Tripping Up My Grey Cells

Knowing but forgetting doesn't score any points

2011-11-18T12:52:00.001+08:00

Today I had my end-of-posting mini CEX (clinical examination) for surgery posting. And it sucked, for lack of a better word. I was the first on the list. I arrived early. I got a relatively easy patient – 52 year old lady complaining of right hypochondrium pain. And that’s where the good luck ended.

I forgot to ask this. I forgot to ask that. I forgot to do this during my examination. I forgot to do that. In summary: I sucked. I knew the stuff. I recalled it all afterwards when I was done. I just forgot. Even the patient asked me how was I going to be a good doctor if I forget the stuff I forgot? You know it’s a bad sign when a patient asks you that.

As one of my lecturers likes to say when it’s exam time: “If you don’t know, bullshit like you know.” And bullshit I did. It didn’t do me any good in terms of history taking and clinical examination, but it sure got me points in confidence and ability to speak well. Though, that’s not going to help me much if I don’t know how to take a complete history and do a proper examination.

I have Option Week next week. One week in any specialty I want. And what do you know? I chose another week of Surgery. =)

2 Reasons not to do a PR

2011-11-11T23:17:00.001+08:00

Found in Deja Review - Surgery:
(click to enlarge)

Which basically means, there's no excuse not to do a PR (per rectal).

And in my short life as a med student, I've only done 2.

"Oh My God."

2011-11-02T17:21:00.001+08:00

A couple days ago I had my end of posting assessment, a mini-CEX (clinical evaluation exercise). The mini-CEX could have gone better. It couldn’t have gone any worse I don’t think.

I just finished with my Medicine posting and for my mini-CEX, I had to do a general and complete cardio exam on an elderly gentleman in front of Dr. H.

One of Dr H’s more often heard phrase is “Oh my God”. It amuses me to hear such a young sounding phrase coming from Dr H who is in his late 50s I would guess.

During this short case, Dr H kept interrupting me to explain - either because of all the mistakes I was making or because he viewed the assessment as a more personalized teaching opportunity. And after almost every wrong answer I gave, I’d hear “Oh my God” from Dr H.

After a while, the elderly patient I was doing an exam on, who it turns out was a bit confused, started repeating after Dr H – “Oh my God” and he’d grin at me. If it amused me to hear that phrase from Dr H, it was funnier hearing it from this 70+ year old man.

Goodbye again Medicine.

2011-10-29T00:05:00.000+08:00

I’m finished with my Medicine posting. (quiet 'yay!')

It’ll be my last Medicine posting until my final year, which is kind of relieving, sad and scary at the same time. I’ve enjoyed my Medicine posting to a certain extent and most of the diseases found in the medicine wards are common among the population, so you kind of have to be really good in Medicine to be a competent doctor. Which I’m not really. But of course, this just means, I’m just going to have to study more and harder. *sigh* Things are much easier said than done, huh? And the word on the street (well, in the halls) is that Medicine and Surgery are by far the easiest postings in 3^rd and 4^th year. *gulp*.

I've enjoyed listening for murmurs, feeling for enlarged livers and spleen, listening for crackles and rhonchi, pressing against legs for pitting edema, checking cranial nerves and reflexes and of course talking with patients in the Medicine wards. I hope to learn more the next time around. Goodbye once again Medicine..

I’ve been stressed for the past week finishing up my case write-up and worrying and preparing for the assessment I had today (which turned out to be a short case assessment which didn’t go as well as I would have liked it to, but well enough). Both are done and over with and so this weekend I’m planning to go bird-watching! Yup, bird-watching. I have a great respect for wildlife and I’ve never gone, so this weekend when my college has a program open, I decided to join.

Next week surgery! I’m excited to get back to the surgery wards. I’ve been gone too long.

Getting over a not-so-great class.

2011-10-11T20:48:00.000+08:00

I have officially started the 2^nd half of my 3^rd year in med school. And it’s already the 2^nd day. My first posting? Medicine. Yup, back to the medicine wards.

I had a somewhat not-so-great class today in which:

1. I was told (many times) to not answer.

2. I was told I unconsciously didn’t like the lecturer.

3. I was told to control above unconscious dislike.

4. I was told all the other people in the group were much smarter than me.

5. Writing down what the lecturer was saying was irritating. (to the lecturer that is.)

6. I was asked rhetorical questions in which I would have loved to answer ‘yes’ to.

So, what to do after a class that reduces your self-esteem to almost zero?

How to get over a bad class:

1. Vent. Rant, whine, go on a tirade. Just let it out. If no one is willing to listen, then talk to yourself. It might make you seem like a crazy person, but at least you’ve let it out, right?

