Sunday, June 26, 2005
Dealing with people
Ramayana balcony
Sometimes people lie. Big lies, small lies. White lies people call it when it shouldn’t hurt anybody. A lie that to some, is like means to an end. You don’t want to tell the truth but you don’t want to lie. You are not lying but you are not telling everything.
Reason is because you want to protect those you love, you don’t want them to get hurt. You don’t want your girlfriend for example run into the wilderness like a blindfolded baboon at the first honest story about the company’s dinner that you’ve attended knowing well that she will overreact and you want to protect her from being eaten by the hungry tiger (this is if you are living in the same postcode as the reserve forest).
People also get paid for the price of lying. Some may not speak to the counterpart for weeks, get stuff thrown at and clothes burnt. I don’t know, people can do all sorts of things, but if the love between two people is strong enough and the intention is understood well, they would kiss and make up. Eventually.
Those that don’t, especially the ones that couldn’t forgive but blow things out of proportion and wouldn’t calm down, I have a small inclination to think that they don’t want to stay in the relationship much longer than me sitting opposite a woman with a shower-cap and burgundy lipstick in a red double-decker singing Madonna- Like a Virgin.
Their statement of I love you must be treated as dubious as possible. These people are just waiting for cracks to appear to make it a reason to leave. They normally want the last word and will leave most bitter ones at it too, so it cuts really deep and you bleeding for weeks beyond resuscitation.
I spoke to relationship master, Cik T this morning and actually, that is what she said. Amongst other things she also said that be careful of those who cry wolf all the time. Chances are they are not very secure with themselves, how can they be secure enough to make you feel secure?
I knew all this, but when it comes to your own heart, like Darth Trust said, it’s difficult to follow your logic when it comes to matters of the heart. But maybe O Darth Trust, this bloody headwinded-selfish-arrogant-superblob needs to learn it the hard way.
Little people know what really turns me on. Able to open a suitcases combination lock without knowing the code is sexy. Able to open the door without a key is sexy. Fast mildly reckless driving is sexy (with a purpose)-this I see as vital when I need to get to Gleneagles as fast as possible when my waterbroke while doing my Bali style garden being too bored not doing anaesthetics while waiting for the due day. Golly I think I need to find me a Mr.Bond or Botak Chin.
Ok, not crying anymore, I have faced the brutal facts that nobody loves me because they now know my true character, which is I am not compassionate towards male species. To be honest, do we see people being compassionate to each other unless there is something cooking? I am talking about men-women kind of interaction.
Just like what Miss Hepburn said when Mr. Hughes commented about his relationship with some bungalow girl- We are just friends.
Hah! Just friends Howard? Men can’t be friends with women! They must possess them all or leave them all. It’s primitive urge from caveman days. It’s all in Darwin. Hunt the flesh, kill the flesh, eat the flesh. That’s the male sex all over. - The Aviator
Quite sexy Miss Hepburn when she said it with mouth half opened all the time like she has a sticky painful ulcer in her inner lips.
Back to being selfish me, I am going through an emotional roller coster at the moment and I am fast making hate fans than I could chomp on the cabbage strips at Idlan’s birthday bash.
What made me smile today though (you have to have this when you feel down, replay it in your mind because the sun ain’t yours to keep to brighten up your day all the time) was when I told Cik T what happened during my on call last night. She laughed with a silent gap in the middle. I was worried that she choked or something.
Anyway, it’s funny last night I said. A woman in her forties was brought in having stabbed herself just below the ribcage. I saw her in the resuscitation room in A&E and she was well behaved with no apparent mischief brewing but she still had to go to theatre for that wound to be explored.
Something told me she’s lost a few screws when it was terribly difficult to carry out a normal conversation with her.
My name is Dr. Ahmad and I a..(being interrupted rudely)
Ahhh…(she cut in)..You don’t look like you’re an Ahmad, is your husband a Paki?
I was speechless for a fifth of a second.
Nevermind my name, I put people to sleep in the operating theatre..so I..(again interrupted rudely)
She cut again ..ahhhh..so you are an anaesthetist?
Clever woman nonetheless, half of Malaysia probably wouldn't know what anaesthetists do. I don’t think.
We proceeded and I got all my checklist questions through but bit like a bumpy ride to Mexico. Hot and bumpy. Next time please stab here ok, to achieve best result. No that was only in my head.
In the anaesthetic room, the surgical SHO needed bloods for group and save so he stabbed the lady’s vein with passion but failed.
I guess the force of my passion for stabbing veins are stronger, but to do it with slickness, I use a different technique.. a little piece of equipment was needed. Without going into the technicality, let’s just say I was standing there with the woman and my ODA, waiting for the little-equipment-which-will-make-non-anaesthetists-go-wah-you-so-terrer-one to be fetched by the scrub nurse.
I made a conversation with the slightly whimpering woman.
So, why did you stab yourself?
She let out a sigh and said Cos I ave’got moustache. See.
And that is why you wanted to kill yourself? And she didn’t have any.
Of course I then said I can’t see any, besides, every woman got some.
I mean Michelle got some yes, I looked up at my ODA. She was shocked, but quickly said yeahhh I have got some but later glared and bit her lips at me.
I mean mine are worse. I said trying to save the day.
She then said…see you said yours is worse meaning I’ve got loads. And she sobbed and wailed.
Had better shut it next time when you see Citalopram in the drug bag. I was only making a conversation.
Nothing I do is right these days. So many hearts to look after, nevermind mine.
