Wednesday, November 26, 2003
Flightey Moments.
I sat in the shuttle bus, slumped against the window, trying my darnest to avoid the cigerette smoke wafting towards me from the driver's seat. The blasted wind was messing up my hair, which i had combed carefully, in an attempt to allay my mom's fears that her daughter didn't care much for appearence ( which unfortunately was the truth). The driver was rattling off some senselss drivel to keep himself entertained.
" Which flight are you taking?" the bus driver asked.
" Aussie air," yelled the two ladies behind me.
" Virgin," muttered the one beside me.
" How many virgins do we have?" the bus driver asked absentmindedly.
THe minibus was suddenly filled with giggles as it dawned on everyone what the question implicated.
" All of us," I added cheekily.
Well, maybe he took me seriously or smth, but we ended up stopping outside domestic flights, leaving me and another girl to struggle a long way back to the international flights terminus. The girl looked terribly flustered, trying her darnest to find a way to carry her bags.
" It's my first time travelling back alone," she told me as i nodded sympathetically. It's always hardest on the first time. I showed her the msian flight desk, then turned my attention on the singapore desk. It looked hopeless. The man at the desk told me it didn't look reassuring. I had to come back at 4.30pm to see if there were any seats.
I bought my self hot choc and a cookie and settled in gloria jean's coffee to read my book. But i was too jumpy. I prayed hard to get a seat onboard. I didn't wanna be stuck at melbouren airport till 12am. After stoning at the cafe till 4.30pm, I hung around the SIA counter, shooting pleading, furtive glances at the ground staff. Another family was encamped a few steps away from me, also on standby. I kept exchanging terse glances with the young mother. It was one or the other. One of us standbys won't be going home on that flight. I put my head in my hands, the stress of the wait and the preceding days was starting to sink in.
After an agonising wait, they finally started to close the counter. I struck up a conversation with a ground engineer also on standby. THe guy behind the counter beckoned to the family.
" Mommy, did we get the seat?" the boy piped in.
His mother shot a glance at me, and nodded. I probably had a very stricken expression on my face. Her husband was obviously less senior a pilot than my dad and i should get the priority. Determination fuelled by desperation steeled me to march to the counter to demand a seat. I was too frazzled to indulge in the small celebration that was taking place behind me. I just wanted to get home.
But thankfully, there was no need for them. THe guy at the counter trust a ticket into my hands before I could open my mouth and waved me to the nearest departure gate. I glanced at my watch. 20 minutes to spare! Grabbing my laptop and running awkwardly, i raced to the nearest immigration point.
It was only when I was safely in my seat that I relaxed. It's been quite a while since i had ridden economy and I thanked the boddhisatvas that there was a seat available. A chinese couple squeezed across to occupy the seats beside me. Just as the captain made his welcome announcement and the plane started to inch it's way backwards, the gal next to me told her boyfriend in chinese.. " .. did you recall to switch your handphone off..."
I leaped up, startling the hell out of my neighbours and pulled open the baggage compartment. Oh.. the woes of being vertically challenging. i engaged in a full minute of leapfrogging before I managed to get a hold on my bag, turn off the offending device and shove my stuff back in .
It was an uneventful flight, punctuated by the flight stewardess dispensing hot towels in the manner one dispenses frisbees. ONe had to admire her skill as she sent towel after towel whizzing through the air.The stress was really eating me, or rather eating the mucosa of my stomach. Already the stress from the housing problems had triggered off a 3 day gastric attack, the events occurring today were doing nothing to improve my upset stomach. I was too lazy to engage in other period of jumping crazily up and down to get stuff from my bag, but my stomach told me otherwise. Steeling myself for the amused gazes of the other passengers, I reluctantly retrieved my antiacids. Oh, how i wanted the flight to be over. After half an hour of major discomfort, the antiacids managed to coax the pain into a dull ache which was slightly more bearable. I started to read my novel again. THe gruesome acts described in it horrified me to a point where I visably cringed,. Depressing, way too depressing, I shifted my attention to th einflight movie and ended up chortling at the hilarious comedy. At this point, my neighbours were seriously considering opening the nearest emergency exit and shoving me outside.