2. Eat. Food has magical properties, I’m convinced. Eat something large so you use all that angry energy to chew. Now I understand why some depressed people eat so much. It’s strangely satisfying.

3. Study. If you couldn’t answer most of the questions in the class, then open up a book. Maybe your lecturer carries out the tough love method. Study some more and in the next class, you’ll be so prepared that the lecturer will be blown away by your knowledge. Yeah, sure.

4. Shrug it off. It’s not you, it’s them. Some people are never satisfied, some are irrationally fussy, or maybe there’s some hidden agenda against you [like I’m sometimes paranoid enough to think].

Today, I opted for #1.

Passing Phase 2

2011-09-29T23:49:00.002+08:00

I passed my Phase 2 final exam!

A big ‘YAY!’ there. Yay!!

Thank you Allah. Seriously thank you!

I didn't study for this exam as hard as I studied for the First Professional Exam (end of 2nd year exam). I tried to make up for it by staying up late and studying during the study week. Which didn't work as well as I had hoped, but I did pass, so it sort of worked.

My study table during finals. My large pile of notes fills another table by itself.

What passing means:

1. I am not done with my 3^rd year of med school.

2. I am halfway through med school.

[I definitely like the second definition better.]

Post-exam treat. =) Thank you to Liyana because she belanja

On to Phase 3A I go. After this one week break of course.

Oh and Melioidosis was in the exam. Really didn't expect that. *sigh*

*Phase 2 is only 6 months long.

Reading Up On Bacteria

2011-09-26T20:02:00.000+08:00

Last week, I had a Microbiology Practical class. (yes, during my study week nonetheless). It was a practical on Leptospirosis and Melioidosis, which are common in Malaysia and have high mortality rates, meaning: many people die from it.

We had a guest microbiologist: Dr Alex Francis. He’s the head of the Microbiology Department of Hospital Ipoh.

He’s also the guy that came up with the Francis medium. It’s a modified Ashdown’s medium, but more specific and a lot faster in identifying the organism.

Francis medium for Burkholderia pseudomallei

It’s a medium to identify Burkholderia pseudomallei, which is the organism responsible for Melioidosis, which is hard to diagnose because it mimics a lot of other diseases.

And while I don’t think it will be in the exam tomorrow, I’m still reading up on it in case that the 0.01% chance that it ends up in the exam decides to let itself be known.

OSPE tomorrow. OSCE the day after.

May my brain be ready. I wish my whole class luck and may we all pass!

Lost Food Cravings

2011-09-20T01:16:00.000+08:00

I have some chocolate in my drawer. And I was planning to eat it tonight after studying. But after looking at this:

Guess what this is? (Answer at the bottom)

The chocolate will have to wait until tomorrow. There's nothing like looking at pathology pictures to make you lose your appetite.

[It kinda makes me wonder what the pathologists were eating when they thought of these names. Or whether they ate at all. Maybe that's why all pathologists I've seen are on the low side of the scale.]

Finals in 1 week. (Yikes!)

Answer: Ovary with endometriotic cyst. a.k.a. Chocolate cyst ovary.

"Do the Google"

2011-09-13T23:25:00.000+08:00

I have a Microbiology professor who whenever he tell us to go search for more information online, he says - "Go do the Google."

And I can't help but imagine some kind of dance or chant whenever I hear this.

Like:

You do the Google
I do the Google
Let's all do the Google
Let's Google, Google!

Or if it was a dance, there would be lot's of Google-ing being done...as in 'shake that!' and everybody would just be shaking and Google-ing their bodies.

Let's do the Google. I have to go do the Google now. Finals in 2 weeks. (Yikes!)

Of Funks, Orthopedics, and Handsome Men

2011-09-10T23:55:00.005+08:00

It’s been quite a while since I’ve updated and I’d like to apologize: I’m sorry.

What’s been going on in my life:

- Surprise birthday party for me and my housemate [whose birthday was close to mine] given by some close friends of ours.

- Studying for finals [which is in 17 days. *face reacts in horror*]

- Discovering the series ‘The Big C’ [which made me watch every episode so far]

- Searching for and reading Criminal Minds fanfiction which have Prentiss and Morgan pairing [tougher than expected, but once found, always a great read]

The last two have contributed to me not doing the second enough.

Also, I’ve been in a funk lately that comes and goes. Also, it’s harder to get rid of it than expected.

Definition of funk: a dejected mood

[of course the other definition is ‘a state of great fright’ but that only applies when I think of exams.]

