Just come off night shift. It's been a variable 4 nights. A couple have been quiet (ok, I am allowed to use the 'Q' word since I'm not at work), but last night was eventful.
About last night. My registrar phoned me about 10pm to tell me he had to go across to the other hospital and asked if I would go down to the cath lab to hold on to the registrar bleep and to just be there in case the other registrar (who was scrubbed up and assisting with the angio) needed to leave for any reason. And so I trotted down. Patient on the table was a 36-year-old lady who had recently been treated with coronary artery stents for ischaemic heart disease and had come back in as an emergency with chest pain. When I joined them, they had already seen the "blockages" in the stented vessel on angiography and were doing the usual "clot busting". Well, we were there a while. Patient started to experience chest pain on the table and was repeatedly sick and was moaning about the vomit on her face and insisted that I wipe it off without brushing her eyes with the paper towel. It was a difficult procedure that went more and more pear shaped. She then arrested on the table and soon, the anaesthetists were in, she was being resuscitated and she was intubated. I had to leave about 40 minutes into the chest compressions, but learnt that she was pronounced dead not long after.
All very matter-of-fact. Until you get a chance to sit down after all the adrenaline-pumping action of the night. It hits you that a few hours ago, this lady was with her children, she was chatting and living a life like you and I. Even an hour before she died, she was upset that her face was covered in vomit. Little did she know that it would be her last hour alive and she didn't even get to say goodbye to people who mattered to her.
Death is a part of the job. But when it knocks on the door of someone so young, someone who really isn't much older than you are, someone whom you expected to have quite a few years ahead, it does shake you somewhat. It stops you in your tracks and makes you think if you're living your life or just merely existing. What about the people who matter? Do they know how much they mean to you? Are there regrets? Unfulfilled dreams? On second thought, the grief really lies with the people who are left behind. The parents who'd never ever imagined their child would pre-decease them. The children who are now without a mother. The partner who's without his soulmate.
No, no, I did not cry. I didn't know the lady. She was a patient. Another patient. Have I turned into a cold, unfeeling monster? Or am I just numbed to it all? I don't have all the answers, but I'm grateful that at least I had the chance to pause for thought.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Off on many tangents
The power of words. The beauty of writing. It always amazes me how therapeutic expressing oneself in a prose is.
My mind is scattered. I can't focus on typing about any one thing. Thoughts just keep popping up and lifting me off in a tangent with them. So here's a collection of my random pop-ups...
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The life of the wondering nomad continues. I said to mum the other day, " I'll stop moving by the time I'm 30." Perhaps. I do moan about the stresses of not really being rooted anywhere, but at the same time, it's almost addictive. Is it the buzz of uncertainty that is addictive?
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Then there's the flood of "what ifs". I maintain that in life, the worst feeling is that of regret. In order to prevent going down that road, I tend to over-analyse everything. Perhaps I can blame it on being a libran- needing to weigh up every factor and eventuality before making a decision. Maybe it's nurture- the pragmatic, objective way of approaching and dealing with everything, even if it's at the expense of numbing any emotions that seep through my defences. Perhaps it's just down to simple fear- the fear of being wrong.
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My heritage. My Singaporeaness or lack of. A couple of Singaporean friends that I've made since moving to London said to me that I'm really more "angmohfied" than I am Singaporean. Is it my outlook? My mannerisms? Language? Attitude? What constitutes being Singaporean? Am I going to end up being a confused character who doesn't really "fit in" in Singaporean society? How will I cope when I return to the country of my birth? Will I feel like a foreigner on my own soil?
