Am currently in Obstetrics and Gynaecology posting now... and I'm starting to believe that misfortune is my middle name. If Lemony Snickett were to have another book, it should just feature me, becuase my workday is quite A Series of Unfortunate Events.
Why am I the only one who has been blessed enough to encounter not one, but two hand presentations on my vaginal examinations (pardon me... sorry to anyone who does not understand the terminologies) Basically, the only proper way we've been designed to come into this world is head first. Just like what we should do for the rest of our lives- use our head first in any matter. Yeah, maybe that's the message God's trying to get across to us. And we're not meant to come out in any other way, lest we get a clavicular fracture or stg. So my life sucks, because I ahd two patients coming in , bearing down and had to send them up to Labour Room stat, only to know that they were malpresentations. And both had to go for Emergency LSCS's
Am lazy to elaborate on the first case, but will elaborate on the second one. She was a Burmese lady who came bearing down- her os was already 7 cm wide(10 cm is when the baby will be fully delivered) and her membranes were bulging like mad, so I couldn't feel the presenting part well. Which is why sometimes I wished God would give me ultrasound hands to scan their abdomens first, because my obstetric grips are just now good enough. Am so theory based. Aih...
So to cut the long story short, she had to be sent for an Emergency LSCS. I hope she and her baby are alright, or I'll be feeling guilty for the rest of my life! They may not be Malaysian, but it doesn't make them any less human. yes, it was her fault on her part of barely going for antenatal check ups or scans, but she's probably a refugee or rest worker, so who can blame her? Or worse still, a rape victim (but her stewpid husband was around so guess she wasn't la)
So bloody upset. How can their tolerance towards pain be so high? I'm just waiting for the day when they come to the hospital with the baby's head riiighhtt ouutt through their vagina, or with a foot or hand dangling out, before they come for help. Seriously.
AUUUUURRRGGGGHHHHHhhhhhhhh
Life is so menchibaikan.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
New phone
Finally man! Got a new phone... out with the old in with the new!!
Haha what a contradiction to the previous post. It's ok, cause no one reads this blog anyway.
Haha what a contradiction to the previous post. It's ok, cause no one reads this blog anyway.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Suffer the Poor.
She fiddles with her outdated, scratched handphone whilst waiting for her mother to run errands in the post office. It's a sweltering hot day, but the air-condition is at full blast, cooling her down. The phone has survived many falls, been thrown by her during violent fits, and even has it's very own accidental superglue stain to it's back cover.
She muses to herself...
Dang it! If only I had one of those Quirky Qwerty phones or a cool touch screen phone. Doesn't have to be an I Phone- la... they're rather user unfriendly , but a Samsung Star would do.. Or just one of those Nokia N-series with their excellent 5.0 megapixel cameras...
*huffs and puffs*
Reclining in her chair and listening to the lazy cajoling of bossa nova music, she turns her attention to the dilapidated phone booths in front of her.
Who uses them anymore, anyways? They're just used to test the strength of vandals. The stronger you are, the more of that phone booth follows you home. She smiles to herself, recalling a friend of hers who brazenly yanked a whole phoneset-handle, coinbox, the works... off the booth. It now sits as a trophy in his rented house.
Just then, an Indonesian man, face scrunched up after years of hard labour, comes to one of the phone booths. His skin is wizened and tanned, with a tattered blue baseball cap shielding him from the scorching sun. His shirt is nary to brag about, but kept clean nonetheless- care shown by one who doesn't have much and has to value the few shirts he has, including the one on his back. His pants are aged as well, sporting a hole at left knee cap. But in this case, it was definitely a strategically located tear for stylish looks, but from squatting on it repeatedly.