My attempts at getting out of the funk I’m in:

- Listening to music very loud

- Singing along to above music

- Dancing along to above music

- Watching TV comedies [e.g. The Big Bang Theory, HIMYM]

- Reading murder mysteries

- Sleeping

- Writing fanfiction [which has been a complete failure so far]

I’m less in a funk now. So much less, I’m updating. Haha.

After 2 weeks of orthopedics posting and I’m thinking about making it my specialty. Anyone who has been in the orthopedic ward or clinic at the hospital which I’m posting in should understand.

The male doctors in orthopedics [from housemen to MOs to the specialists] are handsome. Good-looking. Attractive. Some may even qualify as ‘hot’. Not only are they fine-looking, but they’re also very nice. They’re patient, their comments are constructive, and they’re just overall nice. [Though maybe they only are because we’re still considered new to clinical.]

Okay, so maybe not as great-looking as McDreamy, but ortho docs are still pretty good-looking.

I have yet to see a ward or clinic with more good-looking men than the orthopedic ward. Makes me seriously think about it as a specialty. Who knows, maybe my future husband is in one of them. [I wish, huh?]

Scenes from a Wedding Reception

2011-09-06T00:05:00.000+08:00

One the 3rd day of Eid, my family and I left for Kuantan, Pahang early last Thursday morning [and I mean, really early]. My cousin on my dad's side was having his wedding reception on Saturday. And most of my cousins and aunts and uncles came to help out. The preparation that goes into a typical Malay wedding reception [or kenduri kahwin as it's known] is . . . a LOT. It's at times like this that I'm thankful my dad has 8 siblings, which equals to a lot of cousins and a lot of people helping out.

Scenes from a Wedding:

From the night before as we packed the hard-boiled eggs into their packages. The brown eggs are telur pindang, part of Johor state culture. These are eggs boiled in many leaves of various kinds and spices and left to boil for 3-4 days. Normal hard-boiled eggs were also prepared. 500 of each kind.

The bride and groom arrive. The sticks the two kids are holding are bunga manggar [which I helped make btw]. The kid in purple is my little brother.

The bride and groom greeting the relatives.

Bunga telur ready to be handed out to guests.

2 of my younger cousins, my sister and me were on duty to hand out the bunga telur to the guests. It's actually tiring work.

My cousin and me. =)

And below is where the bride and groom bersanding.

My uncle did this in one night. Nice right?

Nighttime Drive

2011-08-25T03:13:00.002+08:00

I just came back from a drive that was certainly out of the ordinary. Ordinary is driving out because you’re bored and you feel like you might go crazy out of your mind if you stay cooped in the house any longer. [Well, that’s how I felt anyhow.]

What made my drive un-ordinary? Let me count the ways.

1. It was 1.20am. I came back at 2.30am.

2. I got stopped by the police at a road block. I hand to hand over my IC and driver’s license to be checked out, was asked where I live in Ipoh and what I was doing out (I’m looking for sahur.)

3. I stopped and ate at a mamak restaurant around 1.45am to eat.

4. I met 2 Form 4 guys at the mamak restaurant. Talked to them.

5. I ended up giving the 2 guys a ride to the Medan Gopeng terminal bus station, which is about 10 minutes away.

I told my housemate before I gave the guys a ride [I refuse to be stupid]. Shocked seems to be a good word to describe her reaction. I don’t know. I guess I just recalled all those days back when I was in secondary school when I had to walk home [which was about an hour’s worth of walking] in the scorching heat or in the pouring rain. I will forever be grateful to all those kind souls who offered me rides. [Heavy backpack + tired feet + Malaysian weather = made me say yes to anyone who offered]

Back then, as I sat in complete stranger’s cars, I used to promise myself that when I had a car and I saw anybody in need of a ride, I would stop and offer. I intend to make good on that promise whenever I am able to. As they say – what goes around comes around.

I’m now back in my room, surrounded by piles of a months’ worth of clean laundry, recently folded before I went out. I’m leaving tomorrow for my hometown after the afternoon class. This means I have to pack. I abhor packing. Detest it. Loathe it. Can’t stand it. I find it insufferable. I am repulsed by it. [Wow, Word has a decent thesaurus, huh?]

I have to pack. Sigh.

At the Mosque: Bad Habits

2011-08-19T23:22:00.001+08:00

19 Ramadan 1432

It’s the fasting month of Ramadan for us Muslims and for some extra reward (a.k.a. pahala), there’s additional prayers called tarawih. It’s carried out after the Isya’ prayer – the last obligatory prayer of the day. It can be done at home alone or at the mosque with the congregation and done 2 raka’ats at a time. It’s not compulsory. But, I like to join the congregation at the mosque during Ramadan and pray tarawih with them.