So tired, on bloody call again tonight, and for the rest of next 5 weeks.
Sometimes people lie. Big lies, small lies. White lies people call it when it shouldn’t hurt anybody. A lie that to some, is like means to an end. You don’t want to tell the truth but you don’t want to lie. You are not lying but you are not telling everything.
Reason is because you want to protect those you love, you don’t want them to get hurt. You don’t want your girlfriend for example run into the wilderness like a blindfolded baboon at the first honest story about the company’s dinner that you’ve attended knowing well that she will overreact and you want to protect her from being eaten by the hungry tiger (this is if you are living in the same postcode as the reserve forest).
People also get paid for the price of lying. Some may not speak to the counterpart for weeks, get stuff thrown at and clothes burnt. I don’t know, people can do all sorts of things, but if the love between two people is strong enough and the intention is understood well, they would kiss and make up. Eventually.
Those that don’t, especially the ones that couldn’t forgive but blow things out of proportion and wouldn’t calm down, I have a small inclination to think that they don’t want to stay in the relationship much longer than me sitting opposite a woman with a shower-cap and burgundy lipstick in a red double-decker singing Madonna- Like a Virgin.
Their statement of I love you must be treated as dubious as possible. These people are just waiting for cracks to appear to make it a reason to leave. They normally want the last word and will leave most bitter ones at it too, so it cuts really deep and you bleeding for weeks beyond resuscitation.
I spoke to relationship master, Cik T this morning and actually, that is what she said. Amongst other things she also said that be careful of those who cry wolf all the time. Chances are they are not very secure with themselves, how can they be secure enough to make you feel secure?
I knew all this, but when it comes to your own heart, like Darth Trust said, it’s difficult to follow your logic when it comes to matters of the heart. But maybe O Darth Trust, this bloody headwinded-selfish-arrogant-superblob needs to learn it the hard way.
Little people know what really turns me on. Able to open a suitcases combination lock without knowing the code is sexy. Able to open the door without a key is sexy. Fast mildly reckless driving is sexy (with a purpose)-this I see as vital when I need to get to Gleneagles as fast as possible when my waterbroke while doing my Bali style garden being too bored not doing anaesthetics while waiting for the due day. Golly I think I need to find me a Mr.Bond or Botak Chin.
Ok, not crying anymore, I have faced the brutal facts that nobody loves me because they now know my true character, which is I am not compassionate towards male species. To be honest, do we see people being compassionate to each other unless there is something cooking? I am talking about men-women kind of interaction.
Just like what Miss Hepburn said when Mr. Hughes commented about his relationship with some bungalow girl- We are just friends.
Hah! Just friends Howard? Men can’t be friends with women! They must possess them all or leave them all. It’s primitive urge from caveman days. It’s all in Darwin. Hunt the flesh, kill the flesh, eat the flesh. That’s the male sex all over. - The Aviator
Quite sexy Miss Hepburn when she said it with mouth half opened all the time like she has a sticky painful ulcer in her inner lips.
Back to being selfish me, I am going through an emotional roller coster at the moment and I am fast making hate fans than I could chomp on the cabbage strips at Idlan’s birthday bash.
What made me smile today though (you have to have this when you feel down, replay it in your mind because the sun ain’t yours to keep to brighten up your day all the time) was when I told Cik T what happened during my on call last night. She laughed with a silent gap in the middle. I was worried that she choked or something.
Anyway, it’s funny last night I said. A woman in her forties was brought in having stabbed herself just below the ribcage. I saw her in the resuscitation room in A&E and she was well behaved with no apparent mischief brewing but she still had to go to theatre for that wound to be explored.
Something told me she’s lost a few screws when it was terribly difficult to carry out a normal conversation with her.
My name is Dr. Ahmad and I a..(being interrupted rudely)
Ahhh…(she cut in)..You don’t look like you’re an Ahmad, is your husband a Paki?
I was speechless for a fifth of a second.
Nevermind my name, I put people to sleep in the operating theatre..so I..(again interrupted rudely)
She cut again ..ahhhh..so you are an anaesthetist?
Clever woman nonetheless, half of Malaysia probably wouldn't know what anaesthetists do. I don’t think.
We proceeded and I got all my checklist questions through but bit like a bumpy ride to Mexico. Hot and bumpy. Next time please stab here ok, to achieve best result. No that was only in my head.
In the anaesthetic room, the surgical SHO needed bloods for group and save so he stabbed the lady’s vein with passion but failed.
I guess the force of my passion for stabbing veins are stronger, but to do it with slickness, I use a different technique.. a little piece of equipment was needed. Without going into the technicality, let’s just say I was standing there with the woman and my ODA, waiting for the little-equipment-which-will-make-non-anaesthetists-go-wah-you-so-terrer-one to be fetched by the scrub nurse.
I made a conversation with the slightly whimpering woman.
So, why did you stab yourself?
She let out a sigh and said Cos I ave’got moustache. See.
And that is why you wanted to kill yourself? And she didn’t have any.
Of course I then said I can’t see any, besides, every woman got some.
I mean Michelle got some yes, I looked up at my ODA. She was shocked, but quickly said yeahhh I have got some but later glared and bit her lips at me.
I mean mine are worse. I said trying to save the day.
She then said…see you said yours is worse meaning I’ve got loads. And she sobbed and wailed.
Had better shut it next time when you see Citalopram in the drug bag. I was only making a conversation.
Nothing I do is right these days. So many hearts to look after, nevermind mine.
So tired, on bloody call again tonight, and for the rest of next 5 weeks.