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On God. God and I have spent a patchy summer together. I know He is there, I know what He says is good, I know where the lines have to be drawn. Yet, the rebellious side of me has again re-surfaced. I do the things I know I'm not meant to do, then feel guilty about it all, then think that if I avoid communicating with God, I won't have to think about it. Then I go to church, feel remourseful and resolve to try harder next time. Then the cycle repeats itself, but this time, I've learnt to cope with the guilt better and justify my actions. It's a slippery slope down. But how can you turn away from the hand that has guided your every step? Is anything or anyone even worth turning your back from God for? I've decided that if I can't face it head on, I'll just have to make do with running from it for now. Yes, the ostrich style I know, but instead of just burying my head in the sand, I'll have to do some sprinting as well.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
My mind is scattered. I can't focus on typing about any one thing. Thoughts just keep popping up and lifting me off in a tangent with them. So here's a collection of my random pop-ups...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The life of the wondering nomad continues. I said to mum the other day, " I'll stop moving by the time I'm 30." Perhaps. I do moan about the stresses of not really being rooted anywhere, but at the same time, it's almost addictive. Is it the buzz of uncertainty that is addictive?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then there's the flood of "what ifs". I maintain that in life, the worst feeling is that of regret. In order to prevent going down that road, I tend to over-analyse everything. Perhaps I can blame it on being a libran- needing to weigh up every factor and eventuality before making a decision. Maybe it's nurture- the pragmatic, objective way of approaching and dealing with everything, even if it's at the expense of numbing any emotions that seep through my defences. Perhaps it's just down to simple fear- the fear of being wrong.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My heritage. My Singaporeaness or lack of. A couple of Singaporean friends that I've made since moving to London said to me that I'm really more "angmohfied" than I am Singaporean. Is it my outlook? My mannerisms? Language? Attitude? What constitutes being Singaporean? Am I going to end up being a confused character who doesn't really "fit in" in Singaporean society? How will I cope when I return to the country of my birth? Will I feel like a foreigner on my own soil?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
On God. God and I have spent a patchy summer together. I know He is there, I know what He says is good, I know where the lines have to be drawn. Yet, the rebellious side of me has again re-surfaced. I do the things I know I'm not meant to do, then feel guilty about it all, then think that if I avoid communicating with God, I won't have to think about it. Then I go to church, feel remourseful and resolve to try harder next time. Then the cycle repeats itself, but this time, I've learnt to cope with the guilt better and justify my actions. It's a slippery slope down. But how can you turn away from the hand that has guided your every step? Is anything or anyone even worth turning your back from God for? I've decided that if I can't face it head on, I'll just have to make do with running from it for now. Yes, the ostrich style I know, but instead of just burying my head in the sand, I'll have to do some sprinting as well.
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Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Add this to my previous Milo post
Further to my post last year about my relationship with Milo, I have a little more to say.
I encountered Milo at the Sainsbury's supermarket nearby. This brought some delight. The bargain-hunter Singaporean in me was even more pleased by the fact that it was cheaper than my usual "tummy warming" bedtime drink- horlicks. Sadly, the pleasure ends at the purchase.
I ladelled a big spoonful of the brown stuff into my mouth (yes, I have to admit that I have a disgusting habit of eating as well as drinking my Milo) and my immediate thoughts were- "There's something dreadfully wrong here!" The texture was way too grainy and the flavour far less chocolatey and much sweeter than the stuff I know as Milo.
Next thing that pops into my head is "Why?!?!"
I examine the tin and discover that it is imported from Africa. Perhaps they like their Milo sweeter, grainier and less chocolatey. Lesson learnt. Always read the label before you buy. Especially when buying Milo. Or just stick to Horlicks.
I encountered Milo at the Sainsbury's supermarket nearby. This brought some delight. The bargain-hunter Singaporean in me was even more pleased by the fact that it was cheaper than my usual "tummy warming" bedtime drink- horlicks. Sadly, the pleasure ends at the purchase.
I ladelled a big spoonful of the brown stuff into my mouth (yes, I have to admit that I have a disgusting habit of eating as well as drinking my Milo) and my immediate thoughts were- "There's something dreadfully wrong here!" The texture was way too grainy and the flavour far less chocolatey and much sweeter than the stuff I know as Milo.
Next thing that pops into my head is "Why?!?!"