When praying in a congregation, you’ll meet a variety of people. And this variety of people have certain habits during the prayer. Some good. And some bad. It’s the bad ones that test my patience at times.

Bad habits of people at the mosque:

1. The non-movers

The most common kind of people you’ll encounter in mosques. These people won’t move when there is a break in the row – which is not allowed. I really don’t know why. It’s not that troublesome to take a step to your right or left. Yet, they act like it’s the worst you could ask of them. They think other people should fill up the space instead of them moving. If it’s a big enough space for another person, fine. But if it isn’t? They still won’t budge. It annoys me to no end and even if I show them the gaping hole in the row, they move the tiniest millimeter (or pretend to) and they ignore it. They must feel their bodies are large enough to accommodate that space.

2. The loud whisperers

I get annoyed by the people who whisper their verses out loud. It makes it hard for me to concentrate on what I’m supposed to reciting. In a congregational prayer, I’d like to hear the imam speak, not the woman next to me. Yet, these women are determined that they hear themselves.

3. The bad breath burpers

These people are rare but they just might be the worst. These people burp during the prayer. Not only do they not close their mouth while burping but their burps smell bad. I mean, really bad. I have no idea what they ate during the breaking of fast, but I don’t think it would hurt them to brush their teeth afterwards. I prayed next to one the other day and I had to hold my breath each time she burped. And she burped at least once per raka’at. I prayed 8 raka’at.

I’m sure these people are nice and normal in life and these are just bad habits they have while praying. And maybe they don’t realize they have these bad habits. I realize enough for them I guess.

. . . . . . . .

Perak State Mosque - the mosque I usually go to with my housemates during Ramadan

Tips for congregational prayer at the mosque:
1. Move closer when there is an empty space between you and the next person. It doesn't hurt. Believe me.
2. Whisper softly when reciting. You don't need to hear yourself. If you want to hear yourself, please pray at home.
3. Do not burp [a.k.a. brush your teeth after you break your fast.]

. . . . . . . .

[Note: Since I’m a woman, (That’s right, people, I’m a woman. =P) I pray with the women. So, these bad habits are of women. I don’t know about the men’s bad habits. Are they the same? Worse? I have no idea.]

The Short Deception

2011-08-17T00:00:00.001+08:00

I'm short. It's been said by many and agreed upon by me. I am short. Blame genetics. I'm a centimeter shorter than my mother and a centimeter taller than my younger sister. (Yes, it matters.)

After the terawih prayer [prayers carried out during Ramadan only after the evening prayer.] at the mosque, there's always moreh (light meal or snack after the terawih prayer). I was full from my breaking of fast at sunset, so I didn't feel like eating or drinking.While my housemates sat and ate, I hung around, petting these really cute kittens. Near me was a man collecting donations.

The conversation that ensued:

Pakcik*: Adik** tak makan ke? (Adik, you're not eating?)

Me: Tak, dah kenyang dari buka puasa. (No, I'm full from eating during the breaking of fast.)

Pakcik: Oh...Mana mak awak? (Oh...Where's your mother?)

. . . . . . . .

The pakcik thought I was a schoolkid waiting for my mother. I don't know whether to feel flattered I look so young (yeah, right..) or to feel insulted that me being short makes people think I'm a schoolkid.

. . . . . . . .

Pakcik - it means 'uncle' in BM (Bahasa Malaysia - Malaysian Language). But it's also used to refer to any male significantly older than you (about 30+ years older)

Adik - it means 'younger sister' or 'younger brother' in BM. But it's also used to refer to anyone younger than you.

The Ward Hierarchy

2011-08-13T19:30:00.001+08:00

This is what I’ve observed from my several months as a clinical student: In the wards there is a certain hierarchy.

Medical students are not included in this hierarchy.

[We’re ignored most of the time and treated little less than visitors or observers. We don’t actually contribute to the ward. And I’m pretty sure we make work a little harder for the nurses and doctors since we come in whenever we want, annoy them with our questions whether there’s a case of somethingitis and then proceed to disturb their patients with questions.]

At the top of every ward is the patient.

[The patient? Yeah, well at least that’s what I’ve been told multiple times. And I have to admit, it’s kinda true. The doctors and nurses are there to serve the patients.]

Take the patient out of the equation, then at the top is the specialist. I should put it like this: the Specialist. The Specialist doesn’t wear a white coat and when they walk into a ward, the MO has this spidey sense that they are in the ward.

After the specialist, you have the matron. The Matron. She’s the head of nurses for several wards. They wear a dark green/blue uniform.

Then you have the Sister. No, she’s not a nun or any kind of religious head. She’s the head of nurses for the ward. Well, the head of the ward in reality because even she can boss the MOs and HOs around. She wears a pale blue uniform.

