Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Saya Telah DiSeksa
Saya rasa inilah cara terbaik yang saya boleh timbul- dengan, untuk mengasap keluarkan kebengangan saya terhadap rakan sekerja saya yang ternyata semalam telah beraksi dengan tidak sangat bertanggungjawab.
Mengapa saya tulis dalam bahasa ibunda saya? Kerana kelewatan ini, blog saya ini, saya dapati telah diterokai oleh mereka ditempat kerja. Misi misi juga telah menggelakkan saya kerana memblogkan diri saya. Oleh kerana itu saya akan melekat kepada bahasa melayu.
Saya telah seperti biasa seperti ramai doktor doktor lain masuk kerja pada pukul 8:30 pagi. Tiada apa yang ganjil dengan memasuki kerja pada pukul tersebut. Selepas meronda ronda katil pesakit di Unit rawatan Rapi, saya meletakkan kaki keatas dengan secawan kopi.
Boss telah membleep saya dan menyuruh saya pergi ke unit perempuan beranak kerana ada perempuan yang bayi dalam kandungan ialah tersekat dan enggan keluar. Jadi dia terpaksa mendapat anak keluar dengan C-section.
Tapi itu bukan tugas saya!!!! Hanya kerana Unit rawatan rapi tidak sibuk mestikah saya kena tutup tugas untuk mereka yang tak datang kerja kerana sakit sedikit? Saya akur dan buat sahaja. Rupa rupanya bukan itu sahaja. Ada lagi satu kes yang menunggu untuk dibuat. Jadi itu juga saya buat dengan tidak berkata apa apa.
Saya sepatutnya habis pada pukul 8:30 malam, jadi itu ialah 12 jam shift.
(Ya kita memang berkerja jam lama lama, bersyukur lah kamu semua yang bekerja dimeja dan makan mengikut waktu..mungkin ini sebab saya selalu rasa nak makan kepala orang).
Pada pukul 9 malam, sepatutnya homosapien bernama Dave patutnya telah muncul untuk ambil alih tugas supaya saya boleh pulang. Tapi tidak juga muncul muncul. Saya berasa telinga saya berasap. Atas semua itu, saya kebuluran dan mahu buang air nombor 2. Saya risau kalau saya pergi tandas lama lama dan Dave muncul dia akan tercari cari.
Saya bertindak liar dan memeras ugut nombor hp Dave dari Kevin yang mahu pulang juga pada waktu itu seperti saya. Saya beranikan diri tekan tekan nombornya. Terkejut terkejut mendapat petisuara hp dia. Saya meninggalkan pesanan yang agak berkesan tetapi tidak keterlaluan.
Saya gantung balik dan tekan tekan nombor boss pula untuk amaran kepadanya perihal Dave membuat hal. Dia juga berfikiran seperti saya. Penuh misteri. Saya harap tidaklah terlalu kurang ajar pesanan saya itu. Ia berbunyi begini.
'Hi Dave it's Naj, it's 9 o'clock now and I am hoping to get off duty soon. I hope you are alright and you are on your way in. You do know that you are taking over from me tonight yes?. Do return my call. Speak to you soon'. Seperti yang saya katakan. Tidaklah melepasi kepala bukan?
Beberapa puluh minit kemudian, saya dibleep dan gadis penjaga litar menghubungi saya kepada panggilan luar. Deringan panggilan luar lain bunyinya. Bukan Teeeeeeeeeeeeet Teeeeeeeeeeet seperti biasa. Lebih kepada tet tet *sunyi*tet tet*sunyi*.
Ia adalah Dave. Dia begitu sungguh sungguh meminta maaf kerana menyebabkan saya terjebak dalam masalah. Dia masih sakit katanya. Entah mengapa saya hanya mampu berkata 'It's ok' berulang ulang kali seperti burung kakaktua.
Mungkin kerana dia bercakap seperti boss. Sesiapa saja bercakap seperti boss, selalunya membuatkan saya sedikit kelu seperti ada daging tersekat didalam kerongkong.Entah mengapa lah.
Saya tekan balik nombor boss dan melaporkan perihal mengapa dan kenapa. Dia dengan selamba ( ini ialah boss yang sama yang menyuruh saya kerja di unit perempuan beranak awal hari tadi) menyuruh saya sambung sahaja 12 jam lagi.
Ini bermakna saya tutup untuk Dave dan saya akan bekerja selama 24 jam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ini adalah penderaan. Saya tidak dapat berkata apa apa. Mungkin jika saya kerut kerutkan muka supaya nampak lebih tua atau garaukan suara supaya lebih kedepan boss akan mendengar 'but...but..' saya yang samar samar.
Saya berfikiran positif dan membuat tugasan tersebut. Saya berjaya meletakkan kepala keatas bantal pada pukul 2 pagi apabila hospital sunyi dan sepi. Tiba -tiba saya terbeliak mata kerana dibleep dengan kuat sekali. Ada lagi perempuanyang nak beranak dan anaknya tidak mahu keluarrrrrr arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!.
Saya rasa seperti diletak dalam peti kebuk wasap dalam kelas Kimia Miss Limerick. (Cikgu ini adalah yang paling banyak memberi A kepada saya. Saya sungguh sayangkannya)
Setiba saya di sana perut saya merasa begitu aneh. Seperti ada toyol membuat lompat bintang dengan begitu sungguh sungguh. Saya rasa bilik berputar dan lantai tidak sama tinggi.
Saya terasa keinginan yang melampau untuk membuang isi perut dan saya berlari ke sink paling laju saya boleh, dan membuat bunyi bunyian yang aneh, yang membuat muka seseorang berubah menjadi seperti monyet kerana begitu geli kepada bunyi tersebut.
Sarah seorang daripada misi misi dengan selambanya berkata 'Is there something you wanna tell us Naj???'. Misi lain menyeringai mungkin fikir itu adalah lawak bodoh. Tidak sama sekali.
Bayang sahaja, saya ini tengah muntah muntah seperti semua usus mahu keluar dalam sink , mereka pula mengkambingkan muka mereka. Saya sangat tidak terpikat pada pukul 3 pagi ini, jadi saya tidak ketawa. Mereka juga berhenti menjadi kambing. Bagus.
Setelah selesai tugas, Sarah hampiri saya dengan kopi. Saya rasa bersalah kerana memanjangkan muka tadi, dan menerimanya. Kami cium dan bermaafan (bukan secara terus, hanya perumpamaan sahaja).
Saya rasa adalah penting jika kita setuju untuk buat sesuatu, kita buat dengan ikhlas. Bukan macam saya, kerana saya tidak ikhlas, secara terus dan cepat saya dibalas dengan muntah muntah. Ini mungkin kerana quiche yang saya telan secara gelojoh sebelum tidur mengandungi begitu banyak keju. Keju berlebihan tidak pernah setuju dengan perut saya.
Saya amat penat. Saya masih lagi tidak tidur. Mungkin terlebih mengkaffeinkan diri.
So that's really the story of how Malacca got it's name, for more info please google Melaka, Malaysia.
Mengapa saya tulis dalam bahasa ibunda saya? Kerana kelewatan ini, blog saya ini, saya dapati telah diterokai oleh mereka ditempat kerja. Misi misi juga telah menggelakkan saya kerana memblogkan diri saya. Oleh kerana itu saya akan melekat kepada bahasa melayu.
Saya telah seperti biasa seperti ramai doktor doktor lain masuk kerja pada pukul 8:30 pagi. Tiada apa yang ganjil dengan memasuki kerja pada pukul tersebut. Selepas meronda ronda katil pesakit di Unit rawatan Rapi, saya meletakkan kaki keatas dengan secawan kopi.
Boss telah membleep saya dan menyuruh saya pergi ke unit perempuan beranak kerana ada perempuan yang bayi dalam kandungan ialah tersekat dan enggan keluar. Jadi dia terpaksa mendapat anak keluar dengan C-section.
Tapi itu bukan tugas saya!!!! Hanya kerana Unit rawatan rapi tidak sibuk mestikah saya kena tutup tugas untuk mereka yang tak datang kerja kerana sakit sedikit? Saya akur dan buat sahaja. Rupa rupanya bukan itu sahaja. Ada lagi satu kes yang menunggu untuk dibuat. Jadi itu juga saya buat dengan tidak berkata apa apa.
Saya sepatutnya habis pada pukul 8:30 malam, jadi itu ialah 12 jam shift.
(Ya kita memang berkerja jam lama lama, bersyukur lah kamu semua yang bekerja dimeja dan makan mengikut waktu..mungkin ini sebab saya selalu rasa nak makan kepala orang).
Pada pukul 9 malam, sepatutnya homosapien bernama Dave patutnya telah muncul untuk ambil alih tugas supaya saya boleh pulang. Tapi tidak juga muncul muncul. Saya berasa telinga saya berasap. Atas semua itu, saya kebuluran dan mahu buang air nombor 2. Saya risau kalau saya pergi tandas lama lama dan Dave muncul dia akan tercari cari.
Saya bertindak liar dan memeras ugut nombor hp Dave dari Kevin yang mahu pulang juga pada waktu itu seperti saya. Saya beranikan diri tekan tekan nombornya. Terkejut terkejut mendapat petisuara hp dia. Saya meninggalkan pesanan yang agak berkesan tetapi tidak keterlaluan.
Saya gantung balik dan tekan tekan nombor boss pula untuk amaran kepadanya perihal Dave membuat hal. Dia juga berfikiran seperti saya. Penuh misteri. Saya harap tidaklah terlalu kurang ajar pesanan saya itu. Ia berbunyi begini.
'Hi Dave it's Naj, it's 9 o'clock now and I am hoping to get off duty soon. I hope you are alright and you are on your way in. You do know that you are taking over from me tonight yes?. Do return my call. Speak to you soon'. Seperti yang saya katakan. Tidaklah melepasi kepala bukan?
Beberapa puluh minit kemudian, saya dibleep dan gadis penjaga litar menghubungi saya kepada panggilan luar. Deringan panggilan luar lain bunyinya. Bukan Teeeeeeeeeeeeet Teeeeeeeeeeet seperti biasa. Lebih kepada tet tet *sunyi*tet tet*sunyi*.
Ia adalah Dave. Dia begitu sungguh sungguh meminta maaf kerana menyebabkan saya terjebak dalam masalah. Dia masih sakit katanya. Entah mengapa saya hanya mampu berkata 'It's ok' berulang ulang kali seperti burung kakaktua.
Mungkin kerana dia bercakap seperti boss. Sesiapa saja bercakap seperti boss, selalunya membuatkan saya sedikit kelu seperti ada daging tersekat didalam kerongkong.Entah mengapa lah.
Saya tekan balik nombor boss dan melaporkan perihal mengapa dan kenapa. Dia dengan selamba ( ini ialah boss yang sama yang menyuruh saya kerja di unit perempuan beranak awal hari tadi) menyuruh saya sambung sahaja 12 jam lagi.
Ini bermakna saya tutup untuk Dave dan saya akan bekerja selama 24 jam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ini adalah penderaan. Saya tidak dapat berkata apa apa. Mungkin jika saya kerut kerutkan muka supaya nampak lebih tua atau garaukan suara supaya lebih kedepan boss akan mendengar 'but...but..' saya yang samar samar.
Saya berfikiran positif dan membuat tugasan tersebut. Saya berjaya meletakkan kepala keatas bantal pada pukul 2 pagi apabila hospital sunyi dan sepi. Tiba -tiba saya terbeliak mata kerana dibleep dengan kuat sekali. Ada lagi perempuanyang nak beranak dan anaknya tidak mahu keluarrrrrr arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!.
Saya rasa seperti diletak dalam peti kebuk wasap dalam kelas Kimia Miss Limerick. (Cikgu ini adalah yang paling banyak memberi A kepada saya. Saya sungguh sayangkannya)
Setiba saya di sana perut saya merasa begitu aneh. Seperti ada toyol membuat lompat bintang dengan begitu sungguh sungguh. Saya rasa bilik berputar dan lantai tidak sama tinggi.
Saya terasa keinginan yang melampau untuk membuang isi perut dan saya berlari ke sink paling laju saya boleh, dan membuat bunyi bunyian yang aneh, yang membuat muka seseorang berubah menjadi seperti monyet kerana begitu geli kepada bunyi tersebut.
Sarah seorang daripada misi misi dengan selambanya berkata 'Is there something you wanna tell us Naj???'. Misi lain menyeringai mungkin fikir itu adalah lawak bodoh. Tidak sama sekali.