Slipping a coin in, he frantically pushes in 12 digits, memorized at the back of his head. He nervously tugs at the handset cord, waiting for a reply. The unknown person at the other end picks up, and he puts in coin after coin, urgently relaying his message across whilst repeating his nervous cord-tugging. Numerous coins later, he puts the phone down with a sigh of relief, but looks dismally into his coin pouch. Before walking away, he puts his fingers into the coin return compartment, hoping some of his shillings were not taken, or hoping that perhaps someone else had left theirs behind. He does the same for the other two booths. His prying fingers find nothing in it to please them.
Not willing to give up, he kicks the litter strewn over the ground casually to search for perhaps, some forgotten or hidden treasure - coins, valuables- anything carelesly dropped in the hustle and bustle of those rushing to and fro from the wet market nearby. He finds none.
Her shameless observations are disrupted by two raps on the window- Her mother had finished with her errand, and wanted the doors opened. Leaning over, she unlocks the doors. She focuses her attention back on the man again. This time, he notices someone watching him. He stares back at her, almost indignant at being found out about.
As her mother drives away, she is humbled by the plight of the phoneless and poor. So much for wishing for the latest and trendiest phone, eh?
She muses to herself...
Dang it! If only I had one of those Quirky Qwerty phones or a cool touch screen phone. Doesn't have to be an I Phone- la... they're rather user unfriendly , but a Samsung Star would do.. Or just one of those Nokia N-series with their excellent 5.0 megapixel cameras...
*huffs and puffs*
Reclining in her chair and listening to the lazy cajoling of bossa nova music, she turns her attention to the dilapidated phone booths in front of her.
Who uses them anymore, anyways? They're just used to test the strength of vandals. The stronger you are, the more of that phone booth follows you home. She smiles to herself, recalling a friend of hers who brazenly yanked a whole phoneset-handle, coinbox, the works... off the booth. It now sits as a trophy in his rented house.
Just then, an Indonesian man, face scrunched up after years of hard labour, comes to one of the phone booths. His skin is wizened and tanned, with a tattered blue baseball cap shielding him from the scorching sun. His shirt is nary to brag about, but kept clean nonetheless- care shown by one who doesn't have much and has to value the few shirts he has, including the one on his back. His pants are aged as well, sporting a hole at left knee cap. But in this case, it was definitely a strategically located tear for stylish looks, but from squatting on it repeatedly.
Slipping a coin in, he frantically pushes in 12 digits, memorized at the back of his head. He nervously tugs at the handset cord, waiting for a reply. The unknown person at the other end picks up, and he puts in coin after coin, urgently relaying his message across whilst repeating his nervous cord-tugging. Numerous coins later, he puts the phone down with a sigh of relief, but looks dismally into his coin pouch. Before walking away, he puts his fingers into the coin return compartment, hoping some of his shillings were not taken, or hoping that perhaps someone else had left theirs behind. He does the same for the other two booths. His prying fingers find nothing in it to please them.
Not willing to give up, he kicks the litter strewn over the ground casually to search for perhaps, some forgotten or hidden treasure - coins, valuables- anything carelesly dropped in the hustle and bustle of those rushing to and fro from the wet market nearby. He finds none.
Her shameless observations are disrupted by two raps on the window- Her mother had finished with her errand, and wanted the doors opened. Leaning over, she unlocks the doors. She focuses her attention back on the man again. This time, he notices someone watching him. He stares back at her, almost indignant at being found out about.
As her mother drives away, she is humbled by the plight of the phoneless and poor. So much for wishing for the latest and trendiest phone, eh?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Bittersweet Bday.
Ah.... Another year's passed, a year older, a year wiser... perhaps.
The day begun with me waking up at eleven, realizing that I could not sleep well, was grumpy cause mum was snoring. But even worse, it was marred because I had to dream of him. I had to dream that he regretted, and came back to me. Where he realized that she was a total scheming manipulative bitch, and actually missed me. How pathetic. I had to dream about us being close and caring and loving...it was alll such a haze, yet so real. Even in my dreams, the bitter pill of regret and sorrow came washing through me. I almost died in my dreams. Whether of happiness or sadness, I do not know. I guess this is what John Mayer meant by his song 'Dreaming with A Broken Heart', where waking up was the hardest part.