After what seemed like eons, we landed in Singapore. I watched the familiar runway appear outside the window and sighed contentedly. My worries dissolved as I took in the comforting sights. I was finally home.
I sat in the shuttle bus, slumped against the window, trying my darnest to avoid the cigerette smoke wafting towards me from the driver's seat. The blasted wind was messing up my hair, which i had combed carefully, in an attempt to allay my mom's fears that her daughter didn't care much for appearence ( which unfortunately was the truth). The driver was rattling off some senselss drivel to keep himself entertained.
" Which flight are you taking?" the bus driver asked.
" Aussie air," yelled the two ladies behind me.
" Virgin," muttered the one beside me.
" How many virgins do we have?" the bus driver asked absentmindedly.
THe minibus was suddenly filled with giggles as it dawned on everyone what the question implicated.
" All of us," I added cheekily.
Well, maybe he took me seriously or smth, but we ended up stopping outside domestic flights, leaving me and another girl to struggle a long way back to the international flights terminus. The girl looked terribly flustered, trying her darnest to find a way to carry her bags.
" It's my first time travelling back alone," she told me as i nodded sympathetically. It's always hardest on the first time. I showed her the msian flight desk, then turned my attention on the singapore desk. It looked hopeless. The man at the desk told me it didn't look reassuring. I had to come back at 4.30pm to see if there were any seats.
I bought my self hot choc and a cookie and settled in gloria jean's coffee to read my book. But i was too jumpy. I prayed hard to get a seat onboard. I didn't wanna be stuck at melbouren airport till 12am. After stoning at the cafe till 4.30pm, I hung around the SIA counter, shooting pleading, furtive glances at the ground staff. Another family was encamped a few steps away from me, also on standby. I kept exchanging terse glances with the young mother. It was one or the other. One of us standbys won't be going home on that flight. I put my head in my hands, the stress of the wait and the preceding days was starting to sink in.
After an agonising wait, they finally started to close the counter. I struck up a conversation with a ground engineer also on standby. THe guy behind the counter beckoned to the family.
" Mommy, did we get the seat?" the boy piped in.
His mother shot a glance at me, and nodded. I probably had a very stricken expression on my face. Her husband was obviously less senior a pilot than my dad and i should get the priority. Determination fuelled by desperation steeled me to march to the counter to demand a seat. I was too frazzled to indulge in the small celebration that was taking place behind me. I just wanted to get home.
But thankfully, there was no need for them. THe guy at the counter trust a ticket into my hands before I could open my mouth and waved me to the nearest departure gate. I glanced at my watch. 20 minutes to spare! Grabbing my laptop and running awkwardly, i raced to the nearest immigration point.
It was only when I was safely in my seat that I relaxed. It's been quite a while since i had ridden economy and I thanked the boddhisatvas that there was a seat available. A chinese couple squeezed across to occupy the seats beside me. Just as the captain made his welcome announcement and the plane started to inch it's way backwards, the gal next to me told her boyfriend in chinese.. " .. did you recall to switch your handphone off..."
I leaped up, startling the hell out of my neighbours and pulled open the baggage compartment. Oh.. the woes of being vertically challenging. i engaged in a full minute of leapfrogging before I managed to get a hold on my bag, turn off the offending device and shove my stuff back in .
It was an uneventful flight, punctuated by the flight stewardess dispensing hot towels in the manner one dispenses frisbees. ONe had to admire her skill as she sent towel after towel whizzing through the air.The stress was really eating me, or rather eating the mucosa of my stomach. Already the stress from the housing problems had triggered off a 3 day gastric attack, the events occurring today were doing nothing to improve my upset stomach. I was too lazy to engage in other period of jumping crazily up and down to get stuff from my bag, but my stomach told me otherwise. Steeling myself for the amused gazes of the other passengers, I reluctantly retrieved my antiacids. Oh, how i wanted the flight to be over. After half an hour of major discomfort, the antiacids managed to coax the pain into a dull ache which was slightly more bearable. I started to read my novel again. THe gruesome acts described in it horrified me to a point where I visably cringed,. Depressing, way too depressing, I shifted my attention to th einflight movie and ended up chortling at the hilarious comedy. At this point, my neighbours were seriously considering opening the nearest emergency exit and shoving me outside.