Bayang sahaja, saya ini tengah muntah muntah seperti semua usus mahu keluar dalam sink , mereka pula mengkambingkan muka mereka. Saya sangat tidak terpikat pada pukul 3 pagi ini, jadi saya tidak ketawa. Mereka juga berhenti menjadi kambing. Bagus.
Setelah selesai tugas, Sarah hampiri saya dengan kopi. Saya rasa bersalah kerana memanjangkan muka tadi, dan menerimanya. Kami cium dan bermaafan (bukan secara terus, hanya perumpamaan sahaja).
Saya rasa adalah penting jika kita setuju untuk buat sesuatu, kita buat dengan ikhlas. Bukan macam saya, kerana saya tidak ikhlas, secara terus dan cepat saya dibalas dengan muntah muntah. Ini mungkin kerana quiche yang saya telan secara gelojoh sebelum tidur mengandungi begitu banyak keju. Keju berlebihan tidak pernah setuju dengan perut saya.
Saya amat penat. Saya masih lagi tidak tidur. Mungkin terlebih mengkaffeinkan diri.
So that's really the story of how Malacca got it's name, for more info please google Melaka, Malaysia.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Thou Shall Not
maim the patient;
make the patient aware;
kill the patient;
Strictly in that order, as recited by the superiors in the corridor on a *(*&%$£ Monday morning.
Why in that order? I heard myself retorting. As a trainee causing the most trouble, the very question is now my 2000 word assignment.
Me and my big gob.
make the patient aware;
kill the patient;
Strictly in that order, as recited by the superiors in the corridor on a *(*&%$£ Monday morning.
Why in that order? I heard myself retorting. As a trainee causing the most trouble, the very question is now my 2000 word assignment.
Me and my big gob.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Lazy Saturday
I love waking up in the morning , only to turn the pillow to the other side so that I can feel the coolnest of the other side and go back to snoozing. I also love waking up knowing that it's Saturday and knowing that I am not on-call, and I would smile a bit because I know it's not yet Sunday. I feel rich like that.
I love the soothing feeling the micro bubbles doing mini poppings tickling my sleepy skin as I ease myself into the hotbath. I love the fact that if the phone rings I could do a submarine and I wouldn't hear it anymore. I feel safe like that.
Provided Maggie is not in the flat. She likes answering the phone. She's good like that, but I hate the way she thumps on my door.
I am still recuperating from those two night shifts I did. I am pretty sure though, that my sleep is still in debt, because I woke up with a headache. A tension headache. I don't take paracetamol because I hate popping pills, and I hate needles and will not have them on me and I would not have a urinary catheter ever ever in my life.
I have slept half of today having not slept a wink last night. I succumbed to the escalating weight on my eyelids at 8:00 am this morning which slumbered me into one of the most most vivid and weird dreams I've ever had.
I was in a dark and humid building looking up at a staircase. The air felt stale, the walls had gathered some green patchy stuff. The windows were fuzzy and on some squares of the windows, the glasses where missing, so the wind entrained through. So the place was chilly.
I went up because I heard a noise. The kind of noise that makes you want to find out more, because it was not a threatening one. The kind that threatens is like such in The Grudge when that stupid sister of the dead guy received the phone call but there was nobody at the other end apart from that threatening noise. Scare the shit out of me that. Felt sorry for the dear friend who went to watch it with me.
Back to the noise then, I got there to find a guy (not a fiction, he does roam the surface of this earth somewhere) doing monkey business with a half naked woman. I felt like a balloon expanding inside my chest. I felt like that because I know the guy and I know the girl. I ran down and left the building.
I came to a dark street and I had a gun in my hand. Don't ask me how I got it but I was to shoot at a car on the opposite side of the road. A loud PA system was shrieking at me to shoot.
Shoot now!!!, shoot now!!
Barking mad!!I panicked.
Didn't like that. I never liked being rushed and also I don't like being told or having to tell something over and over again.
I fired.
Bang! bang! and more cars popped up from nowhere. Something like a replay.I kept shooting of course and I saw bags of gold dropping from the sky everytime my shots hit the target. Each gold pouch carried $500.
As I was doing that a bright light came from the sky and I heard a staccatoing noise like those made if you hit the rug quickly, many many times with a broom to get rid of the dust.
It became deafeningly louder and I couldn't open my eyes because it was very bright. I saw a man stretching out his arm towards me from a helicoptre. He had a friendly smile and one of those mouthpiece thingies for talking to the pilot and also a helmet. So I gave him my arm.
I woke up with a massive headache.
More headaches:
My shitty car wouldn't start this evening. I have nothing in the fridge and ASDA has now closed. My orchid plant is now semi dead because I have not watered it for about a month. It says the plant doesn't need frequent watering but I think I have overdone it. J will curse when he found out about this.The plant has been resuscitated but prognosis is not good.My raya kuih has finished due to continuous scoffing reflex so now officially for me raya has ended. My washing machine has packed up and now I get dizzy everytime I walk past the pile of laundry. My shower is broken so I can only take baths. I hate taking a bath on weekdays because I will get carried away and will be late for work which is not good. My £167 worth of anaesthetic books have been sitting on the shelf collecting dust since I bought them 2 weeks ago with intense motivation to study.
My mood: blearghhhh
My conclusion: PASSION should be closed down and flirty indon girls should just go back to indon.
I love the soothing feeling the micro bubbles doing mini poppings tickling my sleepy skin as I ease myself into the hotbath. I love the fact that if the phone rings I could do a submarine and I wouldn't hear it anymore. I feel safe like that.
Provided Maggie is not in the flat. She likes answering the phone. She's good like that, but I hate the way she thumps on my door.
I am still recuperating from those two night shifts I did. I am pretty sure though, that my sleep is still in debt, because I woke up with a headache. A tension headache. I don't take paracetamol because I hate popping pills, and I hate needles and will not have them on me and I would not have a urinary catheter ever ever in my life.
I have slept half of today having not slept a wink last night. I succumbed to the escalating weight on my eyelids at 8:00 am this morning which slumbered me into one of the most most vivid and weird dreams I've ever had.
I was in a dark and humid building looking up at a staircase. The air felt stale, the walls had gathered some green patchy stuff. The windows were fuzzy and on some squares of the windows, the glasses where missing, so the wind entrained through. So the place was chilly.
I went up because I heard a noise. The kind of noise that makes you want to find out more, because it was not a threatening one. The kind that threatens is like such in The Grudge when that stupid sister of the dead guy received the phone call but there was nobody at the other end apart from that threatening noise. Scare the shit out of me that. Felt sorry for the dear friend who went to watch it with me.
Back to the noise then, I got there to find a guy (not a fiction, he does roam the surface of this earth somewhere) doing monkey business with a half naked woman. I felt like a balloon expanding inside my chest. I felt like that because I know the guy and I know the girl. I ran down and left the building.
I came to a dark street and I had a gun in my hand. Don't ask me how I got it but I was to shoot at a car on the opposite side of the road. A loud PA system was shrieking at me to shoot.
Shoot now!!!, shoot now!!
Barking mad!!I panicked.
Didn't like that. I never liked being rushed and also I don't like being told or having to tell something over and over again.
I fired.
Bang! bang! and more cars popped up from nowhere. Something like a replay.I kept shooting of course and I saw bags of gold dropping from the sky everytime my shots hit the target. Each gold pouch carried $500.
As I was doing that a bright light came from the sky and I heard a staccatoing noise like those made if you hit the rug quickly, many many times with a broom to get rid of the dust.
It became deafeningly louder and I couldn't open my eyes because it was very bright. I saw a man stretching out his arm towards me from a helicoptre. He had a friendly smile and one of those mouthpiece thingies for talking to the pilot and also a helmet. So I gave him my arm.
I woke up with a massive headache.
More headaches:
My shitty car wouldn't start this evening. I have nothing in the fridge and ASDA has now closed. My orchid plant is now semi dead because I have not watered it for about a month. It says the plant doesn't need frequent watering but I think I have overdone it. J will curse when he found out about this.The plant has been resuscitated but prognosis is not good.My raya kuih has finished due to continuous scoffing reflex so now officially for me raya has ended. My washing machine has packed up and now I get dizzy everytime I walk past the pile of laundry. My shower is broken so I can only take baths. I hate taking a bath on weekdays because I will get carried away and will be late for work which is not good. My £167 worth of anaesthetic books have been sitting on the shelf collecting dust since I bought them 2 weeks ago with intense motivation to study.
My mood: blearghhhh
My conclusion: PASSION should be closed down and flirty indon girls should just go back to indon.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Pharmaton
So I take supplement. Sue me. A lot of people do. Most people don't need it, unless they work for the NHS and live on fish and chips or tea and toast.
I have arrived at a conclusion I do need it. Now, I take Pharmaton. Purely because it was sent to me by a dear friend who thought it would get rid of those gaunt, haggard always-tired look on me of late. It's about £15.99 per bottle. Bloody expensive I thought, so eat them I did. It has got selenium, so not bad at all.
One capsule is about 2" x 0.5". Bloody huge!!!!! I have always been careful swallowing them, but a mishap occured today when I was feeling far too adventurous.
Personal rules:
1)Always pop it longitudinal on the tongue and push it as far back as possible. (without gagging and squawking of course).
2)Wash it down with a pleasant chilled/cold non fizzy drink.
What did I do? Like perempuan malas I shoved the pill in and drank HOT TEA!! You know lah the coating of these pills are made of some sort of jelly. So when it comes in contact with hot fluid what happened? Yesss lah , melt it did, so it got stuck at the back of my padan muka throat , SIDEWAYS!!!!!
Oh oh oh ...after a brief episode of PussInBoots-hairball-incident, I sat on the bed thinking, what if?
Wiping reddening sweaty face, watery reddish eyes and sniffly snout s.l.o.w.l.y.. Blerrghhhhhh!
I have arrived at a conclusion I do need it. Now, I take Pharmaton. Purely because it was sent to me by a dear friend who thought it would get rid of those gaunt, haggard always-tired look on me of late. It's about £15.99 per bottle. Bloody expensive I thought, so eat them I did. It has got selenium, so not bad at all.
One capsule is about 2" x 0.5". Bloody huge!!!!! I have always been careful swallowing them, but a mishap occured today when I was feeling far too adventurous.
Personal rules:
1)Always pop it longitudinal on the tongue and push it as far back as possible. (without gagging and squawking of course).
2)Wash it down with a pleasant chilled/cold non fizzy drink.
What did I do? Like perempuan malas I shoved the pill in and drank HOT TEA!! You know lah the coating of these pills are made of some sort of jelly. So when it comes in contact with hot fluid what happened? Yesss lah , melt it did, so it got stuck at the back of my padan muka throat , SIDEWAYS!!!!!
Oh oh oh ...after a brief episode of PussInBoots-hairball-incident, I sat on the bed thinking, what if?
Wiping reddening sweaty face, watery reddish eyes and sniffly snout s.l.o.w.l.y.. Blerrghhhhhh!
I Love It When
I love it when,
1)You make me coffee with extra milk and honey (instead of sugar), just how I like it.
2)You make me coffee just before I go to work. (I know you didn't make one for yourself cos u were going back to bed).
3)You still think I am sexy even in the blimming bluescrubs.
4)You let me wear your XXL coat when it's windy and cold and it's still a long way to get home.
5)You let me change the gear when you're driving.
6)You give up your seat in the bus for the old lady with 7 heavy Tesco bags.
7)You drive fast and furiously slick and put your arms out across my seat when you do emergency break. (Even when you know well that I never not wear the seatbelt when you are driving) .
8)You panic when I go quiet on the phone.
9)You offer to call back when I ring because you have freeminutes and mine is only after 6pm (stupid cellular operations).
10)You didn't sleep all night just to make sure I wake up on time to get to work.
11)You' d watch the movie twice just because I haven't watched it and I heard it was good. (should have told me it was crap and that you've watched it!)
12)You'd hide my debit card just before you call out for the bill when we go out for a meal.
13)You'd get the fork the knife the napkin, the Peri-Peri sauce and the bottomless soft drinks while I sat there not doing anything.
14)You'd swap and stand on my right everytime we cross the road. (I hope you'd stand on the left if we go to America)
15)You'd call and leave me ()*)&^%&R$% messages on my answering machine whenever I am at work.
16)You'd call me various names including missing the h and the j and bitch on a really good day.
17)You let me borrow your R&A paper so that I can copy it for the term exam.
18)You tied a balloon to my pony tail , only to untie it back and say sorry cos I didn't have a clue I was promoting Pizza hut for half an hour along the high street.