It's painful, and the schoing pain and loneliness still sears through me. But it is my birthday wish that nothing ever hurts me as much as this again, and that I will not be looking and have the courage to remain single. To enjoy my newfound freedom, and learn to spend more time with friends. =) At least facebook helped to remind my friends it was my bday, got some wisheds from long lost friends, unexpected ppl. But was inda upset I didn't get wishes from those I wanted to hear from. I may want him to go thru pain like I did, but would I want anyone to feel like what I did? It's too cruel a wish.
Although he messaged me just last friday, A message that seemed so formal and like he was coerced into sending it by his family members or silislut, so that I don't give her a hard time during induction... It sounded stg like this ... ' I know we ended our relationship badly. I want to thank you for making me the man I am today. Blabla happy holidays. Take Care.'
And I so wanted to reply (sorry for bimbotic english... so wanted to is totally Americanised)
...'If I made you the lying cheating man that you are today, then I must truly apologize. You have disappointed and disgusted me, and I have no respect for you or her whatsoever.Good riddance to bad rubbish'
However,I wish too that my spiritual walk will be strengthened. Since I have read 'the Shack' in which a father whose daughter was murdered in the worst possible manner imagined -an open ended question, as her body was never found - had to learn to forgive his daughter's murderer, what more I, over a relationship that was never meant to be anyway. It was all in His/(Her? -God's portrayed as a black woman in the Shack) plan. But if time really is the best prescription, I hope that I won't wish for it to fly by in such a manner that I won't fill it wit meaningful happenings and relationships with others, just to get over the sadness. But that I will seize each day as it comes, have a brighter outlook in life and be much less of a grouch that complains incessantly. Like my mother put it, I really do not want to sound like my aunty, whose highlight of the day is dessicating her food with a pair of scissors she whips out from her handbag, lest she complains bout her digestive system and poor bladder and bowel control for the rest of the day. Ahahahah.
The rest of the day, anyway, was pretty eventful. Dim Sum with damily and bro's friends, played Scrabble and a bit of Bowling Wii, and had wonderful Vietnamese food for dinner. Oh, and awesome cheesecake made by my bro's friends gf for his belated bday. But it was my bday, so I tumpang glamour also la. Hahaha.
Would like to depart with a message I saw donned outside a really quaint Suburban Church;
'7 days without prayer makes One Weak'
Hope to be able to practice more prayer! Don't wanna be weak..
The day begun with me waking up at eleven, realizing that I could not sleep well, was grumpy cause mum was snoring. But even worse, it was marred because I had to dream of him. I had to dream that he regretted, and came back to me. Where he realized that she was a total scheming manipulative bitch, and actually missed me. How pathetic. I had to dream about us being close and caring and loving...it was alll such a haze, yet so real. Even in my dreams, the bitter pill of regret and sorrow came washing through me. I almost died in my dreams. Whether of happiness or sadness, I do not know. I guess this is what John Mayer meant by his song 'Dreaming with A Broken Heart', where waking up was the hardest part.
It's painful, and the schoing pain and loneliness still sears through me. But it is my birthday wish that nothing ever hurts me as much as this again, and that I will not be looking and have the courage to remain single. To enjoy my newfound freedom, and learn to spend more time with friends. =) At least facebook helped to remind my friends it was my bday, got some wisheds from long lost friends, unexpected ppl. But was inda upset I didn't get wishes from those I wanted to hear from. I may want him to go thru pain like I did, but would I want anyone to feel like what I did? It's too cruel a wish.
Although he messaged me just last friday, A message that seemed so formal and like he was coerced into sending it by his family members or silislut, so that I don't give her a hard time during induction... It sounded stg like this ... ' I know we ended our relationship badly. I want to thank you for making me the man I am today. Blabla happy holidays. Take Care.'