After what seemed like eons, we landed in Singapore. I watched the familiar runway appear outside the window and sighed contentedly. My worries dissolved as I took in the comforting sights. I was finally home.
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Note b4 reading: there seems to be a prob with the page. i can't fix it. but to read the current post, click on any archive link, then reclick the "current post" link. coz right now, half my page seems to be cut off.
Moving
HH was in a stress mode. I recognised it the moment i entered her house. She had this half distracted, half stern look plastered on her visage, and she spoke in a tersed tone. After hauling down box after box to the basement, a couple of us followed S to move HH's stuff into her new place. HH took one look at me as I slumped against the wall listlessly and suggested that i stayed back to look after the house.
I sat on the floor and glanced sadly round her room, now deviod of anything save for her writing desk and a chair. This was supposed to be my room the following year. Oh the irony of it all! To be sitting in a place you couldn't have. I ran my fingers over her guitar strings and played "if".
If only...
Je bounced into the room, startling me out of my reveire.
" MIne!!! Her place is so big! She's so lucky!"
I gave a weak smile and trudged out of the room into the hallway. I stopped outside her housemate's door. Even after what she had done, I had no more capacity to rage at her. I was so tired. Anger had drained every ounce of strength that i had.
I followed Je to Js' car down in the garage and loaded the last of HH's stuff which was going to my place, where she would be taking up temporary residence. HH appeared a couple of minutes later and collapsed in the back seat.
" it's all over!" she gasped. " I'm so glad it's over."
Je dropped us at my place where we hauled up HH's luggage into my room, which was already full of boxes. All packed up and nowwhere to go.
Moving
HH was in a stress mode. I recognised it the moment i entered her house. She had this half distracted, half stern look plastered on her visage, and she spoke in a tersed tone. After hauling down box after box to the basement, a couple of us followed S to move HH's stuff into her new place. HH took one look at me as I slumped against the wall listlessly and suggested that i stayed back to look after the house.
I sat on the floor and glanced sadly round her room, now deviod of anything save for her writing desk and a chair. This was supposed to be my room the following year. Oh the irony of it all! To be sitting in a place you couldn't have. I ran my fingers over her guitar strings and played "if".
If only...
Je bounced into the room, startling me out of my reveire.
" MIne!!! Her place is so big! She's so lucky!"
I gave a weak smile and trudged out of the room into the hallway. I stopped outside her housemate's door. Even after what she had done, I had no more capacity to rage at her. I was so tired. Anger had drained every ounce of strength that i had.
I followed Je to Js' car down in the garage and loaded the last of HH's stuff which was going to my place, where she would be taking up temporary residence. HH appeared a couple of minutes later and collapsed in the back seat.
" it's all over!" she gasped. " I'm so glad it's over."
Je dropped us at my place where we hauled up HH's luggage into my room, which was already full of boxes. All packed up and nowwhere to go.
Saturday, November 22, 2003
I never knew i had the capability of being so furious but if there was one thing i was aware of, it would be that i was a sight to behold. I was sitting in the recreational room, yelling and crying into the public phone, letting loose a stream of vocab which i never knew i possessed. I think my parents, who were on the receiving end, were probably wondering what their daughter was picking up in melbourne.
I had no idea so unreasonable a person could exist in this world. But if she was intent on ruining everyone's plans, she sure suceeded, even if it meant her losing out a substantial amount of money. J, HH and I were astounded when we heard of her actions. HH spent the day walking around optus oval in a dazed rage, while i paced about in my room in a fine fit.