19)You make me promise to switch the phone on at work even knowing that I would be busy and put the phone in the locker anyway.
20)You'd call to jemput makan everytime we're not dining/eating together.
21)You let me name some things that matter using my stupid language.
22)You drive all the way up to both that place and this place just because I couldn't make up my mind( and still drove me to the other place after I've decided I don't like that and this place)
23)You always let me have more share than you but of course later you'll get back your share by eating it off my plate.
24)You get furious when I cut my hair.
25) You call yourself a shit when you have to go out alone on Friday nights and I am at home recuperating from a shitty on-call.
26) You asked for a stethoscope for a birthday present.
27) You told me Natalie Portman looked like me. (you later had your eyes checked)
28) You agreed that women are better navigator than men. (I agree the A to Z is a funny funny book with lots of squiggle..*cough*)
29) You talked about amygdala and hypothalamus as if you've done a thesis on them whenever I told you about my male collegues.
30) You 'd become the changing room mirror when we I mean I go shopping.
31)I don't have to think when writing about you, only stopping at this point because I am so so sleepy I could sleep for England..
Or perhaps I am already in the lala-land
Good night you, wherever you are now.
1)You make me coffee with extra milk and honey (instead of sugar), just how I like it.
2)You make me coffee just before I go to work. (I know you didn't make one for yourself cos u were going back to bed).
3)You still think I am sexy even in the blimming bluescrubs.
4)You let me wear your XXL coat when it's windy and cold and it's still a long way to get home.
5)You let me change the gear when you're driving.
6)You give up your seat in the bus for the old lady with 7 heavy Tesco bags.
7)You drive fast and furiously slick and put your arms out across my seat when you do emergency break. (Even when you know well that I never not wear the seatbelt when you are driving) .
8)You panic when I go quiet on the phone.
9)You offer to call back when I ring because you have freeminutes and mine is only after 6pm (stupid cellular operations).
10)You didn't sleep all night just to make sure I wake up on time to get to work.
11)You' d watch the movie twice just because I haven't watched it and I heard it was good. (should have told me it was crap and that you've watched it!)
12)You'd hide my debit card just before you call out for the bill when we go out for a meal.
13)You'd get the fork the knife the napkin, the Peri-Peri sauce and the bottomless soft drinks while I sat there not doing anything.
14)You'd swap and stand on my right everytime we cross the road. (I hope you'd stand on the left if we go to America)
15)You'd call and leave me ()*)&^%&R$% messages on my answering machine whenever I am at work.
16)You'd call me various names including missing the h and the j and bitch on a really good day.
17)You let me borrow your R&A paper so that I can copy it for the term exam.
18)You tied a balloon to my pony tail , only to untie it back and say sorry cos I didn't have a clue I was promoting Pizza hut for half an hour along the high street.
19)You make me promise to switch the phone on at work even knowing that I would be busy and put the phone in the locker anyway.
20)You'd call to jemput makan everytime we're not dining/eating together.
21)You let me name some things that matter using my stupid language.
22)You drive all the way up to both that place and this place just because I couldn't make up my mind( and still drove me to the other place after I've decided I don't like that and this place)
23)You always let me have more share than you but of course later you'll get back your share by eating it off my plate.
24)You get furious when I cut my hair.
25) You call yourself a shit when you have to go out alone on Friday nights and I am at home recuperating from a shitty on-call.
26) You asked for a stethoscope for a birthday present.
27) You told me Natalie Portman looked like me. (you later had your eyes checked)
28) You agreed that women are better navigator than men. (I agree the A to Z is a funny funny book with lots of squiggle..*cough*)
29) You talked about amygdala and hypothalamus as if you've done a thesis on them whenever I told you about my male collegues.
30) You 'd become the changing room mirror when we I mean I go shopping.
31)I don't have to think when writing about you, only stopping at this point because I am so so sleepy I could sleep for England..
Or perhaps I am already in the lala-land
Good night you, wherever you are now.
Of Being a Registrar
Just got back from Medical Admission Unit. Got called there to see a 44 year old woman in acute exarcebation of asthma.
Doesn't matter what I did there, bottomline is I AM NOT THERE TO DO YOUR JOB !!!!.
"Please could we have your review with regards to managing this patient in intensive care unit" Sign, Dr G.
Bollocks! I got there and thought well ok yeah she needs to go to the unit, she's tiring herself and kept having this apnoiec attacks. So the medical registrar grinned the grin of yea-she-is-now-your-patient-take-her-away-quick-before-my-tea-gets-cold.
He had heavily stained teeth. Is it tea or smoking?
I looked at the treatment chart and something was not quite right. This is somebody who had been to the ITU so many times so much so that when I mentioned her name to the staff, they remembered her. So you would think that when she started wheezing, barking, semi-popping her eyeballs like a fish flunked of the water by some pussycat, trying to get some decent amount of oxygen in, they would have given the nebuliser back to back and maybe Magnesium Sulphate as well.
Fuh that was a long sentence. The pizza was hard and slightly stale. Must be the four cheeses.
Instead? The patient was on 24% oxygen, (this is asthma for crying out loud, not blimming COPD), the nebulisers had not been given, and she's on aminophylline which is so out of fashion.
Clarified this with the medical registrar and even went on the British Thoracic Society guideline homepage to show him the evidence based practice.
Crap! I sound old and pedantic. Kiasu +++++
We got there in the end and we were going to hold fire with her as she was more settled. See how she goes for the next 4 hours. I mean fair enough she tiring with all that extra work of breathing but we have not given her the maximum treatment medically have we? So really you guys ought to do your job properly. (The last phrase got stuck in my throat so, no, had not been nasty to medical people).
4 hours? I'd be home by then. That's the main idea really.
Had a weirdest feeling ever as I was reading the comment by Dr. G though.
"Discussed with the intensive care registrar (Dr. N Ahmad), who is happy to review the patient".
Now, I am quite happy doing this job minus the cold-sweat-breaking-moments I get from time to time, but being called a registrar sends chill down my spine. I don't believe I am reaching that stage already. No..no..no...
Should I feel sad, happy or equivocal? I shall just feel sleepy for now, Another 2 bloody hours till buggering off time.
Doesn't matter what I did there, bottomline is I AM NOT THERE TO DO YOUR JOB !!!!.
"Please could we have your review with regards to managing this patient in intensive care unit" Sign, Dr G.
Bollocks! I got there and thought well ok yeah she needs to go to the unit, she's tiring herself and kept having this apnoiec attacks. So the medical registrar grinned the grin of yea-she-is-now-your-patient-take-her-away-quick-before-my-tea-gets-cold.
He had heavily stained teeth. Is it tea or smoking?
I looked at the treatment chart and something was not quite right. This is somebody who had been to the ITU so many times so much so that when I mentioned her name to the staff, they remembered her. So you would think that when she started wheezing, barking, semi-popping her eyeballs like a fish flunked of the water by some pussycat, trying to get some decent amount of oxygen in, they would have given the nebuliser back to back and maybe Magnesium Sulphate as well.
Fuh that was a long sentence. The pizza was hard and slightly stale. Must be the four cheeses.
Instead? The patient was on 24% oxygen, (this is asthma for crying out loud, not blimming COPD), the nebulisers had not been given, and she's on aminophylline which is so out of fashion.
Clarified this with the medical registrar and even went on the British Thoracic Society guideline homepage to show him the evidence based practice.
Crap! I sound old and pedantic. Kiasu +++++
We got there in the end and we were going to hold fire with her as she was more settled. See how she goes for the next 4 hours. I mean fair enough she tiring with all that extra work of breathing but we have not given her the maximum treatment medically have we? So really you guys ought to do your job properly. (The last phrase got stuck in my throat so, no, had not been nasty to medical people).
4 hours? I'd be home by then. That's the main idea really.
Had a weirdest feeling ever as I was reading the comment by Dr. G though.
"Discussed with the intensive care registrar (Dr. N Ahmad), who is happy to review the patient".
Now, I am quite happy doing this job minus the cold-sweat-breaking-moments I get from time to time, but being called a registrar sends chill down my spine. I don't believe I am reaching that stage already. No..no..no...
Should I feel sad, happy or equivocal? I shall just feel sleepy for now, Another 2 bloody hours till buggering off time.
Bloody Bluescrubs
I am beginning to like this dingy place. It's very quiet apart from the humming of the CPU. I feel quite safe here. It's not windows XP this, but I don't mind as long as I know I am connected to the amazing world of WWW.
I have worked bloody hard tonight. Came on duty to find my self in a dilemma. There's a screaming pregnant woman who was already 9 cm dilated on the labour ward, pushing a football against a buttonhole, needing an epidural ( now only you tell me), and there's a chap in Accident and Emergency department bleeding from his noggin. So which one? Decisions.
Apparently this guy suffers from epilepsy and managed to make his way to the pub tonight and used his benefit money to get himself in a right state. Had a fit and threw himself through the glassdoor at home, or maybe it's glassdoor first and then a fit. Either way he was bleeding from neck upwards. One laceration was about 6 inches long right across the front of his face. Pretty deep as well.
So the screaming lady? I left her to Moeser to come in and stick an epidural in. She might faint from too much screaming and panting which in a way should be good for her. A mini break. Honestly though local ladies are quite good at not screaming so much but have you been around Indian or Greek ladies in labour? Bloody loud it gets on my nerves sometimes. Is it wrong that sometimes I feel like slapping them across their faces? Shall not entertain such thoughts.
I left the pizza out and not had them yet. Hopefully it's still there. so .. so hungry.
Shall have it at 2 am.
So I got him tubed down and ventilated on the machine. CT scan didn't show much apart from his previous craniotomy. So he's just withdrawing fom alcohol then, when he tried sitting up and swung his hand across missing the staff nurse's head by a millimetre. That's a good going withdrawal.
Bugger!, I've got blood on my bluescrubs. Where did that come from? Had better go and change after writing this.
He got on the unit for overnight ventilation and I had four blimming goes at putting the arterial line. Sometimes human bodies are like that, one minute very accomodating and easy , the next resistant to all efforts and bloody difficult. Anyway practice makes perfect and what better being a pincushion then a sleeping drunken one.
I hate arterial lines, they've got minds of their own.Hate it hate it hate it.
I have worked bloody hard tonight. Came on duty to find my self in a dilemma. There's a screaming pregnant woman who was already 9 cm dilated on the labour ward, pushing a football against a buttonhole, needing an epidural ( now only you tell me), and there's a chap in Accident and Emergency department bleeding from his noggin. So which one? Decisions.
Apparently this guy suffers from epilepsy and managed to make his way to the pub tonight and used his benefit money to get himself in a right state. Had a fit and threw himself through the glassdoor at home, or maybe it's glassdoor first and then a fit. Either way he was bleeding from neck upwards. One laceration was about 6 inches long right across the front of his face. Pretty deep as well.
So the screaming lady? I left her to Moeser to come in and stick an epidural in. She might faint from too much screaming and panting which in a way should be good for her. A mini break. Honestly though local ladies are quite good at not screaming so much but have you been around Indian or Greek ladies in labour? Bloody loud it gets on my nerves sometimes. Is it wrong that sometimes I feel like slapping them across their faces? Shall not entertain such thoughts.
I left the pizza out and not had them yet. Hopefully it's still there. so .. so hungry.
Shall have it at 2 am.
So I got him tubed down and ventilated on the machine. CT scan didn't show much apart from his previous craniotomy. So he's just withdrawing fom alcohol then, when he tried sitting up and swung his hand across missing the staff nurse's head by a millimetre. That's a good going withdrawal.
Bugger!, I've got blood on my bluescrubs. Where did that come from? Had better go and change after writing this.
He got on the unit for overnight ventilation and I had four blimming goes at putting the arterial line. Sometimes human bodies are like that, one minute very accomodating and easy , the next resistant to all efforts and bloody difficult. Anyway practice makes perfect and what better being a pincushion then a sleeping drunken one.
I hate arterial lines, they've got minds of their own.Hate it hate it hate it.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Muddled
Am sat in this little dingy office adjacent to the intensive care unit. Seeking respite. Had not been allowed to sleep even a wink tonight. Mr.Bed 2 has been dropping his blood pressure as if he is the only one I have to look after tonight. Oh behave already sir. You have been nothing but trouble tonight.