And I so wanted to reply (sorry for bimbotic english... so wanted to is totally Americanised)
...'If I made you the lying cheating man that you are today, then I must truly apologize. You have disappointed and disgusted me, and I have no respect for you or her whatsoever.Good riddance to bad rubbish'
However,I wish too that my spiritual walk will be strengthened. Since I have read 'the Shack' in which a father whose daughter was murdered in the worst possible manner imagined -an open ended question, as her body was never found - had to learn to forgive his daughter's murderer, what more I, over a relationship that was never meant to be anyway. It was all in His/(Her? -God's portrayed as a black woman in the Shack) plan. But if time really is the best prescription, I hope that I won't wish for it to fly by in such a manner that I won't fill it wit meaningful happenings and relationships with others, just to get over the sadness. But that I will seize each day as it comes, have a brighter outlook in life and be much less of a grouch that complains incessantly. Like my mother put it, I really do not want to sound like my aunty, whose highlight of the day is dessicating her food with a pair of scissors she whips out from her handbag, lest she complains bout her digestive system and poor bladder and bowel control for the rest of the day. Ahahahah.
The rest of the day, anyway, was pretty eventful. Dim Sum with damily and bro's friends, played Scrabble and a bit of Bowling Wii, and had wonderful Vietnamese food for dinner. Oh, and awesome cheesecake made by my bro's friends gf for his belated bday. But it was my bday, so I tumpang glamour also la. Hahaha.
Would like to depart with a message I saw donned outside a really quaint Suburban Church;
'7 days without prayer makes One Weak'
Hope to be able to practice more prayer! Don't wanna be weak..
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Afterword...
Am now in a cyber cafe
'Ma hai! Lei mo kau chor ar....'
And "F*** man, that motherf***** just f****** killed me'
I never knew that the word f*** could be used multiple times in the same sentence, with so little variation.
The word f*** has really lost any of it's coolness and power to vent frustration, when used by tiny lil pipsqueaks whose voices haven't even cracked.
Back home, after it's all been over.
A sad feeling washed over me as I left the college. Although I hsould be happy that the arduous journey has been over, I must admit that I'll miss hanging out and doing these things:
1) pretending to do ward work everytime we thought we heart the footsteps of a lecturer coming nearer, and resuming to out silly banter after knowing it was just a hospital staff.
2) lunch time and girl-watching together with the guys, and pairing them up with the ever-so-sexy Mr. Sin Hoe...
3) Hanging out at that lil cafeteria table, and gossiping over tea, and angrily giving the look-of-death to others who occupied the table (Unicorn Club, anyone?)
4) The daily banter between me and S and J, where we would gaily make fun of each other. S would be called the bimbo, I would bear the honorary title of Shit-Face (cause it's sour most of the time-sorry la my facial muscles have a spasm) and J being... ah nothing to call her la I just call her a bitch or puki-face. Hahahaha...( Luckily my Mum doesn't know my blog exists)
5) The occasional clubbing sessions which we would all do our embarassing dances, but S of course would just sit and grin at us shaking her head
6) The few Coffee Bean sessions I've had with my friends, and chit-chatting as much as we possible could in the final days of uni life.
Snifff Sniffff I really miss you guys! Love you all, and although only 4 ppl know of this blog, I dedicate all my love to you guys anyway. Thank you for making Uni days so beautiful for me... =) May the Lord bless and quide you all to the best that you will possibly be... and allow me to be the God Mum of your kids.
'Ma hai! Lei mo kau chor ar....'
And "F*** man, that motherf***** just f****** killed me'
I never knew that the word f*** could be used multiple times in the same sentence, with so little variation.
The word f*** has really lost any of it's coolness and power to vent frustration, when used by tiny lil pipsqueaks whose voices haven't even cracked.
Back home, after it's all been over.