The MO comes next (Medical Officer – what other countries may refer to as ‘resident’). They answer to the Specialist during rounds. These are the doctors that don’t wear white coats in the ward but are almost always in the wards.

Then the Staff Nurse. Most people call them nurses, but I’m pretty sure that’s what their official title is. But they’re called Staff Nurses in the wards.

Then at the bottom most and the ones that serve the above rest for the minimum period of 2 years is the HO. The Houseman. (the intern). These doctors wear white coats inside the wards almost all the time (except for the pediatric ward where white coats are not allowed). They’re fresh out of med school, they look tired and weary almost all the time, and can be seen eating in the elevator as they clutch a lab result in their hand.

So, to sum it up:

The Specialist => the Matron =>the Sister =>the MO =>the Staff Nurse =>the HO

There you have it. The inner hierarchy of a ward in a Malaysian hospital. Of course if you follow pay grade and titles and such, the above doesn’t exist. But once you enter the ward and see how things run, all those technicalities blur and cease to exist.

Some Lessons Learnt From Paediatrics

2011-08-08T22:02:00.000+08:00

There’s a saying somewhere out there in the world that tells you to learn something new each day. Well, today, I have learnt several somethings (so that should be enough to cover me for the rest of the week.)

Today I had a bedside teaching session in the paediatric ward. [These sessions are not every day, usually every other day.]

Today’s session not only gave us a multitude of knowledge on the specialty that is paediatrics, but also gave us some tips on how to raise our children that one day, someday, all of us will have.

Therefore, I include today’s bedside teaching session of ‘Lessons Learnt from Paediatrics’:

1. Don’t let your child fall asleep with a milk bottle or at the mother’s nipple. Apparently this may lead to having holes in the child’s teeth.

2. The younger twin comes out first. So, when people ask who’s older, it’s the twin that was born second.

3. Children who breastfeed have 7-8 higher IQ points.

4. Do not give babies salt, eggs or citric fruits until they’re 1 year old. (The eggs is to prevent allergy to eggs later on.)

5. Girls/Women who want to get pregnant should be taking a folic acid supplement even before trying – to prevent neural tube defects such as spina bifida. Once you find out you’re pregnant it’ll be too late.

There’s more I’m sure, but that’s all I’m able to transcribe from my notes at the moment. I’ll figure out the rest when I rewrite my notes (providing I’m able to read my handwriting. I have horrible handwriting. Refer to the right side of blog under ‘Random Facts About Me’.)

Disclaimer: Though there’s already a disclaimer at the bottom of the blog, I doubt people ever go down there, so here’s a little reminder. Don’t trust me. No, seriously, don’t. These facts are my own understanding from what the Dr said in the teaching session, so for all you know, my understanding is completely skewed, and the above facts are wrong. That said, I believe in what I wrote, so therefore if I ever have a child, follow the above I will.

Ramadan and Paediatrics

2011-08-02T23:46:00.000+08:00

Ramadan Kareem!

It’s that time again when all Muslims around the world fast from sun-up to sun-down. I’m included in this. And I really feel thankful when Ramadan comes around. My faith levels (my ‘iman’ levels) certainly do go up during Ramadan as well as my good deed points (pahala).

[Example: Each letter we read of the Quran during Ramadan is equal to 10 good deed points. So, imagine how many points from reading one sentence? A whole lot, I’ll tell you. Plus, during Ramadan, Muslims believe the gates of Heaven are open, gates of Hell are shut and the devils are chained up.]

I’m now in my paediatrics posting. Just started. I had my first bedside teaching session today.

I presented a case today and my history taking was very poor.

[Paeds history is very extensive and is very detailed.]

[I didn’t relate lymph node swelling in neck + high-grade fever in a 3 year old could somehow be TB. So, I forgot to ask about TB symptoms and TB contact. I also forgot a lot of other details.]

But it was my 1^st paeds class at the ward, so my group was forgiven.

Presenting a paeds case while you’re fasting and with no sahur [meal before sun goes up] is quite tiring. My whole mouth was dry. And I kept trying to produce saliva just so I could keep talking.

Lesson learnt: Eat sahur if I know I’m going to have a bedside class that day.

All I can say is ‘Thank God I’m finished with my medicine posting’. Medicine was one very tiring posting and be in that posting during fasting month would be quite the challenge.

To study: Development of a child. [This seems complicated.]

Happy Fasting to all Muslims! May God bless us all.

One Heck of a Saturday

2011-08-01T01:29:00.000+08:00

Last Saturday, I had an absolutely positively amazing day.

[This is going to be a rather long post. But it had to go put down in my blog.]