As we speak ( I feel like I am talking ), I just managed to up the mean pressure to 80 mmHg. His urine output had created a special slot in my wondering mind. Demanding attention on the hour every hour for the past 8 hours.He'd just came back from a 5 hour sigmoidcolectomy (this is chopping a bit of you bowel out and joining the end to the other end), so most often than not we are a bit behind with the fluids. So pushing fluids we did, all night.
How is it that I am doing night shift, two days in a row on weekdays? Have I upset anybody in particular?
At 3 am (things always happen at 3 am), had to call the boss at home when it transpired that Mr. Bed2 was not playing the game. I did not like it when I am spoken to like that.
"You take 10 mg of metaraminol, you mix in 20 ml saline, so you get 0.5mg per ml "in his sticky Burmese accent.
I knowlah the maths, tell me what you want me to do. doink! Very volatile I was.
"So you want me to start metaraminol? But I thought we don't use it anymore on the unit", I felt the need to clarify, no intention to be rude whatsoever.
"Yes I know. Start phenylephrine." he abruptly added and equally abruptly stopped and ????
What?so? what's with the metaraminol?which one is it now?phenylephrine or metaraminol?
Didn't come out as ugly as that but the message was intentionally clear. I like it when I say subtle things.
I don't like it when people get me confused. It's like when people say I am pulling your legs, when they mean they are joking. Or say things like 'Nothing', without looking at you, when clearly they are upset with you.
That's a lie because nothing means a lot of things here. I also don't like it when people don't look at me when I talk to them. I think they have something to hide when they do that. The last time somebody significant did that to me, I later found out that he has been lying.
I am feeling emotionally ergkh and physically ouch and languistically blergh. Sleep deprived people always become simpler as human sesory and motor humonculus are made to prefer simple things especially when allowed to choose. I would sleep anywhere now.
As we speak ( I feel like I am talking ), I just managed to up the mean pressure to 80 mmHg. His urine output had created a special slot in my wondering mind. Demanding attention on the hour every hour for the past 8 hours.He'd just came back from a 5 hour sigmoidcolectomy (this is chopping a bit of you bowel out and joining the end to the other end), so most often than not we are a bit behind with the fluids. So pushing fluids we did, all night.
How is it that I am doing night shift, two days in a row on weekdays? Have I upset anybody in particular?
At 3 am (things always happen at 3 am), had to call the boss at home when it transpired that Mr. Bed2 was not playing the game. I did not like it when I am spoken to like that.
"You take 10 mg of metaraminol, you mix in 20 ml saline, so you get 0.5mg per ml "in his sticky Burmese accent.
I knowlah the maths, tell me what you want me to do. doink! Very volatile I was.
"So you want me to start metaraminol? But I thought we don't use it anymore on the unit", I felt the need to clarify, no intention to be rude whatsoever.
"Yes I know. Start phenylephrine." he abruptly added and equally abruptly stopped and ????
What?so? what's with the metaraminol?which one is it now?phenylephrine or metaraminol?
Didn't come out as ugly as that but the message was intentionally clear. I like it when I say subtle things.
I don't like it when people get me confused. It's like when people say I am pulling your legs, when they mean they are joking. Or say things like 'Nothing', without looking at you, when clearly they are upset with you.
That's a lie because nothing means a lot of things here. I also don't like it when people don't look at me when I talk to them. I think they have something to hide when they do that. The last time somebody significant did that to me, I later found out that he has been lying.
I am feeling emotionally ergkh and physically ouch and languistically blergh. Sleep deprived people always become simpler as human sesory and motor humonculus are made to prefer simple things especially when allowed to choose. I would sleep anywhere now.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Gas Man From Belfast
F is a friend since A-level time.
One of those friends you 've got because you were bundled into the same boeing747 from Subang International Airport,right after SPM, to then be flown to Heathrow and scattered all over the public schools in UK.
There you were taught more or less how to wear black tights which laddered after a week, with stupid pencil/A-line/pleated grey skirts. Also mastering the art of tightening your anal sphincter after morning fry-ups with loads of baked beans. Not gentle, baked beans. Phhwwwwoooarrrhh!
(Unless you want to anaesthetise the whole of Chemistry class or cause spontaneous combustions, then the skill is vital to acquire).
So you hooked up with your first love and people like F were more like a backdrop.
Recently F and I had been in touch more frequently. Partly because there's a lot to catch up after 10 years and the other is probably because he is also doing exactly the same FRCA exam as I am and we are both pissing ourselves with the whole she'bang. His exam is in 6 days time. I feel for him.
He is a gas man from Belfast and there was so many gas stories to tell. Firstly, we both established that orthopaedic surgeons are spazzers.
"What do you call a bunch of orthopaedic surgeons looking at a chest x-ray?"
"Entah, Go on tell me ", there's no point trying here I thought, because I am never good at it.
"Double blind study", his laughter was contagious.
We laughed and he rambled on about his hospital and the nurses and the portering system.
Second thing we thought needed slagging was no matter how early you 'order' the customer, it always takes about an hour for the patient to get down to theatre. He complained on and then it was my turn to complain on the same topic and then the next and the next , like a ping pong game I thought.
Just as I was going to comment about his funny accent (even H-Besut who could never say ikan properly now has a Scarborough accent)..
Another joke.
"A woman came to a doctor looking ghastly and ill"he paused.
Kahhkahkahkahkahkah, couldn't stop myself.
"Oiii..I haven't even started." He took a deep drag of the cigarette and laughed. I can tell. I know these things.
Doctor: So you are not feeling any better since the last time you saw me?
Woman: No doc, but I am puzzled, I have been doing exactly as what you told me.
Doctor: It's very easy to do and you should feel better.
Woman: I know doc but it's just not working.
Doctor: So I said 4 meals a day and a gentle exercise every other day , did you do that?
Woman: Doc, I thought you said 4 males a day!!
I bursted out laughing. He went hehehehehhe, pleased that he is still the funny guy with glasses and curly hair I once knew.
We talked about people we know and places we have travelled. Memories of those two carefree years came flooding back. Ahhh.. could even still remember the particular smell of that dry autumn breeze kissing my cheeks.
Sat on a Reagent's park bench with some girlfriends (who are now either suffering from backache- due to the accentuated lumbar lordosis as one becomes more pregnant, or suffering from sore nipples-due to many reasons), watching the boys playing footie. (that is when we really really had to stop from the 5 pm round the park run, not that we purposely went there.)
"Eh M is gay kah, why he never kawen, dulu very gatal with S?" I was curious
"Oiii nak mati you go ask him sendiri laaa", he blew out some smoke.
After a few what-happen-to-him/hers, it panned out that we both suffer from syndrome T. We didn't think we were going to be the selected ones but fate has funny ways of doing funny twists. Having agreed to that we found ourselves in a pregnant silent.
"Smoking kills, amaran dari kementerian kesihatan", I gibed half seriously. Phewh, I don't like silencing topics.
"Ohmagawd, mana you tahu? Oii you spy me is it? cepat cakap!!!!" he sounded genuinely surprised that I figured he is now a smoker.
So he told me the reasons and excuses. He took up smoking after a relationship disaster and his excuse for continuing is because she was no longer around. That's what I deduced.
We touched on the subject of relationships and I felt rather awkward. I got up and started walking sideways and kicking the skirting of the wall gently, with the handphone still clamped to my ear. Unexpectedly, visitor from South Africa arrived for lunch and I had to cut the conversation short. Just as well.
He made me promise to keep in touch and three other things. So I did because life is a bitch sometimes.
He is now a smoker and a non-believer in marriages, and I am still wondering what had that 10 years done to me.
One of those friends you 've got because you were bundled into the same boeing747 from Subang International Airport,right after SPM, to then be flown to Heathrow and scattered all over the public schools in UK.
There you were taught more or less how to wear black tights which laddered after a week, with stupid pencil/A-line/pleated grey skirts. Also mastering the art of tightening your anal sphincter after morning fry-ups with loads of baked beans. Not gentle, baked beans. Phhwwwwoooarrrhh!
(Unless you want to anaesthetise the whole of Chemistry class or cause spontaneous combustions, then the skill is vital to acquire).
So you hooked up with your first love and people like F were more like a backdrop.
Recently F and I had been in touch more frequently. Partly because there's a lot to catch up after 10 years and the other is probably because he is also doing exactly the same FRCA exam as I am and we are both pissing ourselves with the whole she'bang. His exam is in 6 days time. I feel for him.
He is a gas man from Belfast and there was so many gas stories to tell. Firstly, we both established that orthopaedic surgeons are spazzers.
"What do you call a bunch of orthopaedic surgeons looking at a chest x-ray?"
"Entah, Go on tell me ", there's no point trying here I thought, because I am never good at it.
"Double blind study", his laughter was contagious.
We laughed and he rambled on about his hospital and the nurses and the portering system.
Second thing we thought needed slagging was no matter how early you 'order' the customer, it always takes about an hour for the patient to get down to theatre. He complained on and then it was my turn to complain on the same topic and then the next and the next , like a ping pong game I thought.
Just as I was going to comment about his funny accent (even H-Besut who could never say ikan properly now has a Scarborough accent)..
Another joke.
"A woman came to a doctor looking ghastly and ill"he paused.
Kahhkahkahkahkahkah, couldn't stop myself.
"Oiii..I haven't even started." He took a deep drag of the cigarette and laughed. I can tell. I know these things.
Doctor: So you are not feeling any better since the last time you saw me?
Woman: No doc, but I am puzzled, I have been doing exactly as what you told me.
Doctor: It's very easy to do and you should feel better.
Woman: I know doc but it's just not working.
Doctor: So I said 4 meals a day and a gentle exercise every other day , did you do that?
Woman: Doc, I thought you said 4 males a day!!
I bursted out laughing. He went hehehehehhe, pleased that he is still the funny guy with glasses and curly hair I once knew.
We talked about people we know and places we have travelled. Memories of those two carefree years came flooding back. Ahhh.. could even still remember the particular smell of that dry autumn breeze kissing my cheeks.
Sat on a Reagent's park bench with some girlfriends (who are now either suffering from backache- due to the accentuated lumbar lordosis as one becomes more pregnant, or suffering from sore nipples-due to many reasons), watching the boys playing footie. (that is when we really really had to stop from the 5 pm round the park run, not that we purposely went there.)
"Eh M is gay kah, why he never kawen, dulu very gatal with S?" I was curious
"Oiii nak mati you go ask him sendiri laaa", he blew out some smoke.
After a few what-happen-to-him/hers, it panned out that we both suffer from syndrome T. We didn't think we were going to be the selected ones but fate has funny ways of doing funny twists. Having agreed to that we found ourselves in a pregnant silent.
"Smoking kills, amaran dari kementerian kesihatan", I gibed half seriously. Phewh, I don't like silencing topics.
"Ohmagawd, mana you tahu? Oii you spy me is it? cepat cakap!!!!" he sounded genuinely surprised that I figured he is now a smoker.
So he told me the reasons and excuses. He took up smoking after a relationship disaster and his excuse for continuing is because she was no longer around. That's what I deduced.
We touched on the subject of relationships and I felt rather awkward. I got up and started walking sideways and kicking the skirting of the wall gently, with the handphone still clamped to my ear. Unexpectedly, visitor from South Africa arrived for lunch and I had to cut the conversation short. Just as well.
He made me promise to keep in touch and three other things. So I did because life is a bitch sometimes.
He is now a smoker and a non-believer in marriages, and I am still wondering what had that 10 years done to me.
Epidural And Generous Women.
What is it about big women and non-working epidurals?
So I got called to put an epidural in this lady who was ridiculously large. Honestly you couldn't tell if she was pregnant. She had so much weight on that attempt at just sitting her up took about half an hour.
The midwife caught me staring at the the tripple folds under the scapula which wobbled with the adipose inertia as she shifted herself left (wobbles) and right (more wobbles). I avoided her staring at me staring at the wobbles. Continued setting up my epidural set.
I felt a heavily pregnant cloud encroaching, and reset my what started off as a happyish day.Now.. now please god let there be bone there, so I can make way. It didn't look good at all from where I was standing. The axiom is fat ladies and epidurals do not exist in one equation.
I placed my hand on the virgin back and my heart sank.
*Gulp* No bone..all fat. AAaaaaaaaaaaaa..*breath*
I dug and dug and noticed that the mum, the boyfriend, the mum's boyfriend and dad were looking at my wondering eyes and my proding fingers. No matter how many times I do these things the hoi polloi never failed to give me butterflies. Why lah people like to stare.
So I thought we will be here for longer than usual as this lady is not necessarily the ..stuff it no time to be nice. She was fat and that was the main problem. I am not talking about being overweight here. This lady was at least 120 kg. This was a grave, morbid obesity. Now please close your mouth.