It all started with a scatter brained housing agent and a huge misunderstanding between HH and R, her housemate. R thought that the rest of us were going behind her back and trying to end Hh and her lease early. Even after the housing agent explained the misundertstanding and HH tried to convince her that that was never our intention in the first place, she hit back spitefully, threatening to find another person to take over her lease immediately so that J and I would never be able to get hold of the place next year. I knew that HH and R's relationship had long been on the rocks and that the two girls disliked each other immensely. But i just couldn't see how a girl could chose a course of action which was of no benefit to anyone and that the only thing she was going to get out of it was the pleasure of watching us suffer.
So sitting amidst my packed boxes, i had to call J and tell her that we had to cancel moving day. I never felt so helpless and angry in my life. When the anger had frizzled out, v I wandered around my apartment feeling terribly drained and numb, i started to plan my next move. Life just wasn't as plain sailing as i'd like it to be and there would always be assholes in the world, sitting like a thorn in your flesh, oozing of bad karma. If i continued to rage, she would have won the game, for that was all she was after.
Her actions will return to haunt her in the laws of cause and effect.The fool, standing alone on a battlefield, yelling at the people who offer a treaty. It's too late for her to back down, and she'll see this through to the end but she'll walk away with nothing.
J and i have to return very early next year to look for a new place .It's such a waste, a beautiful plan and place gone just because of a spiteful bitch who has a fucked up, warped way of exacting her revenge.
I had no idea so unreasonable a person could exist in this world. But if she was intent on ruining everyone's plans, she sure suceeded, even if it meant her losing out a substantial amount of money. J, HH and I were astounded when we heard of her actions. HH spent the day walking around optus oval in a dazed rage, while i paced about in my room in a fine fit.
It all started with a scatter brained housing agent and a huge misunderstanding between HH and R, her housemate. R thought that the rest of us were going behind her back and trying to end Hh and her lease early. Even after the housing agent explained the misundertstanding and HH tried to convince her that that was never our intention in the first place, she hit back spitefully, threatening to find another person to take over her lease immediately so that J and I would never be able to get hold of the place next year. I knew that HH and R's relationship had long been on the rocks and that the two girls disliked each other immensely. But i just couldn't see how a girl could chose a course of action which was of no benefit to anyone and that the only thing she was going to get out of it was the pleasure of watching us suffer.
So sitting amidst my packed boxes, i had to call J and tell her that we had to cancel moving day. I never felt so helpless and angry in my life. When the anger had frizzled out, v I wandered around my apartment feeling terribly drained and numb, i started to plan my next move. Life just wasn't as plain sailing as i'd like it to be and there would always be assholes in the world, sitting like a thorn in your flesh, oozing of bad karma. If i continued to rage, she would have won the game, for that was all she was after.
Her actions will return to haunt her in the laws of cause and effect.The fool, standing alone on a battlefield, yelling at the people who offer a treaty. It's too late for her to back down, and she'll see this through to the end but she'll walk away with nothing.
J and i have to return very early next year to look for a new place .It's such a waste, a beautiful plan and place gone just because of a spiteful bitch who has a fucked up, warped way of exacting her revenge.
Monday, November 17, 2003
A class of our own
I spent the afternoon wondering around aimlessly with mumsg to an elusive beach in williamstown. What a disappointment when we got there! It was pathetic little nip into the coast line with sand that was chokeful with glass and broken shells. We stood there wondering who had told us the place was a true gem. Grrrrrr.. Wait till i get my hands on edision and kenneth.
I made it back in time to go to safeway and kidnap more boxes to prepare for moving day. I think i must be a familiar sight there now, preying on salesmen who were unpacking their stuff. Ready to swoop in for the kill after they were done with the cartons.
I took the tram up to lygon st. to meet my pbl class. Pbl stands for problem based learning. Basically we are given a medical case at the beginning of each week and we have to research and solve it as a group on friday. How much you learn depends on how much you and your group are willing to contribute, and i was really fortunate to have an enthusiastic group who cared about each other's learning curve and worked together perfectly. We all decided to end the ( like w would say) Sensational( !) semester with a celebratory dinner.