It started off with an odd group of us going to see Kellie’s Castle. This odd group was made up of me, Aida, Tilah, and Kamal. 1 guy and 3 girls.

Now Aida and me, I get. We’ve known each other since matriculation and were roommates for a year. Now we’re in the same bedside group (talk about fate huh?). Tilah, I don’t know that well but I like her. And Kamal is a fellow Johorian, and my junior and he’s like a little brother – adik.

So, yeah, this odd group of us went and visited Kellie’s Castle (built sometime in 1900s). It was slightly spooky with signs up saying ghosts have been seen and more than a few ‘hidden’ staircases that made me think Pak Cik Kellie (Uncle Kellie) was one paranoid dude. But seriously, William Kellie Smith had big plans for this castle of his. Unfortunately he died before it could be finished. The unfinished castle is open for visiting - so visit we did.

It’s quite a building with planned tennis courts, rooftop party area, bar, wine cellar, many many rooms, elevator shaft (for the 1^st elevator in Malaysia) and there were even remnants of a brick oven. We fully explored that castle. I wish we could have explored the tunnel that’s rumored to go under the river nearby, but it was closed. For safety reasons I think.

As we were hanging out on the roof of the castle, we then decided to go to Lumut.

So, off we went. It was about a 40 minute drive from Kellie’s castle. Once we got to Lumut, we played local tourists for a while before stopping to eat. Then back to being the local tourist. I bought a bag. Haha..couldn’t resist. It was calling out to me, it was. RM20 for a brown seems-to-have-been-woven-or-at-least-handcrafted (then again maybe not) sling bag seemed quite the bargain to me.

After looking over the sea for a while, we were off again. This time to Teluk Batik. My first time ever being there. Wishing we had brought a change of clothes, we just walked in the water, wetting our feet, and sat in the sand.

We headed back to Ipoh once everybody’s clothes were slightly dried out. Thanks Aida for driving! And for inviting me out that day!

..............

That night, my bedside teaching group went for dinner. There are 9 of us but only 6 could make it.

We piled into Bad’s (pronounced ‘bud’, full name: Badrul) car, with 4 girls in the back, Aida in front and Bad driving (he’s the only guy in our group…poor him…=P).

We planned to go and eat a steamboat dinner but the restaurant we wanted to go to was closed. So, quick decision made and we stopped by a restaurant called Johann Restaurant. We ordered white rice plus many other dishes which included 2 types of tom-yam, fried squid, stuffed omelet, fried kailan with salted fish and ginger fried chicken. It was a quite a feast. Add the watermelon juice and we were full. Of course once done eating, we didn’t exactly stand up to leave. We sat around, drank iced water, and talked.

Once we got up to pay the bill (RM 54 for the 6 of us), we all weren’t ready to end the night. So, we headed over to Gerbang Malam (literally ‘Night Gate’). It’s a night market in the old town part of Ipoh. Rather long and sells all sorts of things. The only thing that makes it different from a Night Market is that it doesn’t sell food or drinks. From clothes, to perfume, to umbrellas, to bags, to handphone accessories, to lamps and sunglasses, there is a bunch of stuff available. And all up for bargain.

We spent almost 2 hours walking around the Gerbang Malam before heading back. Once at Mar’s house however, we all got out. Why? She had bought a firework of some sort at the market and she wanted to try it out. But she was unsure about holding it, so Bad ended up holding it as she lighted it. It turned out to be the kind of firework that makes this whistling noise (we all thought it would just light up), so most of the girls (me included) ran in to Mar’s house compound to hide. Haha…that was funny.

[It was 1am and that neighborhood has many families, okay? We didn’t want to get caught. Besides, any sort of fireworks are illegal here.]

Only after did Bad send all of us home.

Thank you Bad for driving! And thank you to my amazing bedside teaching session Group 6!

My bedside teaching group is awesome.

Yeah, you heard me right. They’re awesome.

(If anyone contradicts me, I’ll just use the little kids’ comeback of “Well, they are!”. Haha..)

Farewell to Medicine - For now..

2011-07-28T14:45:00.000+08:00

It’s the last week of my medicine posting. Tomorrow will be my last bedside teaching session in the medicine wards as far as Phase 2 goes. Soon I’ll be leaving wards 7A, 7B, and 5B, rarely to return ever again until I enter Phase 3A (Yeah, they don’t call it ‘Year’ here, weird huh?). This sounds very melodramatic and all, but in reality it’s not.