30 minutes into proding with the Touhy needle, the contractions were getting stronger and she was by then a horrendous moving target. I huffed and puffed behind the mask. Was it just me or the room was insensibly warm?
40 minutes later I was close to climbing up the wall when I hit the space.The epidural was in. Hurrrahhh!! I was very much relieved. It kicked in 10 minutes later and the lady fell asleep blissfully, completely unaware of the building contractions. So chaffed, but dear dear me what a challenge.
So I thought that was it? I left the maternity ward to return to the intensive care unit only to be bleeped again 3 hours later regarding the same patient.
"It doesn't seem to work anymore, can you come and have a look please?"
So how do I volley that request?
Nooooooooooooooooo..
Returned to find the woman drenched in sweat, hogging the entonox noozle like there's no tomorrow. Felt sorry, very sorry actually when I saw the boyfriend sat across the room watching football on TV.No mood to be rude, but what on bloody earth did he bloody think he was bloody doing???
Did I say I don't mind this place? I would say it's the nicest labour suite I've ever been in. In every room you'd find a coffee making facility, a TV and of course it's en-suite. May I remind you that this is NHS and not a private hospital. Like little hotel room you know. I know, ungrateful bunch!
So I topped her up :
Bupivacaine 0.25% 20 ml: screaming and swearing
Bupivacaine 0.50% 10 ml :screaming and swearing and threatening to strangle the lovely boyfriend.
Feintly it sounded something like **^&%$$£^$plonker*(^^%%&^767f*ck*&*&^8you*&(^*twat&*^*^5don't youbloodyhoneyme&^*%&$$£goaway**^5don'ttouchme&**^*%
And a fair bit more.
Stop! She complained that the left leg was going numb. Ahah!
So 2 things really in favour of the epidural being perfectly in place :
1. It worked for 3 hours, if it wasn't in, wouldn't have worked to begin with.
2. The left leg going numb (which is not permanent) .
So I scratched my head, my chin and the back of my neck. After a brief conversation with Bramwell I decided it needed resiting. Oh well it's 20:20 and look who was there on time. Richard!!!! So he did the resiting in the end, bless his heart.
I came home with a mental note, you can only have one or the other really. Either pregnant or fat. Choose one.Unless you want to upset your anaesthetist.
So I got called to put an epidural in this lady who was ridiculously large. Honestly you couldn't tell if she was pregnant. She had so much weight on that attempt at just sitting her up took about half an hour.
The midwife caught me staring at the the tripple folds under the scapula which wobbled with the adipose inertia as she shifted herself left (wobbles) and right (more wobbles). I avoided her staring at me staring at the wobbles. Continued setting up my epidural set.
I felt a heavily pregnant cloud encroaching, and reset my what started off as a happyish day.Now.. now please god let there be bone there, so I can make way. It didn't look good at all from where I was standing. The axiom is fat ladies and epidurals do not exist in one equation.
I placed my hand on the virgin back and my heart sank.
*Gulp* No bone..all fat. AAaaaaaaaaaaaa..*breath*
I dug and dug and noticed that the mum, the boyfriend, the mum's boyfriend and dad were looking at my wondering eyes and my proding fingers. No matter how many times I do these things the hoi polloi never failed to give me butterflies. Why lah people like to stare.
So I thought we will be here for longer than usual as this lady is not necessarily the ..stuff it no time to be nice. She was fat and that was the main problem. I am not talking about being overweight here. This lady was at least 120 kg. This was a grave, morbid obesity. Now please close your mouth.
30 minutes into proding with the Touhy needle, the contractions were getting stronger and she was by then a horrendous moving target. I huffed and puffed behind the mask. Was it just me or the room was insensibly warm?
40 minutes later I was close to climbing up the wall when I hit the space.The epidural was in. Hurrrahhh!! I was very much relieved. It kicked in 10 minutes later and the lady fell asleep blissfully, completely unaware of the building contractions. So chaffed, but dear dear me what a challenge.
So I thought that was it? I left the maternity ward to return to the intensive care unit only to be bleeped again 3 hours later regarding the same patient.
"It doesn't seem to work anymore, can you come and have a look please?"
So how do I volley that request?
Nooooooooooooooooo..
Returned to find the woman drenched in sweat, hogging the entonox noozle like there's no tomorrow. Felt sorry, very sorry actually when I saw the boyfriend sat across the room watching football on TV.No mood to be rude, but what on bloody earth did he bloody think he was bloody doing???
Did I say I don't mind this place? I would say it's the nicest labour suite I've ever been in. In every room you'd find a coffee making facility, a TV and of course it's en-suite. May I remind you that this is NHS and not a private hospital. Like little hotel room you know. I know, ungrateful bunch!
So I topped her up :
Bupivacaine 0.25% 20 ml: screaming and swearing
Bupivacaine 0.50% 10 ml :screaming and swearing and threatening to strangle the lovely boyfriend.
Feintly it sounded something like **^&%$$£^$plonker*(^^%%&^767f*ck*&*&^8you*&(^*twat&*^*^5don't youbloodyhoneyme&^*%&$$£goaway**^5don'ttouchme&**^*%
And a fair bit more.
Stop! She complained that the left leg was going numb. Ahah!
So 2 things really in favour of the epidural being perfectly in place :
1. It worked for 3 hours, if it wasn't in, wouldn't have worked to begin with.
2. The left leg going numb (which is not permanent) .
So I scratched my head, my chin and the back of my neck. After a brief conversation with Bramwell I decided it needed resiting. Oh well it's 20:20 and look who was there on time. Richard!!!! So he did the resiting in the end, bless his heart.
I came home with a mental note, you can only have one or the other really. Either pregnant or fat. Choose one.Unless you want to upset your anaesthetist.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Ecstatic
It is still not very clear to me why I feel like this.
Imagine yourself climbing a flight of stairs and it's mighty long, steep and dicky.
Climbing it will be labourious. You know it even before you start. So you hang on. You perservere. You can see where you want to get to. You push yourself. You break into sweats.
Your muscles work synergistically, in a concert you compose. They harmonise because the higher centres instructed them to. They follow obediently. They let the next stride up gather momentum, and the next with more and more and more.
You breath harder, you pant. Your throat is dry. You know you will get there. You work it more and more and more. Just a bit more. You can do it. You are charging ahead, ignoring the pain. *Groan* No I can't, yes you can, no I can't ..yes..no..yess. Yes..yes...yessssssssssss!!!!
*panting*
Must got to the gym.
Date to watch out for 18th February.
Imagine yourself climbing a flight of stairs and it's mighty long, steep and dicky.
Climbing it will be labourious. You know it even before you start. So you hang on. You perservere. You can see where you want to get to. You push yourself. You break into sweats.
Your muscles work synergistically, in a concert you compose. They harmonise because the higher centres instructed them to. They follow obediently. They let the next stride up gather momentum, and the next with more and more and more.
You breath harder, you pant. Your throat is dry. You know you will get there. You work it more and more and more. Just a bit more. You can do it. You are charging ahead, ignoring the pain. *Groan* No I can't, yes you can, no I can't ..yes..no..yess. Yes..yes...yessssssssssss!!!!
*panting*
Must got to the gym.
Date to watch out for 18th February.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Conspiracy and Conundrum
This is insane. I am beginning to believe that there is a big conspiracy to make me turn up unbelievably late for my oncalls or for anything remotely important to me. Not forgetting that day when I was suppose to be in Leeds for 08:30 and got there at 14:00?
You can only do that by being me and owning my geriatric alarm clock. It has never failed me before and I could swear that I did not hear a thing till Maggie woke me up with mighty loud thumpings on my door.
"Naj...Naaaaaaaaaaaj!!!!
" Your Dr. Bghomwell iz on zerr fongn..he wans yew..you on call todei??"
I rubbed my eyes vigorously and stared at her by the door.
In my hippocampus: Who Bghomwell? Why he wants me? Why he called you? What day is it? What time is it? Looking at the clock. What are you doing with my mug again. And why do you always look good in the morning.. and you smell nice.
Then my hopeless bioCPU came to a halt. Bugger! I'm on call today. Just as I stuttered to explain to Maggie, the faithful samsung E800 broke into a chirpy polyphonic ringtone..rather soothing to self. I hope I didn't swear and made him cry. Hung up instantaneously.
I rushed to the loo and Maggie howled again.
"Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaj, Bghomwell still on ze fongn fo yewwwwww"
Arrgghhhhhhhhh bollocks. He's been on the phone all that time? I'm so going to get so much bollocking.I had to tighten my perineal sphincters and put off the idea on a tinkle for a while, pull up my knickers and dashed into her room. Hmmmm..very tidy. Marked contrast to mine. So she likes picture frames..
"Err Hello, It's Naj"
"Ahhhhhh, Dr. Ahmad( note the sarcasm there, very stingy..one jelly fish). So you're alive then? (two jelly fish)I've been worried sick. Unlike you to not tell us if you're not well".
"Oh no, I'm well Dr. Bramwell ( notice that it rhymes there and when said outloud it was rather distracting to not notice it) It's just err..errmmm my alarm err...uhh so sorry .. be there in 10 Dr. Bramwell."
"Ahh so you are joining us then. Jolly good indeed". (three jelly fish)
"Yes Dr. Bramwell, sorry Dr. Bramwell", I started taking shallow breaths.
Click* Ohmegawwdd.
So there I was, after 3 jelly fish from Bramwell, doing bare minimum to get maximum result so as not to turn up like a complete doodah on the unit. Of course I didn't shower and of course I squirt some fresh smelling stuff. May I thank myself and various other factors that contributed to me taking shower last night. It has helped in speeding up the process of getting ready.
**********
I usually use the backdoor to the hospital. This is via the Diamond suite. Sounds terribly posh isn't it?, well of course it is. It's the psychiatric unit.
At the double door two women were smoking. One was eyeing me like a hawk. I approached them and indicated that I wanted to pass through, and I thought silly women blocking the doorway. It didn't make sense because A ) it's bloody cold outside and B) they are not your normal size women. You are looking at the top of the range sizes.
Suddenly the one in a pink jump suit which I will call CrazywomanA which most suitedly called 'jackfruit-shroud', paced herself in the doorway and started looking at me up and down.
"I like you, you look beautiful",
"I saw you on telly"
I was positive she was trying to touch my hair and wasn't going to let me through.
CrazywomanA jutted he lower lips to the side and blew the smoke. Gosh I wish I was taller.
I froze and smiled automatically, hands in my coat. One step backed and I glanced at the receptionist.
"So are you", smile plentifully, gosh what have I said, please let me pass I am late, I am going to have my head chopped. perempuangilaperempuangilaperempuangilaprempuangila.
CrazywomanA shifted herself away, not a single smile, after a few glances exchanged with her 'partner'?CrazywomanB. I say that as they look as rough as each other. What are those things they're wearing around their heads??
CrazywomanB had the same thing but in a different colour. On top of that, crazywomanB had a long black skirt, black blouse, black boots and black lipstick. A lost gypsy of some sort. Is she not cold with only that on? I hastened my pace along the corridor. Ayyaamaa..so so weird.
**********
I arrived at 09:45, almost an hour 15 minutes late. The smirking and giggles I got from the nursing staff was almost comforting. An indication that he hasn't been blowing his hat off about this whole Naj-had-too-much-to-drink-and-pass-out which rendered her late for work. So not like that.
Everybody thought I had a 'bad' night, that's what happened on saturday mornings, junior doctors turn up late cos they've been out on some wild and crazy parties. Wish that was the case. Was absolutely not though. Just knackered from the Leeds 2 hour in and 2 hour out driving. Sad but true.
For some bizarre reasons I didn't let that impression get washed out by the truth. I am beginning to believe that, being all drunk on a Friday night and zombied an hour and fifteen minutes late to work the next day is an acceptable thing. The most you get is probably some shaking heads and a wagging finger, and a smack in the hand.
So, I just grinned sheepishly , cheeks all red from the painstakingly cold winter wind and hair all frizzled up akin to that being fed a 100mA curent across the temporals, how else would you get that kind of frizz, most hideous I thought to myself everytime I look in the mirror.
Got there and he's on an "executive ward" round with Mr. Souka. Only consultants go on "executive ward" rounds. I call that because , the round will always end up on topics about holidays, yachts, my big house, your holiday house in spain , my grapevine in French, the finer things in life, the epicureanisms.You wonder if they are making it all up. I think so. Too much blinking while talking. A sure sign that people are lying.