A sad feeling washed over me as I left the college. Although I hsould be happy that the arduous journey has been over, I must admit that I'll miss hanging out and doing these things:
1) pretending to do ward work everytime we thought we heart the footsteps of a lecturer coming nearer, and resuming to out silly banter after knowing it was just a hospital staff.
2) lunch time and girl-watching together with the guys, and pairing them up with the ever-so-sexy Mr. Sin Hoe...
3) Hanging out at that lil cafeteria table, and gossiping over tea, and angrily giving the look-of-death to others who occupied the table (Unicorn Club, anyone?)
4) The daily banter between me and S and J, where we would gaily make fun of each other. S would be called the bimbo, I would bear the honorary title of Shit-Face (cause it's sour most of the time-sorry la my facial muscles have a spasm) and J being... ah nothing to call her la I just call her a bitch or puki-face. Hahahaha...( Luckily my Mum doesn't know my blog exists)
5) The occasional clubbing sessions which we would all do our embarassing dances, but S of course would just sit and grin at us shaking her head
6) The few Coffee Bean sessions I've had with my friends, and chit-chatting as much as we possible could in the final days of uni life.
Snifff Sniffff I really miss you guys! Love you all, and although only 4 ppl know of this blog, I dedicate all my love to you guys anyway. Thank you for making Uni days so beautiful for me... =) May the Lord bless and quide you all to the best that you will possibly be... and allow me to be the God Mum of your kids.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Joys
Thank God for the business of my days, and friends who fill it up with ideas and plans. Without J, J and S, I would be stuck in that valley of despair for a much longer time.
Truly, being single has reminded me of the joys of not having another half to think about all the time. Now that I am free to oblige to so many others, I shall do so. Why stick around to make only one person happy, when you can divide yourself to do so with others? Why leave this place, knowing with uncertainty, that all that time has been spent with someone who can't guarantee me security (Let's take things one day at a time was a tagline), when I can leave this place knowing I have spent time laughing and going through the ups and downs of uni life, the joys and the pains, with so many others?
So I say, adios to relationships and all their burdens, and Welcome to singledom and freedom.
An ex of mine said I don't know how to think for two yet- that may be true, so I just might need to find someone like me, so we can think for our ownselves independantly, but knowing, at the end of the day- That we belong to each other. Trust and commitment without all the hoo-ha and constant maintainence, like some puppy that needs toilet training.
Thank you for the pain you've put me through, to know that enough is enough.
Truly, being single has reminded me of the joys of not having another half to think about all the time. Now that I am free to oblige to so many others, I shall do so. Why stick around to make only one person happy, when you can divide yourself to do so with others? Why leave this place, knowing with uncertainty, that all that time has been spent with someone who can't guarantee me security (Let's take things one day at a time was a tagline), when I can leave this place knowing I have spent time laughing and going through the ups and downs of uni life, the joys and the pains, with so many others?
So I say, adios to relationships and all their burdens, and Welcome to singledom and freedom.
An ex of mine said I don't know how to think for two yet- that may be true, so I just might need to find someone like me, so we can think for our ownselves independantly, but knowing, at the end of the day- That we belong to each other. Trust and commitment without all the hoo-ha and constant maintainence, like some puppy that needs toilet training.
Thank you for the pain you've put me through, to know that enough is enough.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Taken for Granted.
You bring her out everywhere, to the movies, to romantic places.
What was I to you then, all these 2 years?
We only went to the movies like, 4 times. Making it a 6 monthly thing.
And going to Pak Putra, is really really far for you?
I hope you take a fucking long walk of a short pier, and let that pier be Jetty.
Really, what was I to you, all these years? A piece of earwax?
You say you've been taken for granted?
I beg to differ.
What was I to you then, all these 2 years?
We only went to the movies like, 4 times. Making it a 6 monthly thing.
And going to Pak Putra, is really really far for you?
I hope you take a fucking long walk of a short pier, and let that pier be Jetty.
Really, what was I to you, all these years? A piece of earwax?
You say you've been taken for granted?
I beg to differ.
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