We arrived in the order we usually did for lessons which was highly amusing. Dinner started off with rounds of pizza and wine. Even tho' most of the conversation we had had till then were centered on medical cases, we easily slipped into a riotuous, jovial course. W took the centerstage to tell us he was going to get hitched in 18 months time. Soon he was spilling out how he proposed to his fiancee, which was incredibly romantic. A too told us about her beau and soon we were all spilling out our love lives, or for a good half of us , the lack of it. " Doing a mechanism of our love lives," RH joked, referring to our pbl process of drawing out mechanisms of how the med cases occurred.
I shook my head on A's questioning, along with J and most of the undergrads when asked about our better half. " J" W said wryly. " Is HOT property." We all laughed as J tried to hide under the table. " serious!" W continued with a wicked grin. " You should have her at the ball, she was HOT property... And SK," he drawled, turning to SK next to him. " Is a DANCE machine."
The post grads just had so much more in life than us. They had gone thru so much more and it was incredible listening to their experiences. A told us her ambition of intergrating chiropractice and med. W told us that he loved physio but wanted to learn more about the human body than just pure anatomy. We talked and gossiped for a good two hours until the waiters were on the verge of chasing us off. And so ended the lovely evening with a photo that just couldn't do justice in embracing the wonderful times we had spent together as a class. It was the first class I ever truly regretted having to leave. We loitered outside papa gino's , none of us wanting to take the step that would spell the parting of this group forever, for it was a group that was truly a class of its own.
I spent the afternoon wondering around aimlessly with mumsg to an elusive beach in williamstown. What a disappointment when we got there! It was pathetic little nip into the coast line with sand that was chokeful with glass and broken shells. We stood there wondering who had told us the place was a true gem. Grrrrrr.. Wait till i get my hands on edision and kenneth.
I made it back in time to go to safeway and kidnap more boxes to prepare for moving day. I think i must be a familiar sight there now, preying on salesmen who were unpacking their stuff. Ready to swoop in for the kill after they were done with the cartons.
I took the tram up to lygon st. to meet my pbl class. Pbl stands for problem based learning. Basically we are given a medical case at the beginning of each week and we have to research and solve it as a group on friday. How much you learn depends on how much you and your group are willing to contribute, and i was really fortunate to have an enthusiastic group who cared about each other's learning curve and worked together perfectly. We all decided to end the ( like w would say) Sensational( !) semester with a celebratory dinner.
We arrived in the order we usually did for lessons which was highly amusing. Dinner started off with rounds of pizza and wine. Even tho' most of the conversation we had had till then were centered on medical cases, we easily slipped into a riotuous, jovial course. W took the centerstage to tell us he was going to get hitched in 18 months time. Soon he was spilling out how he proposed to his fiancee, which was incredibly romantic. A too told us about her beau and soon we were all spilling out our love lives, or for a good half of us , the lack of it. " Doing a mechanism of our love lives," RH joked, referring to our pbl process of drawing out mechanisms of how the med cases occurred.
I shook my head on A's questioning, along with J and most of the undergrads when asked about our better half. " J" W said wryly. " Is HOT property." We all laughed as J tried to hide under the table. " serious!" W continued with a wicked grin. " You should have her at the ball, she was HOT property... And SK," he drawled, turning to SK next to him. " Is a DANCE machine."
The post grads just had so much more in life than us. They had gone thru so much more and it was incredible listening to their experiences. A told us her ambition of intergrating chiropractice and med. W told us that he loved physio but wanted to learn more about the human body than just pure anatomy. We talked and gossiped for a good two hours until the waiters were on the verge of chasing us off. And so ended the lovely evening with a photo that just couldn't do justice in embracing the wonderful times we had spent together as a class. It was the first class I ever truly regretted having to leave. We loitered outside papa gino's , none of us wanting to take the step that would spell the parting of this group forever, for it was a group that was truly a class of its own.