I examine the tin and discover that it is imported from Africa. Perhaps they like their Milo sweeter, grainier and less chocolatey. Lesson learnt. Always read the label before you buy. Especially when buying Milo. Or just stick to Horlicks.
What's in the name?
Ever had one of those strange feelings when you think about a word again and again until it becomes completely alien to you? I often experience this "word strangeness" when I stare at a word for a prolonged period of time.
Last night however, was the first time a similar feeling occured, but with my name. For a moment, my name didn't seem like mine. I felt detached from my name. I went a step further and thought about all the other people I know who share my name and it seemed to suit them fine. It just didn't quite belong to me.
Maybe I am going a little crazy...
Last night however, was the first time a similar feeling occured, but with my name. For a moment, my name didn't seem like mine. I felt detached from my name. I went a step further and thought about all the other people I know who share my name and it seemed to suit them fine. It just didn't quite belong to me.
Maybe I am going a little crazy...
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Jibberish
It's 5am and I'm on my last night shift! Tried to get some kip ealier on, but I kept getting bleeped and now I've pretty much given up and am choosing to stay awake.
I want to write something on my blog, but I can't seem come up with anything coherent. So this post is a bit of a post for the sake of posting...
As I'm writing this, I'm beginning to see how ridiculous it is, so I shall just stop here...
I want to write something on my blog, but I can't seem come up with anything coherent. So this post is a bit of a post for the sake of posting...
As I'm writing this, I'm beginning to see how ridiculous it is, so I shall just stop here...
Monday, October 22, 2007
Letter to my blog
Dearest blog
I've neglected you, haven't I?
Seriously, it's all that facebook's fault. Ok, perhaps you think it's a lame excuse, but facebook should come with a health warning! It's really quite addictive. And you know we all have 24 hours in a day.
Having said that, I do miss you much, my blog. You allow me to convert my feelings to thoughts and thoughts to words. You've shared in my joys, encountered my wrath and been blotted by my tears.
So perhaps we should rekindle this connection we once shared. I will try to make some effort. And you, well... you'll be there, as long as google's in business.
Me
I've neglected you, haven't I?
Seriously, it's all that facebook's fault. Ok, perhaps you think it's a lame excuse, but facebook should come with a health warning! It's really quite addictive. And you know we all have 24 hours in a day.
Having said that, I do miss you much, my blog. You allow me to convert my feelings to thoughts and thoughts to words. You've shared in my joys, encountered my wrath and been blotted by my tears.
So perhaps we should rekindle this connection we once shared. I will try to make some effort. And you, well... you'll be there, as long as google's in business.
Me
Friday, June 22, 2007
Song of the moment.
Everything
Tim Hughes
God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping
God in my resting
There in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking
Chorus:
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Verse 2:
God in my hoping
There in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting
God in my laughing
There in my weeping
God in my hurting
God in my healing
Bridge:
Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
You are everything
Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
Be my everything
Tim Hughes
God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping
God in my resting
There in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking
Chorus:
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Verse 2:
God in my hoping
There in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting
God in my laughing
There in my weeping
God in my hurting
God in my healing
Bridge:
Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
You are everything
Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
Be my everything
Thinking
Haven't blogged in a long time.
It's been a busy few weeks. Finally have a few days off and it feels fantastic to not have to be somewhere (ok... that somewhere is mostly at work)
In the last month, I've done lots of travelling, lots of contemplating, learning, growing.
Was in Dublin at the end of May for an acute medicine course. The course was actually really good. Very succinct, yet not too intense. Don't think anyone really wants to hear about the details of what I learnt about the best management of meningitis though. I did however experience something that I realised at that very time was a first. Well, I really only went to Dublin for the course. Arrived at the hotel about 12.30am on Monday morning and the course was due to start at 9.30am. As I got ready for bed, it hit me... Before that night, I had never stayed in a hotel room alone before. It was very strange. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep. Did some thinking instead... the details of which are a little to close to my heart to blog.