Had five beds occupied by 5 sick people on the Intensive care Unit. 2 were doing well. One is battling along in the corner. It' s always those ones whose livers are a bit pickled from years of boozing that don't do so well.
**********
Alcohol is wonderful, it's always bringing you closer to another world. You drink moderately you loose that bit of 'Maybe I shouldn't' so you ended up saying or doing something you later discover you wouldn't have normally. Might be beneficial might well be disastrous. But you would be in that confident new world where life has no boundries and full of colours.
If you drink a lot and alot then you might just enjoy the snooze in the corner with a bit of a pungent smell of vomitus. Now that is the snooze world. We all know being unconscious is wonderful. Wonderful world of passing-out. So if you drink and you say you had a good time, that's bollocks isn't it. How can you say you've enjoyed it when you don't remember a thing?
Pleasureable things are repeated because, they are remembered as being pleasurable. Is drinking pleasurable then? Maybe but what's the point if you can't bloody remember the pleasure? That's a conundrum.
**********
Sam walked in almost breaking into a mini skippings. So somebody is happy I thought.
"Hi trouble!!!"he greeted.
I grinned and beamed a smile. Must smile a lot.
"So what happened this morning?" So now he knows.
"We almost sent securities to go and check up on you. Dr. Bramwell was soooo worried. We thought maybe you were lying on the floor, unconscious, or you're not well and couldn't get up or..you've been kidnapped" he seemed to smile a lot.
I recited my stupid alarm story and he made that bottoms up wiggle-wiggle gesture couple of times with his eyebrows doing a quick up and down jingle and broke into a laugh.
"Aaaaaaaaahh I wish I'm as young as you are",
bet you he didn't mean it because I think he's very happy being just Sam. Not a younger Sam.
This is strange. He looked fresh as well and what parfum has he got on. Very nice.
So Dr Bramwell was genuinely worried. So sweet indeed. I feel even more sorry. I am so bad.
Stomach growled patheticly loud. Bet it was lunch time and it was as well. Bramwell whizzed past and almost like a knee jerk I smiled and asked,
"Do you think I could go and get a bite now?"
I really don't mind if he' s said no. I felt like I deserved some kind of a punishment. Not sure whether rationing my food is better than a spanking. Had he asked to choose I would have said a spank. Would I then have to say please? Please can I have a spank instead?
He stopped into a stance in a mid stride and turned. Rather like those little malleable green soldiers your 10 year old brother spent whole morning lining up on the sofa armrest and you came and gave yourself a pleasure of knocking them all off. Noice. And victory if he cries.
He smiled!!Yes he smiled..so he's forgotten.
"Hmmmmm...so you need lunch? Don't enjoy it though",still smiling, very rude but very sweet.
Very close, very close I thought.
Shall invest in a new alarm clock. One that shrieks and another that talks.
You can only do that by being me and owning my geriatric alarm clock. It has never failed me before and I could swear that I did not hear a thing till Maggie woke me up with mighty loud thumpings on my door.
"Naj...Naaaaaaaaaaaj!!!!
" Your Dr. Bghomwell iz on zerr fongn..he wans yew..you on call todei??"
I rubbed my eyes vigorously and stared at her by the door.
In my hippocampus: Who Bghomwell? Why he wants me? Why he called you? What day is it? What time is it? Looking at the clock. What are you doing with my mug again. And why do you always look good in the morning.. and you smell nice.
Then my hopeless bioCPU came to a halt. Bugger! I'm on call today. Just as I stuttered to explain to Maggie, the faithful samsung E800 broke into a chirpy polyphonic ringtone..rather soothing to self. I hope I didn't swear and made him cry. Hung up instantaneously.
I rushed to the loo and Maggie howled again.
"Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaj, Bghomwell still on ze fongn fo yewwwwww"
Arrgghhhhhhhhh bollocks. He's been on the phone all that time? I'm so going to get so much bollocking.I had to tighten my perineal sphincters and put off the idea on a tinkle for a while, pull up my knickers and dashed into her room. Hmmmm..very tidy. Marked contrast to mine. So she likes picture frames..
"Err Hello, It's Naj"
"Ahhhhhh, Dr. Ahmad( note the sarcasm there, very stingy..one jelly fish). So you're alive then? (two jelly fish)I've been worried sick. Unlike you to not tell us if you're not well".
"Oh no, I'm well Dr. Bramwell ( notice that it rhymes there and when said outloud it was rather distracting to not notice it) It's just err..errmmm my alarm err...uhh so sorry .. be there in 10 Dr. Bramwell."
"Ahh so you are joining us then. Jolly good indeed". (three jelly fish)
"Yes Dr. Bramwell, sorry Dr. Bramwell", I started taking shallow breaths.
Click* Ohmegawwdd.
So there I was, after 3 jelly fish from Bramwell, doing bare minimum to get maximum result so as not to turn up like a complete doodah on the unit. Of course I didn't shower and of course I squirt some fresh smelling stuff. May I thank myself and various other factors that contributed to me taking shower last night. It has helped in speeding up the process of getting ready.
**********
I usually use the backdoor to the hospital. This is via the Diamond suite. Sounds terribly posh isn't it?, well of course it is. It's the psychiatric unit.
At the double door two women were smoking. One was eyeing me like a hawk. I approached them and indicated that I wanted to pass through, and I thought silly women blocking the doorway. It didn't make sense because A ) it's bloody cold outside and B) they are not your normal size women. You are looking at the top of the range sizes.
Suddenly the one in a pink jump suit which I will call CrazywomanA which most suitedly called 'jackfruit-shroud', paced herself in the doorway and started looking at me up and down.
"I like you, you look beautiful",
"I saw you on telly"
I was positive she was trying to touch my hair and wasn't going to let me through.
CrazywomanA jutted he lower lips to the side and blew the smoke. Gosh I wish I was taller.
I froze and smiled automatically, hands in my coat. One step backed and I glanced at the receptionist.
"So are you", smile plentifully, gosh what have I said, please let me pass I am late, I am going to have my head chopped. perempuangilaperempuangilaperempuangilaprempuangila.
CrazywomanA shifted herself away, not a single smile, after a few glances exchanged with her 'partner'?CrazywomanB. I say that as they look as rough as each other. What are those things they're wearing around their heads??
CrazywomanB had the same thing but in a different colour. On top of that, crazywomanB had a long black skirt, black blouse, black boots and black lipstick. A lost gypsy of some sort. Is she not cold with only that on? I hastened my pace along the corridor. Ayyaamaa..so so weird.
**********
I arrived at 09:45, almost an hour 15 minutes late. The smirking and giggles I got from the nursing staff was almost comforting. An indication that he hasn't been blowing his hat off about this whole Naj-had-too-much-to-drink-and-pass-out which rendered her late for work. So not like that.
Everybody thought I had a 'bad' night, that's what happened on saturday mornings, junior doctors turn up late cos they've been out on some wild and crazy parties. Wish that was the case. Was absolutely not though. Just knackered from the Leeds 2 hour in and 2 hour out driving. Sad but true.
For some bizarre reasons I didn't let that impression get washed out by the truth. I am beginning to believe that, being all drunk on a Friday night and zombied an hour and fifteen minutes late to work the next day is an acceptable thing. The most you get is probably some shaking heads and a wagging finger, and a smack in the hand.
So, I just grinned sheepishly , cheeks all red from the painstakingly cold winter wind and hair all frizzled up akin to that being fed a 100mA curent across the temporals, how else would you get that kind of frizz, most hideous I thought to myself everytime I look in the mirror.
Got there and he's on an "executive ward" round with Mr. Souka. Only consultants go on "executive ward" rounds. I call that because , the round will always end up on topics about holidays, yachts, my big house, your holiday house in spain , my grapevine in French, the finer things in life, the epicureanisms.You wonder if they are making it all up. I think so. Too much blinking while talking. A sure sign that people are lying.
Had five beds occupied by 5 sick people on the Intensive care Unit. 2 were doing well. One is battling along in the corner. It' s always those ones whose livers are a bit pickled from years of boozing that don't do so well.
**********
Alcohol is wonderful, it's always bringing you closer to another world. You drink moderately you loose that bit of 'Maybe I shouldn't' so you ended up saying or doing something you later discover you wouldn't have normally. Might be beneficial might well be disastrous. But you would be in that confident new world where life has no boundries and full of colours.
If you drink a lot and alot then you might just enjoy the snooze in the corner with a bit of a pungent smell of vomitus. Now that is the snooze world. We all know being unconscious is wonderful. Wonderful world of passing-out. So if you drink and you say you had a good time, that's bollocks isn't it. How can you say you've enjoyed it when you don't remember a thing?
Pleasureable things are repeated because, they are remembered as being pleasurable. Is drinking pleasurable then? Maybe but what's the point if you can't bloody remember the pleasure? That's a conundrum.
**********
Sam walked in almost breaking into a mini skippings. So somebody is happy I thought.
"Hi trouble!!!"he greeted.
I grinned and beamed a smile. Must smile a lot.
"So what happened this morning?" So now he knows.
"We almost sent securities to go and check up on you. Dr. Bramwell was soooo worried. We thought maybe you were lying on the floor, unconscious, or you're not well and couldn't get up or..you've been kidnapped" he seemed to smile a lot.
I recited my stupid alarm story and he made that bottoms up wiggle-wiggle gesture couple of times with his eyebrows doing a quick up and down jingle and broke into a laugh.
"Aaaaaaaaahh I wish I'm as young as you are",
bet you he didn't mean it because I think he's very happy being just Sam. Not a younger Sam.
This is strange. He looked fresh as well and what parfum has he got on. Very nice.
So Dr Bramwell was genuinely worried. So sweet indeed. I feel even more sorry. I am so bad.
Stomach growled patheticly loud. Bet it was lunch time and it was as well. Bramwell whizzed past and almost like a knee jerk I smiled and asked,
"Do you think I could go and get a bite now?"
I really don't mind if he' s said no. I felt like I deserved some kind of a punishment. Not sure whether rationing my food is better than a spanking. Had he asked to choose I would have said a spank. Would I then have to say please? Please can I have a spank instead?
He stopped into a stance in a mid stride and turned. Rather like those little malleable green soldiers your 10 year old brother spent whole morning lining up on the sofa armrest and you came and gave yourself a pleasure of knocking them all off. Noice. And victory if he cries.
He smiled!!Yes he smiled..so he's forgotten.
"Hmmmmm...so you need lunch? Don't enjoy it though",still smiling, very rude but very sweet.
Very close, very close I thought.
Shall invest in a new alarm clock. One that shrieks and another that talks.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
So much for a short cut.
One would think that if one had taken a short cut to bypass a tail back from a choc-a-bloc M180 that one would arrive at Grimsby where one lives, without much of a sojourn and faffing about with Britain A to Z.
Dear dear me it wasn't a good day for me. I'm not even going to start telling you how dark A57 and A46 was, and how amidst all that darkness I came to a little bridge which forced me to get out of the car to get 45p out of my jeans front pocket.
Have youu ever tried fishing coins out while sitting in the driving seat? I ended up digging into the groinal fold and the coins got further and further away and you turned to look at what looked like Mr Smith in the booth only to find him rather pleased to see the mini acrobat. Heeeshhh..
This is my 3rd day of commuting between grim Grimsby (really is Grim when you have to leave at 6:30 am, when it's still really dark) and Leeds general infirmary. Got out of Karberry lecture hall and it's all pitched black again at 5 pm. I feel a whiff of depression coming. Must arrange a bit of annual leave for a bit of sun.
The second lecture was statistics and by 10:30 I felt like slitting my throat and cause a domino effect of slitting throat massacre and watch crimson fluid flow from the top of the Kaberry down to Prof Pollard's feet.
Did I mention he was late? He was very. His way of apologizing was to every now and then throwing remarks like 'well it's all about probability isn't it, like the probability of the train from Manchester being cancelled and my probability of arriving late, and thus probability of you going home late and being stuck in the traffic and finding out at M180 that there was a trailler toppled blocking all traffics...' well he didn't say the latter part but I could almost imagine him saying that..just.
He also said this but I have no idea what it means 'there are 3 kinds of lies: lies, damned lies and statistics'-Disraeli. Now I am never good with proverbs or euphemisms let alone clever quotations but does that make sense at all?
Dear dear me it wasn't a good day for me. I'm not even going to start telling you how dark A57 and A46 was, and how amidst all that darkness I came to a little bridge which forced me to get out of the car to get 45p out of my jeans front pocket.
