most out of this rotation. 7am ward rounds, and 630am Thursdays so that we can clerk the latest updates on the patients before presenting it to the consultants when they arrive at 7. So glad the break's coming up, and nicely splicing my rotation into two.
Nonetheless, it will be worth all the while! Afterall, I'm watching a Whipple's tomorrow :)) What more can a 3rd year med student ask for?!