Anyway, got back from the course on Tues night and left for Cardiff on Wed for W's wedding. Ahh... spent about 5 days there helping with wedding preparations, then there was the actual wedding. It was a trip that left me with lots and lots of thoughts. I was pretty sleep-deprived at the end of it, having stayed up quite a few of the nights chatting with my fellow bridesmaids. As I caught the flight back to Glasgow early Monday morning, I was really exhausted. Despite this, my mind was racing. I'd come to see what really mattered to me, what and who I'd taken for granted, what I wanted to change, how I want to lead my life...
It all sounds a little wishy-washy, but there's just so much that is in the form of "feelings and emotions" that it is hard to express. Furthermore, it may involve describing events or situations which might step on some toes...
------------------------------------------------------------------
Anyway, after all the running between dublin, glasgow, cardiff, southampton etc, I returned to Glasgow and it was "payback time". It was work, work and more work. I'm sure no one really wants to hear more about that...
------------------------------------------------------------------
Then there's the whole job saga. I wasn't offered anything during the initial round 1 offers. (the whole job application process in the UK is just too complicated to explain... all I can say is that it's far from organised and far from humane) Was resigned to having to apply for round 2 and do some locums from august... was even thinking of going travelling, doing missions work... it was all part of the "Why should I conform... I'll just go do all the things I've always wanted to do" phase.
Well, as I was trying to make changes to my CV before printing it out and sending my 2nd application for round 2, an email came in. Looked like one from the job people. I've learnt by now not to get my hopes up cos repeated disappointment still stings (and you thought I'd be completely numb by now). Opened the email and to my disbelief, it was an offer of a 1 year post in London/KSS. I was elated to have a job to go to in August. Given the current job situation, jobs are like gems... (it's sad I know) Then it started to set in... that in 6 weeks, I'm going to have to relocate across the country. I still don't know where in London or Kent or Surrey or Sussex I'll be working in or what the post entails. All I know is that I'll have to leave Glasgow.
It's been 8 years, a good 8 years. I still remember the time when I flew up from Cambridge to Glasgow for the medical school interview. It couldn't have gone more wrong. I'd left my lugguage on the conveyor belt and had to tell the bus driver to let me off so I could go collect my lugguage. Then getting in a cab from the bus station and it took me to the wrong place. And being told by the accommodation people that my interview venue was a 15 minute walk away. (I later stayed at that same student accommodation in my first year and realised that even when you walk that same route everyday at "Singapore+daughter-of-a-i-don't-wait-for-you-mother" pace, you won't make it there in 15 minutes) Needless to say I was late for my interview. Thankfully, the interviews were running late. The weather was to-die-for- a shade of winter grey with persistent drizzle and bone-biting chill. I told myself that Glasgow would be my last choice of Universities. Well well... guess what, I've lived in this "last choice" place for 8 years and have absolutely loved every bit of it. I've seen in these years how faithful my God has been and how even when my human mind cannot see beyond the blanket of grey, the light always breaks through. Once again, the joy is in the journey :)
So dear Glasgow, it looks like our 8 years is nearly over and it's time I bid farewell. I'll visit, promise!
God's been faithful and will remain faithful... "I must trust, I must trust... and believe that I can trust...."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
More to come...
It's been a busy few weeks. Finally have a few days off and it feels fantastic to not have to be somewhere (ok... that somewhere is mostly at work)
In the last month, I've done lots of travelling, lots of contemplating, learning, growing.
Was in Dublin at the end of May for an acute medicine course. The course was actually really good. Very succinct, yet not too intense. Don't think anyone really wants to hear about the details of what I learnt about the best management of meningitis though. I did however experience something that I realised at that very time was a first. Well, I really only went to Dublin for the course. Arrived at the hotel about 12.30am on Monday morning and the course was due to start at 9.30am. As I got ready for bed, it hit me... Before that night, I had never stayed in a hotel room alone before. It was very strange. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep. Did some thinking instead... the details of which are a little to close to my heart to blog.