I’m not sad. I’m not. I learnt a LOT. Seriously. One 2 and a half hour bedside teaching session will drive information into your brain a 5 hour lecture couldn’t. [Whether it’s retained when we leave the wards and head for the cafeteria is another matter altogether]

It’s at these wards, my group and I stood around a bed for hours on end (or for some doctors, sat around a table), were looked at frustratingly for answering wrong, were interrupted time and time again while speaking, laughed at some joke made to relieve the tension, and examined complete strangers while they looked at us with pity as the doctor yet again got irritated with our method.

So, here’s to feet aches, back aches and brain aches and for the many more that are to come.

A sincere thank you to all the medicine lecturers who taught us, scolded us, questioned us, pushed us so that in the tomorrow that is to come InsyaAllah (God willing), we will be better doctors.

And also a ‘thank you’ to all those wonderful patients who agreed to be examined, poked, prodded, palpated, and who patiently stayed on the bed as we gathered around and the doctor lectured. Thank you.

Soon, it'll be goodbye medicine and hello paediatrics!

Silence.

2011-07-27T23:38:00.000+08:00

[I wrote this a while back. It seems to fit the funk I've been in lately.]

You want to say ‘f*** off’ but you can’t. You want to say ‘go away’, but nothing comes out. And then you try to say ‘come back’ and ‘I’m sorry’, but somehow it’s too late. Somehow those words, even if never said will never undo what was never even done.

Silence.

It’s the loudest lie. And the hardest of betrayals. Because words can be said, can be twisted, can somehow be meant another way, but how do you interpret silence? Silence is silent. It’s the absence of sound, absence of speech yet is laden heavy with meaning. They say silence speaks a thousand words, but do people, whom the silence is directed to, ever understand? If I am silent, how will my thoughts be conveyed?

But I’m too tired to speak. I’m too tired for words. Because it doesn’t seem to matter. It doesn’t seem to help my cause. No matter how much silence may seem to be the better option, it also seems to be the hardest word.

Finals in 2 Months

2011-07-25T03:01:00.000+08:00

There’s 2 more months until finals. And I really shouldn’t be panicking about it. It makes no sense to panic now. But I am. Mostly because I haven’t been studying.

Seriously. I haven’t.

I can hear my friends scoff when I say this to them. Then they proceed to tell me ‘that I’m smart and I don’t need to study’ or ‘smart people don’t need to study’ and so on. I beg to differ.

I’m not smart. Or maybe I am – a bit. But being smart doesn’t really matter. It’s hard work. It’s all those hours of studying everyday along with paying attention in lectures and understanding what you’re reading and just a dash of brains to pass in med school. To pass. If you want to score A’s or get a distinction, you’re going to have to do hell of a lot more.

But lately, I haven’t been studying. I’ve been glued to my computer screen, reading fanfiction, downloading and watching movies. Not the ideal picture of a medical student.

I seriously need to get out of the house. Get out of my room. Go to the college and study. That’s what I used to do before the First Professional Exam at the end of my 2^nd year and it served me well. I did it for months before and a month before the exam, my friends and I would even come on weekends and spend the day there.

Plan of action for Finals: Get out of the house. Study. Reduce time spent online.

Thoughts: Definitely harder than it sounds.

Why Having A 2nd-Hand Car Is Great

2011-07-23T01:42:00.002+08:00

I have a 10 year old car. It used to be my dad's and now it's mine. It's a 2nd-hand car. After a year of owning this car and driving it around, I have come up with several reasons why I think it's great to own a 2nd-hand car.
[Click pictures to enlarge]

1. I get to visit the cute mechanic a lot.

2. I get to name my car terrifying names like "Monster" because of how the engine sounds.

3. I don't get overly anxious over a dent or scratch on my car.

4. I have to get creative when locking my car doors.

5. There is no annoying lit up sign telling me my gas tank is empty.

6. I pray a lot more.

7. The car bounces and rocks to the music as I tap it out on the steering wheel.

8. I get to listen to an orchestra of interesting sounds as I drive.

[All pictures were found on Google and edited by me.]

Lessons Learnt From Car Trouble

2011-07-22T03:29:00.001+08:00

I don’t like going to the mechanic. It’s a chore for me. I’d rather get my teeth pulled out than go to the mechanic. Seriously. [At least the dentist numbs your mouth while he/she does it. The mechanic doesn’t numb your pocket as you pull out your wallet.]

But today (well, technically yesterday), I had to go to the mechanic, or more specifically the tyre shop to replace 2 of my tyres.

I didn’t like my previous mechanic - who whenever I came to service my car, he would suggest I replace car parts that were recently replaced.

So, this time around I tried another shop. Out of random, I picked one closer to my house. And what do you know? Tyre prices were cheaper than the estimates I’ve been getting when I’ve asked around. (yay.)

