2015!

So it's once again a new year, and instead of blogging daily as I did a decade ago, now I barely even recall that this place exists.

When I looked at the previous entry I realise I still have issues with insomnia (it's 243am and still not asleep) despite being postcall and jetlagged. And also, I am still grateful for the same people and things, which I am grateful for. :)

Some things have changed though. Things should start to look up now that exams have finally been cleared off my to do/to pass list, and that I have a magical piece of metal in my hands that make me happy when I look down and see that tinge of red and sparkle.

So this year, all I can say is, life is proceeding in all its glory. Glad to be able to keep a positive outlook with the help of the core pillar of support I call my friends and family. Goodnight for now, off to zhimin's big day in less than 4 hours!

taking stock

in the blink of an eye, and the year's ending. goodbye 2013, i've had enough of you.
although i must say i've definitely been fortunate to have the most supportive people around me.

as always, i think one should always count one's blessings. especially since i'm still awake at 3am.

1) my family - enough said
2) my dearest - for magical waterfalls, split second auroras, and picking me up when i fall down
3) my round table friends - sharing laughter and food over any shape of table, a weekly dose of cheering ups
4) my overflow/bitching buddy - for sweet notes, hairbands that don't break and the numerous "jia you" messages when things don't stop being shitty
5) my ever enthusiastic korean crazed friend - a happy pill, but at the same time someone who provides a safeplace to unburden myself 
6) mylo - my most recent dog, who loves unconditionally and has a temperament so zen-like it's nearly impossible to stay mad at him
7) my oldest friends - who know my heart, and who keep it safe and my feet grounded

ha, this insomnia has led to gratitude and put a little faith back in me. <3 br="">

let your heart hold fast

2 weeks of an interesting purgatory-like state and it's hitting me that if i were more competent and more exam-smart, i could have a potentially easy life.

however, it's been proven by not just one but several authorities that my intelligence was only good till the level of a junior college student. and thereafter, every year in the past decade has been spent with knowledge flaking off me like horrible dandruff.

how to catch up and get where i want to get without sacrificing my stomach, sleep and social life? please let me have the discipline, good luck and perseverence to get through this!

let your heart hold fast
for this too shall pass
like the high tides take the sand

if you have something to say, say it to my face, not my facebook.

in 2 weeks i will possibly be faced with a new title, and start work in the place i have convinced myself i want to be at. with much trepidation if i may add.

a bit lost, too scared to admit to anyone else that what i don't know is far greater than what i have scraped together in my 3 years of "see one do one teach one" working experience. dare not start reading, for fear of being engulfed in a million and one textbooks and my own stupidity.

the stress is making me space out, lose sleep and hair but never any weight. and the worst part is, i believe i brought this upon myself. kill me now.

hello.

it's been a while hasn't it; came here accidentally, while clicking around on a food blogger's page.

just some updates -
1) nothing to emo about cos life's been great :)
2) tomorrow is my last day (for the next 7 mths) in my current work place and it hasn't hit me yet, so just a reminder to myself to take in the moment and be glad for the 2.5 years of crazy calls, crazy colleagues and of course, crazy patients.
3) potential puppy purchase is making me too excited to sleep
4) the new iphone5 is giving me a headache cos of the overly-saturated nature of the colour palette. URGH. might just change to get a note2.
5) just to sum it up, life's been great :)

sianness of unknown origin

i am lying in bed with my macbookair, thinking of how much of my material assets i do not use. when i come home the only things i ever really touch are my toiletries, the bed and the computer. there's no need for all the soft toys, storybooks, posters of jaychou, and thousands of postcards/keychains/trinkets randomly collected over the years. they don't seem to add any value. i can't even remember when or how i came by half of them. feel like throwing out everything, pressing delete, and starting from scratch.

just me, the bed, a toothbrush and my macbookair.

i feel like i'm in limbo. can i really bring myself to just pack every object, that somehow used to be a part of my growing up, into black plastic bags and not give a hoot? what if my macbookair crashes and all the photographs i did not develop were to disappear forever and ever?

i also feel like i want to quit working and travel forever and ever. be a stranger in a strange land, although i like the familiarity of my bed, the smell of my kitchen and the warmth that spreads through my chest when i hear the heavy breathing of the rocky monster the moment i step into the house. i want to just float around, and not be committed to anything just for a few years or so. damn the bond. but is that just an excuse for not being brave enough to just go?

hai.

maybe lack of rest, proximity to exams, or simply the underexposure to sunshine is making me feel this way. or a retarded quarter century crisis kinda thing.

redefining hope

on normal night calls, just a glance to check if it's a real plastic IC rather than a photocopied version. but last night i had some time, and was (honestly) attracted to the blue tag to be attached to the body.

so i took a longer look at the photograph. a fine featured lady, with well groomed hair and a smile that radiated confidence and sheer happiness. out of curiosity i flipped open the big blue case file, its thickness an indication of her length of stay.

on the first page, in large clear letters, an order for no extraordinary measures to resuscitate her if she were to pass on. and her diagnosis - which happened to be the same as the cause of death, in as few words as possible (each letter on the death certificate costs money)

subsequent pages in the file were a summary of her condition till date. somehow it was not as medical-jargon-littered as i expected it to be. it started off with her social background - 49 and already widowed a few years ago, with 2 children under the age of 30. a beautician by training. it struck me that the man at her bedside was probably my age or thereabouts. the only difference is that i still felt like a kid while he was a grown person with a heavy load on his shoulders; it's never easy to watch your only living parent take her last gasp of breath. it's never easy to watch the process of deterioration, from fighting a cancer so bravely to stopping all therapy and just waiting and praying for It to be as painless and peaceful as possible. it's never easy to find your world spinning madly out of control and changing forever more.

he asked me if i was here to certify the death. it was the most awkward question because i was the one who was called yet i had no license to do so. all i could do was wait for a senior. he didn't know what i was saying, i don't think it mattered. his mind was overwhelmed with change, it did not matter that i was not the one to pronounce the death.

meanwhile, i went behind the curtains to check for any signs of life. not that i was expecting to find any as soon as i saw the flatline on the monitor. a moment of solitude without her family members who had throughout the night, one by one, streamed in and out. in that minute while i was there, i served no purpose. i could not bring her back, nor could i offer comfort or closure to the family who had their fair share of grief that night. they already knew, they already came to say their peace.

no one had bothered to switch off the wall oxygen, vigorously streaming air into her via nasal prongs, obviously to no avail. it seemed a tragic joke for a milisecond. i turned down the oxygen, and covered her exposed areas with a blanket; the ecg leads were hanging precariously from her unmoving chest as someone had moved the machine and dragged the leads with them. then i looked at her face and startled myself. this was not the woman in the photograph. her left eye was swollen shut, her right eye was fixed, half open, half staring ahead. her frozen face so haggard and sallow it was completely unrecognisable. the photograph did not capture the hours of misery she must have endured, from making the decision to stop her therapy, to telling her children, to accepting death. if at all. her left hand was puffy, and cold to touch - yes i still reached out to pat her hand to comfort her, out of reflex i guess.

i wondered, if she was a troublesome patient and seriously doubted it. their perspective must have been the complete polar opposite from the rest of the patients'. it was just a quiet few minutes of the night call that brought along such reflective thoughts i'm not eloquent enough to put down in words. if you knew your patient only had a limited time and there's nothing to do to stop It, would you still try your damndest to help them? how? by making things easier for them and their families, what with the circumstances, the managing team pulls out all stops and takes nothing lightly. so many people hope to be cured, but special patients these are. they hope to go... on their own terms. no wonder they call it redefining the meaning of hope.