Anyway, got back from the course on Tues night and left for Cardiff on Wed for W's wedding. Ahh... spent about 5 days there helping with wedding preparations, then there was the actual wedding. It was a trip that left me with lots and lots of thoughts. I was pretty sleep-deprived at the end of it, having stayed up quite a few of the nights chatting with my fellow bridesmaids. As I caught the flight back to Glasgow early Monday morning, I was really exhausted. Despite this, my mind was racing. I'd come to see what really mattered to me, what and who I'd taken for granted, what I wanted to change, how I want to lead my life...
It all sounds a little wishy-washy, but there's just so much that is in the form of "feelings and emotions" that it is hard to express. Furthermore, it may involve describing events or situations which might step on some toes...
------------------------------------------------------------------
Anyway, after all the running between dublin, glasgow, cardiff, southampton etc, I returned to Glasgow and it was "payback time". It was work, work and more work. I'm sure no one really wants to hear more about that...
------------------------------------------------------------------
Then there's the whole job saga. I wasn't offered anything during the initial round 1 offers. (the whole job application process in the UK is just too complicated to explain... all I can say is that it's far from organised and far from humane) Was resigned to having to apply for round 2 and do some locums from august... was even thinking of going travelling, doing missions work... it was all part of the "Why should I conform... I'll just go do all the things I've always wanted to do" phase.
Well, as I was trying to make changes to my CV before printing it out and sending my 2nd application for round 2, an email came in. Looked like one from the job people. I've learnt by now not to get my hopes up cos repeated disappointment still stings (and you thought I'd be completely numb by now). Opened the email and to my disbelief, it was an offer of a 1 year post in London/KSS. I was elated to have a job to go to in August. Given the current job situation, jobs are like gems... (it's sad I know) Then it started to set in... that in 6 weeks, I'm going to have to relocate across the country. I still don't know where in London or Kent or Surrey or Sussex I'll be working in or what the post entails. All I know is that I'll have to leave Glasgow.
It's been 8 years, a good 8 years. I still remember the time when I flew up from Cambridge to Glasgow for the medical school interview. It couldn't have gone more wrong. I'd left my lugguage on the conveyor belt and had to tell the bus driver to let me off so I could go collect my lugguage. Then getting in a cab from the bus station and it took me to the wrong place. And being told by the accommodation people that my interview venue was a 15 minute walk away. (I later stayed at that same student accommodation in my first year and realised that even when you walk that same route everyday at "Singapore+daughter-of-a-i-don't-wait-for-you-mother" pace, you won't make it there in 15 minutes) Needless to say I was late for my interview. Thankfully, the interviews were running late. The weather was to-die-for- a shade of winter grey with persistent drizzle and bone-biting chill. I told myself that Glasgow would be my last choice of Universities. Well well... guess what, I've lived in this "last choice" place for 8 years and have absolutely loved every bit of it. I've seen in these years how faithful my God has been and how even when my human mind cannot see beyond the blanket of grey, the light always breaks through. Once again, the joy is in the journey :)
So dear Glasgow, it looks like our 8 years is nearly over and it's time I bid farewell. I'll visit, promise!
God's been faithful and will remain faithful... "I must trust, I must trust... and believe that I can trust...."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
More to come...
Saturday, May 26, 2007
The weather
How British! The weather. It features in nearly every conversation, it influences peoples' moods, it determines how many intoxicated patients will present at the ED...
Ah, but bad weather. Bad weather just seems to follow me! Seriously! Whenever I'm off, the weather's crap and when I'm working, it's nice! I'm not exaggerating!
And yes, whenever I'm away on holiday, the weather will be great till the day before I arrive, then it'll pour till the day I leave... then it'll be sunny again!
It'll be sunny tomorrow... cos I'm working...
Ah, but bad weather. Bad weather just seems to follow me! Seriously! Whenever I'm off, the weather's crap and when I'm working, it's nice! I'm not exaggerating!
And yes, whenever I'm away on holiday, the weather will be great till the day before I arrive, then it'll pour till the day I leave... then it'll be sunny again!
It'll be sunny tomorrow... cos I'm working...
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