And then….

one mechanic calls me over, shows me something wrong with my car and recommends I pay for it to be fixed. And 10 minutes later, another mechanic who again shows me something wrong. And later, another ‘something wrong’.

The difference between the mechanic today and my previous mechanic? Today’s mechanic showed me things that were genuinely wrong with my car. Like the wrecked bearings, and the Camber angle of the tyres. And explained to me what was wrong before telling me I should pay for it to be fixed.

1^st Lesson learnt: It gave me an insight to how patients must feel when doctors are telling they need to take this medication or they need to undergo this procedure. It feels better to have things explained to you.

Some I agreed to, some I didn’t. (Mainly because I didn’t have enough money for all that the guy was telling me to fix.) But it was still painful to pull out my wallet and pay the bill (even if it wasn’t my hard-earned money). Painkillers should be invented for pockets and purses. =P

2^nd Lesson learnt: Don’t stick to one mechanic if you’re not satisfied with their work. Try out other shops.

3^rd Lesson learnt: If the mechanic doesn’t explain to you why that specific car part needs to be replaced – ask for an explanation. And don’t trust the guy if he says something like ‘it looks wrong’, especially if hasn’t driven the car yet. (Yes, it almost happened to me with my previous mechanic.)

Direct Translations Are A Bad Idea

2011-07-20T23:39:00.004+08:00

Note to self: Try not to directly translate ever again.

My Bahasa Malaysia (BM) - the national language - has never been perfect. I say things wrong on occasion, make up my own words more often than not and when not sure how to say something, I directly translate.

After an embarrassing encounter with a patient, I have to declare – direct translations are a bad idea. Seriously.

The patient – who happened to be a 2 years younger than me, quite good-looking (what the Malaysians might refer to as jambu-looking – a termed I only learnt last year), lifts weights, plays rugby, friendly and cooperative. (out of all the patients on the night I went to clerk a case, he was the only one sitting upright, alert and willing).

So, yeah. Young. Good-looking. Well-built. Jambu. Friendly. And cooperative.

He had a Tuberculosis infection in the pleural cavity. (Imagine: high-grade fever at night with chills and rigor and night sweats for 3 weeks plus losing 10kg in that short period.).

After taking a history from him, I wanted to auscultate (hear with stethoscope) his chest.

What happened:

TB Kid:“Nak saya buka baju?” (Do you want me to take off my shirt?)

Me – What I meant to say: I’d prefer it because it'd be easier for me.

I meant the above sentence but as I like to directly translate from BM to English, it came out:

“Saya lebih suka awak buka baju sebab lebih senang untuk saya.”

Don’t get it yet?

“Saya lebih suka awak buka baju”

It means, I basically told the guy “Oh, I’d love it if you took off your shirt.”

If You Were A.....

2011-07-19T23:18:00.002+08:00

Good food + good company = great time.

Never underestimate the power of good company and good food. It definitely equals to a great time.

Tonight I ate dinner with 2 of my housemates and another friend at Restoran Waritha (Waritha Restaurant).

Restoran Waritha - slightly above the average prices but good food & service. Open at night only.

[For all those people who stay awake on buses as it approaches Ipoh from the South will know which restaurant I mean. For those that don’t, it’s slightly further up the road from Klinik Kesihatan Gunung Rapat (Gunung Rapat Health Clinic).]

We ordered white rice, tom yom, sweet sour chicken and fried kalian with salted fish. (Yum!) It was good food. I especially enjoyed the kalian and the tomyom.

The food was gone in a short time after it was served. But what made the dinner great fun was my friend, Ilani, who started asking us ‘If you were a…, what would you be?’ while we were finishing up our drinks.

She started with ‘If you were a house pet, which would you be?’. Ilani decided one of my housemates to be a fish, which she protested to, and I somehow ended up being a chameleon. =P

If I were a house pet, I'd be a chameleon. =)

There were many other ‘If you were a…’ circumstances, from an animal to what piece of jewelry to what country we’d be. Mostly we chose for ourselves but sometimes someone would choose for us and it'd be hard to say otherwise. There were plenty of silly ones which made us all shout in laughter. It continued even as were in the car heading home.

Some of the ‘If you were a…’ instances (and my answers):

If you were a flower: Bird of Paradise

If you were a country: Ecuador

If you were a piece of jewelry: Necklace

If you were a martial art: taekwondo

If you were a body of water: waterfall

If you were a tree: willow tree

If you were a sea creature: urchin

If you were a Disney Princess: Mulan

If you were a superhero: Batman

There were many other instances – I just can’t seem to remember them all.

It was great fun and I definitely had a great time. And it’s undeniably a very entertaining way to spend time. To many more times like these with friends – God willing.