Have youu ever tried fishing coins out while sitting in the driving seat? I ended up digging into the groinal fold and the coins got further and further away and you turned to look at what looked like Mr Smith in the booth only to find him rather pleased to see the mini acrobat. Heeeshhh..
This is my 3rd day of commuting between grim Grimsby (really is Grim when you have to leave at 6:30 am, when it's still really dark) and Leeds general infirmary. Got out of Karberry lecture hall and it's all pitched black again at 5 pm. I feel a whiff of depression coming. Must arrange a bit of annual leave for a bit of sun.
The second lecture was statistics and by 10:30 I felt like slitting my throat and cause a domino effect of slitting throat massacre and watch crimson fluid flow from the top of the Kaberry down to Prof Pollard's feet.
Did I mention he was late? He was very. His way of apologizing was to every now and then throwing remarks like 'well it's all about probability isn't it, like the probability of the train from Manchester being cancelled and my probability of arriving late, and thus probability of you going home late and being stuck in the traffic and finding out at M180 that there was a trailler toppled blocking all traffics...' well he didn't say the latter part but I could almost imagine him saying that..just.
He also said this but I have no idea what it means 'there are 3 kinds of lies: lies, damned lies and statistics'-Disraeli. Now I am never good with proverbs or euphemisms let alone clever quotations but does that make sense at all?
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Oh bugger.
A girl was going to have her tonsill out today. I told her exactly what was going to happen during my pre-anaesthetic visit.
I didn't talk too fast (I don't think), didn't slur, didn't start talking about scary movies and definitely didn't use any of those casually-dropped-I'm-sure-you-know-what-it-means TLAs. Hah! What's TLA you ask me.
It's Three Letter Abbreviation. You would have seen these in the ER series. It goes ...WeeeeeeeeeeOOoooooo WeeeeeeeOOOOO
(the siren from the ambulance)
Paramedic jumping out of the ambulance pulling out a stretcher with a woman, head strapped, neck strangled with a rigid collar and looking ghastly. Along the corridor it'll be the standard :
"30 year old (single) woman (possibly working for NHS) found at the bottom of the pavement of 13 storey apartment. GCS 3 throughout." said the paramedic.
Hearing that, the receiving doctor goes "Guys, we need ETT, ECG, CBC, yadayadayada. So, that's what I mean by TLA.
So back to the girl who was probably about 24 years of age, going to have her tonsill out. Looking rather like that startled Japanese woman ghost, murdered by her husband for stalking another man, and came back to haunt the house with pale purplish face and long frizzy hair, she didn't look like somebody who was going to go to sleep very easily.
So I had to slow down and do the talk with her, which is what you would obviously do unless it's a 3 year old girl. As soon as I saw some positive signs , took out a 20 G needle ready to stab her. ..I mean insert into her vein.
One look at the needle and she jumped. She asked me if it's going to hurt. I was caught off guard. I looked up at the clock behind her : '5:15'. Really wanted to go home by then, considering it's the last day before my annual leave starting the next day.
I was hesitating as to what to say to her. Yes its bloody painful , I had one myself and I would really reconsider having this operation, or no.. no.. just a sharp scratch, won't hurt a single bit?
Out of nowhere I heard myself saying 'We haven't invented a painless needle just as yet' and I grinned. Did I tell you she was a blonde? Yes she was very. She took a while to come out of that puzzled face. And as soon as she did that she started crying. O ma gawd..now what have I done.
We abandoned the needles and gas the woman down. So much for finishing early and buggering off to London. Oh yes why am I going to London? Because it's Raya in 4 days!!!! Selamat Hari Raya everyone!!!!Maaf zahir batin.
I didn't talk too fast (I don't think), didn't slur, didn't start talking about scary movies and definitely didn't use any of those casually-dropped-I'm-sure-you-know-what-it-means TLAs. Hah! What's TLA you ask me.
It's Three Letter Abbreviation. You would have seen these in the ER series. It goes ...WeeeeeeeeeeOOoooooo WeeeeeeeOOOOO
(the siren from the ambulance)
Paramedic jumping out of the ambulance pulling out a stretcher with a woman, head strapped, neck strangled with a rigid collar and looking ghastly. Along the corridor it'll be the standard :
"30 year old (single) woman (possibly working for NHS) found at the bottom of the pavement of 13 storey apartment. GCS 3 throughout." said the paramedic.
Hearing that, the receiving doctor goes "Guys, we need ETT, ECG, CBC, yadayadayada. So, that's what I mean by TLA.
So back to the girl who was probably about 24 years of age, going to have her tonsill out. Looking rather like that startled Japanese woman ghost, murdered by her husband for stalking another man, and came back to haunt the house with pale purplish face and long frizzy hair, she didn't look like somebody who was going to go to sleep very easily.
So I had to slow down and do the talk with her, which is what you would obviously do unless it's a 3 year old girl. As soon as I saw some positive signs , took out a 20 G needle ready to stab her. ..I mean insert into her vein.
One look at the needle and she jumped. She asked me if it's going to hurt. I was caught off guard. I looked up at the clock behind her : '5:15'. Really wanted to go home by then, considering it's the last day before my annual leave starting the next day.
I was hesitating as to what to say to her. Yes its bloody painful , I had one myself and I would really reconsider having this operation, or no.. no.. just a sharp scratch, won't hurt a single bit?
Out of nowhere I heard myself saying 'We haven't invented a painless needle just as yet' and I grinned. Did I tell you she was a blonde? Yes she was very. She took a while to come out of that puzzled face. And as soon as she did that she started crying. O ma gawd..now what have I done.
We abandoned the needles and gas the woman down. So much for finishing early and buggering off to London. Oh yes why am I going to London? Because it's Raya in 4 days!!!! Selamat Hari Raya everyone!!!!Maaf zahir batin.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
What now!
Blimming 'eck!!!!
(**(*(&^&*^%^%$%^£%$"£%"$%"%$"*^(&*)(*
Wot happen to me comment box?
Halo- blimming- scan-dalous!!!
*Biting lower lip*
If it's not yet obvious, my Haloscan comment boxes gone walkabouts.
Now now I'm sure this has happened to people before. Shall act macho and go check out Haloscan web page.
In the meantime, help anyone?
*blink*blink*
(**(*(&^&*^%^%$%^£%$"£%"$%"%$"*^(&*)(*
Wot happen to me comment box?
Halo- blimming- scan-dalous!!!
*Biting lower lip*
If it's not yet obvious, my Haloscan comment boxes gone walkabouts.
Now now I'm sure this has happened to people before. Shall act macho and go check out Haloscan web page.
In the meantime, help anyone?
*blink*blink*
Vexation on friendship
A dear friend recently passed her exam after numerous attempts. Hurrah!Hurrrah!
This is by no means an attempt to humiliate anyone, just a fruitful scribble, as I was jogging my thoughts away about friends and acquaintances at 13:37 on a gloomy Sunday afternoon, listening to Sahri- Memori Bahgia.
Trust me the exam itself is bloody difficult, it should come with health hazard warnings posted left right and center. She looked pretty much under the weather everytime I saw her during the period building up to the exam. Poor thing was having enough.
After her third attempt, and failing it yet again, I found her almost everynight in my room, not really looking for anything in particular, but I knew she had so many questions she desperately wanting answers to . Most of them were whys.
She painted a bleak outlook for herself, ruminating that this is it for her, that she's going to quit medicine altogether and succumb to the pressure of her parents fixing her up with a hairy 30- something- year old Pakistani accountant from London. Who'd probably have to ask permission from his dear mother even to piss, let alone choosing which yogurt for the curry. We normally get quite 'critical' about Pakistani men after a handful or maruku. I called it bitching but she'd always disagree.
The conversations always careened towards relationships and exams. To both of us these were the two denominators for happiness and success. We sat down and examined what could have gone wrong. We established that we are both crap at sorting out the relationship part of the equation so we did a post mortem on her exam technique. Anyone who got this far in his/her career would have no problems in getting through a medical book, I told her, and we both agreed on that.
I have kept my tone suggestive but never derogatory. I wanted her to have a look at how she had answered the questions not what or how much she knows, as I know the much we know might vary from one person to the other but, the state of mind at which you enter the exam hall and the method at which you revise and question yourself in order to prepare for the big day is probably of more importance.
We go to exam to regurgitate what we know, so why in preparing for it we do boring things like reading? Shouldn't we be doing more fun things like short quizzes? Given you answer correctly, the motivation to learn more will get fuelled and you will inevitably read more. I know it's still reading, but let reading be a tool to revisions, not a sole objective to actually open a book thinking you will pass an exam. Yes geeky indeed. I was most chaffed at my newfound ability to consult on a serious matter like exams.
After sorting out Plan A for her, I told her how grateful I was for having her around in the apartment, the cooking when I wasn't feeling well, little things like picking up the posts from the main hall, still putting away things for me in the kitchen after nagging me about the pots and plates overflowing the strainer and me forgetting about it all over again. ( nagging never does me any good). Most importantly her moving up from London to come up to Yorkshire to work in the same hospital as me.
I was also reminding her on how some of the things I always thought were too complicated and tiresome to do during the ward rounds were actually the things that speeded it up. Methodically and meticulously was how she did it. I am yet to see somebody who can do as good a job as that. She is one true gem and I made a point to let her know.
2 weeks ago she was on cloud 9 when told that she had finally passed. What striked me was that she thought the Plan A may have worked to her advantage and partly contributed to her passing but my words on her very attributes were to her the very thing that made her believed in herself again.
Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on the part of one friend that she/he is superior to others. It is in my opinion, the best gift a friend could ever give to a friend to keep the dynamics of a friendship going, positive and strong. Well done girl, you deserve it.
This is by no means an attempt to humiliate anyone, just a fruitful scribble, as I was jogging my thoughts away about friends and acquaintances at 13:37 on a gloomy Sunday afternoon, listening to Sahri- Memori Bahgia.
Trust me the exam itself is bloody difficult, it should come with health hazard warnings posted left right and center. She looked pretty much under the weather everytime I saw her during the period building up to the exam. Poor thing was having enough.
After her third attempt, and failing it yet again, I found her almost everynight in my room, not really looking for anything in particular, but I knew she had so many questions she desperately wanting answers to . Most of them were whys.
She painted a bleak outlook for herself, ruminating that this is it for her, that she's going to quit medicine altogether and succumb to the pressure of her parents fixing her up with a hairy 30- something- year old Pakistani accountant from London. Who'd probably have to ask permission from his dear mother even to piss, let alone choosing which yogurt for the curry. We normally get quite 'critical' about Pakistani men after a handful or maruku. I called it bitching but she'd always disagree.
The conversations always careened towards relationships and exams. To both of us these were the two denominators for happiness and success. We sat down and examined what could have gone wrong. We established that we are both crap at sorting out the relationship part of the equation so we did a post mortem on her exam technique. Anyone who got this far in his/her career would have no problems in getting through a medical book, I told her, and we both agreed on that.
I have kept my tone suggestive but never derogatory. I wanted her to have a look at how she had answered the questions not what or how much she knows, as I know the much we know might vary from one person to the other but, the state of mind at which you enter the exam hall and the method at which you revise and question yourself in order to prepare for the big day is probably of more importance.
We go to exam to regurgitate what we know, so why in preparing for it we do boring things like reading? Shouldn't we be doing more fun things like short quizzes? Given you answer correctly, the motivation to learn more will get fuelled and you will inevitably read more. I know it's still reading, but let reading be a tool to revisions, not a sole objective to actually open a book thinking you will pass an exam. Yes geeky indeed. I was most chaffed at my newfound ability to consult on a serious matter like exams.
After sorting out Plan A for her, I told her how grateful I was for having her around in the apartment, the cooking when I wasn't feeling well, little things like picking up the posts from the main hall, still putting away things for me in the kitchen after nagging me about the pots and plates overflowing the strainer and me forgetting about it all over again. ( nagging never does me any good). Most importantly her moving up from London to come up to Yorkshire to work in the same hospital as me.
I was also reminding her on how some of the things I always thought were too complicated and tiresome to do during the ward rounds were actually the things that speeded it up. Methodically and meticulously was how she did it. I am yet to see somebody who can do as good a job as that. She is one true gem and I made a point to let her know.
2 weeks ago she was on cloud 9 when told that she had finally passed. What striked me was that she thought the Plan A may have worked to her advantage and partly contributed to her passing but my words on her very attributes were to her the very thing that made her believed in herself again.
Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on the part of one friend that she/he is superior to others. It is in my opinion, the best gift a friend could ever give to a friend to keep the dynamics of a friendship going, positive and strong. Well done girl, you deserve it.
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Acknowledgement of Neverness
The poem below is a piece captured from a blog of a dear friend. Back then these templates were nonexistent and the fact that the whole thing was made DIY style with html lingo, hingly techy and geeky (peace!) is something that I am very impressed about.
I have always remembered the existence of the blog way back in 1999. I have also read this poem, but somehow matters of the heart did not seem to want to carve any special shape or pattern to allow any polishing for perfection in due course.
It seemed to have dropped by and passed like a mundane tidal breathing, or if it did create any markings at all, it tarnished in a blink. This poem did not interest me at all until today.
A Poem...
You Love her more than life
You wish she felt the same
She is beauty beyond description
But does she know?
You are ugly and worthless
She is too beautiful for you
I have always remembered the existence of the blog way back in 1999. I have also read this poem, but somehow matters of the heart did not seem to want to carve any special shape or pattern to allow any polishing for perfection in due course.
It seemed to have dropped by and passed like a mundane tidal breathing, or if it did create any markings at all, it tarnished in a blink. This poem did not interest me at all until today.
A Poem...
You Love her more than life
She is your everything
If only she were yours
All the things you would do
All the words you would say
Your heart is so empty
If only it were filled with her Love
You wish she felt the same
You wish she could know how you feel
You Love her more than life
She is beauty beyond description
Her eyes
Her smile
Her skin
Her voice
You Love her more than life
But does she know?
Does she care?
Does she feel the same?
Could you offer her
Anything she would actually want?
Could you ever possess
Anything she would ever need?
You are ugly and worthless
You don't deserve her
You will never have her
She is too beautiful for you
Her eyes?Never at you
Her smile? Never with you
Her skin? Never against you
Her voice?Never calling you
And her Love?
Never for you
Ever…
Never ã Copyright 1994 Mike Hollingworth
Never ã Copyright 1994 Mike Hollingworth
I am uncertain as to what to feel or make of it. The whole poem imposes a certain level of resentment and a tinge of frustration. As I read through, it felt as if my weight has been lifted off and I am part of a few wild, swarming dried leaves on the ground. Aimless yet ample to take shape.
Swirling with the rest, forming a mini twister in a 3 walled antrum. Trying to escape realizing this is not the way I want to go.
Going faster as the gushing wind picks up momentum passing the small walless antrum, creating a Bernoulli for the pressure to rise and fall amalgamating a viscious twister.
Feeling trapped in the twister but surprisingly secured knowing as long as the wind keeps blowing, I, the piece of dry leaf will always float above the ground.
Run de MC
08:30 am
Looking at the mirror.
Didn't feel well. Who's that? You are pale o little one and ghastly. Eyes adopted bilateral panda style. Skin blotchy, one spot bang on tip of nose. Pain. Go back to bed.
Had better call Pauline and tell her am taking self certificate MC.
12:30 am
Made the quick call and Pauline played FBI. Not well is not well laaaaa..why la ask ask so much.
Was rude to Pauline. Felt worse. Don't care for now will give her some Roses chocolate on Monday, for peace offering.
Cramp mounting up to my eyeballs. Too much pain, too much pain.
Shall go back to bed and shall make self popular by not turning up to present Pain Pathway lecture to those middle aged men siting around ready to tear me apart. Bunch of hyenas in suits more like it. Still thinking of different clever ways of saying I don't know. Best one so far has been, 'That's a very good question Dr. C, shall we both research on it and compare notes in the next meeting?'
Already semi popular cos broke the remote control for the projector last week.
Truth is zero work done for the presentation. Been preoccupied with other pressing issues, relationships and whatnots. Been losing sleep over fear of growing old alone vs wearing pampers for stress incontinence.
Personally think that this is a big conspiracy to see how much pressure one can put unto such small surface area to volume ratio. Well, am seriously considering marriage proposals and having lots of babies..let them be quadruplets. Minimum effort maximum result. Or is it the other way round? All of course with epidurals...and of course the babies turn 18s the very next day.
Which accent will they have though? Yorkshire of Cockney?
Must block self from being too obvious about life being so utterly mundane. Must not be too broody. Must get married before 30.
Looking at the mirror.
Didn't feel well. Who's that? You are pale o little one and ghastly. Eyes adopted bilateral panda style. Skin blotchy, one spot bang on tip of nose. Pain. Go back to bed.
Had better call Pauline and tell her am taking self certificate MC.
12:30 am
Made the quick call and Pauline played FBI. Not well is not well laaaaa..why la ask ask so much.
Was rude to Pauline. Felt worse. Don't care for now will give her some Roses chocolate on Monday, for peace offering.
Cramp mounting up to my eyeballs. Too much pain, too much pain.
Shall go back to bed and shall make self popular by not turning up to present Pain Pathway lecture to those middle aged men siting around ready to tear me apart. Bunch of hyenas in suits more like it. Still thinking of different clever ways of saying I don't know. Best one so far has been, 'That's a very good question Dr. C, shall we both research on it and compare notes in the next meeting?'
Already semi popular cos broke the remote control for the projector last week.
Truth is zero work done for the presentation. Been preoccupied with other pressing issues, relationships and whatnots. Been losing sleep over fear of growing old alone vs wearing pampers for stress incontinence.
Personally think that this is a big conspiracy to see how much pressure one can put unto such small surface area to volume ratio. Well, am seriously considering marriage proposals and having lots of babies..let them be quadruplets. Minimum effort maximum result. Or is it the other way round? All of course with epidurals...and of course the babies turn 18s the very next day.
Which accent will they have though? Yorkshire of Cockney?
Must block self from being too obvious about life being so utterly mundane. Must not be too broody. Must get married before 30.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Auto pilot blogging
Note to self:
Must never again gobble down a big lump of fish with so much cheese in the sauce, and flush it down with 2 boxes of Yeo's Authentic Asian Drink (Soy Bean Drink), in a space of 2.7 minutes.
Imsak: 05:08 am
Woke up (or got woken up by a keen distant alarm clock: cheers AFM) : 04: 55 am
Warm up lump of fish: 2.5 mins -leave to stand-another 2.5 mins.
Debating to have gorgeous lychee or sexy seductive soya bean: 1.5 minutes
Went to wash face as vision not quite clear: many minutes, as eyes refuse to open fully though water was bloody cold.
Now siting down (must be careful with sudden jerky movement) fear that the fish might just get jolted out. Might be better for tummy if the food stays out. Felt projectile expulsion building up. *Burrp* Very rude mam. I know. Must train self to have more of that demure thingymijigy.
Am probably suffering from delayed gastric awakening. While the rest of body at least went into auto pilot if not on full manual, tummy still think body is at lull. Tummy now get sudden rush of demand to ferment fish. The gastric juices gush out like a waterfall, probably not quite gushing, more like Jeram Pasu than Niagara. Tummy react in a rather like mouth tasting a sour piece of asam boi. Tummy wiggle wiggle, felt squeegee and quizzy, and now feel like puking.
Now looking at the rota. Any chance of self certificate MC today? Arrrrrrkkk!!!! McQuaid the boss on maternity. He makan orang. Had better turn up or suffer mutilation by proxy.
After subuh will pray for McQuaid to get out on the right side of the bed. Right or left don't matter. Better still place a willing non-lethal insect in his shirt and make it tickle his armpit. Amiin. If that doesn't make him smile, don't know what will. Will pray for the poor insect's sanity post rummaging McQuaid's armpit.
McQuaid smile? Had got to be joking.
Must never again gobble down a big lump of fish with so much cheese in the sauce, and flush it down with 2 boxes of Yeo's Authentic Asian Drink (Soy Bean Drink), in a space of 2.7 minutes.
Imsak: 05:08 am
Woke up (or got woken up by a keen distant alarm clock: cheers AFM) : 04: 55 am
Warm up lump of fish: 2.5 mins -leave to stand-another 2.5 mins.
Debating to have gorgeous lychee or sexy seductive soya bean: 1.5 minutes
Went to wash face as vision not quite clear: many minutes, as eyes refuse to open fully though water was bloody cold.
Now siting down (must be careful with sudden jerky movement) fear that the fish might just get jolted out. Might be better for tummy if the food stays out. Felt projectile expulsion building up. *Burrp* Very rude mam. I know. Must train self to have more of that demure thingymijigy.
Am probably suffering from delayed gastric awakening. While the rest of body at least went into auto pilot if not on full manual, tummy still think body is at lull. Tummy now get sudden rush of demand to ferment fish. The gastric juices gush out like a waterfall, probably not quite gushing, more like Jeram Pasu than Niagara. Tummy react in a rather like mouth tasting a sour piece of asam boi. Tummy wiggle wiggle, felt squeegee and quizzy, and now feel like puking.
Now looking at the rota. Any chance of self certificate MC today? Arrrrrrkkk!!!! McQuaid the boss on maternity. He makan orang. Had better turn up or suffer mutilation by proxy.
After subuh will pray for McQuaid to get out on the right side of the bed. Right or left don't matter. Better still place a willing non-lethal insect in his shirt and make it tickle his armpit. Amiin. If that doesn't make him smile, don't know what will. Will pray for the poor insect's sanity post rummaging McQuaid's armpit.
McQuaid smile? Had got to be joking.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Pulling plug and traffic control.
It's another day in the Intensive care unit. 2 days ago I pulled the plug on the chap in Bed 2 . After a good two hours of pouring bucketload of adrenaline, flushing with some other skin-mottling agents, and not to mention getting the consultant out of bed, we gave up on him, or rather he gave up on us.
This guy's been a boozer possible 2/3 of his 40 years of living. Came in through the door vomiting blood. He actually dropped dead following that. A proper cardiac arrest. Heart stopped beating. I have no idea why they even bringing him to here, prolonging the inevitable yet again?The only thing going for him was probably the fact that he is 40. Other than that everything was packing away on him. Liver probably cobbled with fat, gut probably necrosed away, kidney probably shrivelled away to involution and brain probably pickled and mashed.
He's gone anyway. Will always remember that milli second I shone the pen torch through his eyes. They scattered a bizarre muted but buffed reflection . Sent chills down my spine it did. It felt like looking through a deep dark hollow overgrown, abandoned well. I felt somewhat obligingly drawn into them.
Today the chap in bed 1, was slowly giving up as well. He's 87 and had a major pipeline reconstruction. Bucketloads of blood went in this guy. He must have made himself worth some few thousand pounds with that amount of blood. Bottom line is we gave him the best chance of surviving. It's all up to him to pull it together. He seemed knackered and I suppose it's only fair on him.
Quietly I hope that he'd gone by the time I turn up tomorrow morning. Although he looked peaceful with all that tubes stucked in his throat and various other orifices how would we know if every single cells in his body is actually not at peace? in contrary, screaming in agony? For some people death sneak up on them in a rather unusual way but for me, it's like being honked at the T junction when it's showing green.
I looked up in the mirror after changing the bluescrubs. Was not sure if was looking at the reflection of Lady McBeth's cousin. So so knackered.
This guy's been a boozer possible 2/3 of his 40 years of living. Came in through the door vomiting blood. He actually dropped dead following that. A proper cardiac arrest. Heart stopped beating. I have no idea why they even bringing him to here, prolonging the inevitable yet again?The only thing going for him was probably the fact that he is 40. Other than that everything was packing away on him. Liver probably cobbled with fat, gut probably necrosed away, kidney probably shrivelled away to involution and brain probably pickled and mashed.
He's gone anyway. Will always remember that milli second I shone the pen torch through his eyes. They scattered a bizarre muted but buffed reflection . Sent chills down my spine it did. It felt like looking through a deep dark hollow overgrown, abandoned well. I felt somewhat obligingly drawn into them.
Today the chap in bed 1, was slowly giving up as well. He's 87 and had a major pipeline reconstruction. Bucketloads of blood went in this guy. He must have made himself worth some few thousand pounds with that amount of blood. Bottom line is we gave him the best chance of surviving. It's all up to him to pull it together. He seemed knackered and I suppose it's only fair on him.
Quietly I hope that he'd gone by the time I turn up tomorrow morning. Although he looked peaceful with all that tubes stucked in his throat and various other orifices how would we know if every single cells in his body is actually not at peace? in contrary, screaming in agony? For some people death sneak up on them in a rather unusual way but for me, it's like being honked at the T junction when it's showing green.
I looked up in the mirror after changing the bluescrubs. Was not sure if was looking at the reflection of Lady McBeth's cousin. So so knackered.