Post Exam bliss
My concentration had gone whoop whoop . Reason had deserted me. I was on the shopping warpath in chadstone. Alright, I admit. It's just the post exam syndrome... RETAIL THERAPHY is the word. THe pract paper ( which was spent zooming from one station to another ) spelt a certain doom both for my sanity and my physical form as I nearly hurtled smack into a pillar while I tried to change station with my eyes glued to the exam paper. but hell, i'd no idea what that mess in the microscope was supposed to be, it could have been anything from carcinoma to the purple blob that ate christmas, i still couldn't tell the diff.
Mumsg gang decided to go yum cha in Doncaster. So we boarded a stuffy old bus, equipped with everything from dysfunctional windows to a bus driver who was clearly the Grinch in an alternate disguise. For the uninitiated, melbourne's bus drivers are to put it mildly, total bastards with an attitude to boot. We once ended up in the middle of nowwhere just because we were too terrified to ask the bus driver if that was the correct route, so appreciate the singapore transport system.
It was a balmy day. No wrong. It was a furnace. We stumbled in the heat to the cool welcoming air coned env of the restaurant. ANd so went the usual lunch where we stuffed ourselves silly. the food was n't that great but the company was good. When our lateral hypothalamus finally gave up, we stepped reluctantly out into the blazing heat and waited for the next bus to take us to boxhill.
It was pure torture. I felt like a charsiew bao been left to languish on the grill. To make matters worse, the bus seemed to take great pleasures in getting caught in the traffic. I was wishing fervently for an air con to be conjured out of nowwhere. Ok, fine. I made a vow to worship the air conditioner when i got to the mall.
Boxhill was a place I'd only seen at night when W took me out dinner. Too bad we couldn't stop to try the fantastic food one more time. But we did go on a rampage in the mall. or rather we tried to. IT was just too darn hot. I purchase a cute little white bag for ten bucks.
Then we took the bus ( oh joy) to chadstone. Another torturous ride through the winding roads of the sub urban estates and i was ready to climb onto the roof and do a mad jig in my dillirium. LZ kept telling me she was nice and hot and ready to eat. But i just couldn't get past the glistening finishing.
Ah.. chadstone, the mecca of shopping in melbourne. A huge labyrinth of shops almost equivalent to suntec and basically, a shopper's dream. Sweating, glazed over and just extremely tired, we started on our conquest to cover the place. After trying on a mini skirt dozens of times, I walked around jay jays contemplating on whether to bust my wallet. In the end I returned, sheepishly taking the skirt from the amused salesgal. Purchased a halter from jay jays too. We had dinner at chadstone. To our utmost surprise, nic didn't buy A THING. OMG, someone call the guiness book of world records. Well, it was certainly a rare occurrance. I was quite happy with my purchases, albeit a little guilty of spending 50 bux on them.
And so ended the day which also marked the start of post exam madness.
My concentration had gone whoop whoop . Reason had deserted me. I was on the shopping warpath in chadstone. Alright, I admit. It's just the post exam syndrome... RETAIL THERAPHY is the word. THe pract paper ( which was spent zooming from one station to another ) spelt a certain doom both for my sanity and my physical form as I nearly hurtled smack into a pillar while I tried to change station with my eyes glued to the exam paper. but hell, i'd no idea what that mess in the microscope was supposed to be, it could have been anything from carcinoma to the purple blob that ate christmas, i still couldn't tell the diff.
Mumsg gang decided to go yum cha in Doncaster. So we boarded a stuffy old bus, equipped with everything from dysfunctional windows to a bus driver who was clearly the Grinch in an alternate disguise. For the uninitiated, melbourne's bus drivers are to put it mildly, total bastards with an attitude to boot. We once ended up in the middle of nowwhere just because we were too terrified to ask the bus driver if that was the correct route, so appreciate the singapore transport system.
It was a balmy day. No wrong. It was a furnace. We stumbled in the heat to the cool welcoming air coned env of the restaurant. ANd so went the usual lunch where we stuffed ourselves silly. the food was n't that great but the company was good. When our lateral hypothalamus finally gave up, we stepped reluctantly out into the blazing heat and waited for the next bus to take us to boxhill.
It was pure torture. I felt like a charsiew bao been left to languish on the grill. To make matters worse, the bus seemed to take great pleasures in getting caught in the traffic. I was wishing fervently for an air con to be conjured out of nowwhere. Ok, fine. I made a vow to worship the air conditioner when i got to the mall.
Boxhill was a place I'd only seen at night when W took me out dinner. Too bad we couldn't stop to try the fantastic food one more time. But we did go on a rampage in the mall. or rather we tried to. IT was just too darn hot. I purchase a cute little white bag for ten bucks.
Then we took the bus ( oh joy) to chadstone. Another torturous ride through the winding roads of the sub urban estates and i was ready to climb onto the roof and do a mad jig in my dillirium. LZ kept telling me she was nice and hot and ready to eat. But i just couldn't get past the glistening finishing.
Ah.. chadstone, the mecca of shopping in melbourne. A huge labyrinth of shops almost equivalent to suntec and basically, a shopper's dream. Sweating, glazed over and just extremely tired, we started on our conquest to cover the place. After trying on a mini skirt dozens of times, I walked around jay jays contemplating on whether to bust my wallet. In the end I returned, sheepishly taking the skirt from the amused salesgal. Purchased a halter from jay jays too. We had dinner at chadstone. To our utmost surprise, nic didn't buy A THING. OMG, someone call the guiness book of world records. Well, it was certainly a rare occurrance. I was quite happy with my purchases, albeit a little guilty of spending 50 bux on them.
And so ended the day which also marked the start of post exam madness.
Thursday, November 13, 2003
AN earful of trouble
( HH said the title " that sticky feeling' had rather bad connotations. And taking into consideration she's studying repro, i think it was better if I changed it : ) )
Well, one day to go before my pract exam. I made my way down to the student health services to get my ears fixed. Well, it all started on Sunday when i was trying to block out the annoying giggles from the other library regulars by stufffing my ears with ear plugs ( albeit rather old and worn out ones). No thanks to my incredibly sensitive skin, my ear canal has been feeling rather dodgey ever since. In fact, everytime i pull a pressure manoveur by simply wrinkling my nose or yawning, my tymphanic membrane gave a disconcerting "pop", accompanied by an excruciating ear ache. To make matters worse, i've had to come home early from the library because the latest stabbing incident on campus has shattered any sense of secuirity i have after dark. My neighbours have been insisting on holding riotious parties into the wee hours of the morning and my ears plugs have become a neccessity. Last night was pure ridiculum. A pounding bass threatened to bring down the thin partition between our apartments at 12am in teh morning. I plugged my non aching ear and placed my pillow over my head trying to get some sleep. But I think the only way I could shut out the racket was if I smothered myself to death, and i still had 2 more exam papers to go.
" EASE OFF IT WILL YA????" I yelled.
A series of techno noises answered my irate cry. I threw off my bed clothes and stepped into the corridor, bleary eyed. one of my neighbours was standing in teh corridor, trying his darnest to talk into his handphone over the racket, which was kinda ridiculous since all he had to do was lower the blasted din. He watched me curiously as i stormed out into the lift lobby. As I reached the elevators, i paused. Maybe they did get the message. I crept back into the corridor and sure enough, the racket had ceased.
Sighing, I eased myself into my bed and fell into a deep sleep.
Then at 2am. the racket returned.
This guys just don't get it , do they? I cursed at them , stuffed back my ear plugs and tried to sleep.
" ear plugs?" the doctor peered at me as though he couldn't believe me.
I nodded, eyeing him equally quizzically.
" I think it's more of a cold, " the doc replied. " you've got a collection of mucus around your ear drum, chew some gum to get rid of it."
GUM??? As in stick it in my ear?
" No chew it,"
Oh.
" Do I need ear drops?" i asked.
The doc launched into some analogy of it raining outside his office and the window and flooding in his office.
huh??
" if it's raining outside and i opened an umbrella inside, would it make a difference?"
er.. no. His point exactly?
he continued talking about raining and flooding. Finallly, it dawned on me that the window was the tymphanic membrane and the office was my inner ear canal .
OH. Comprehendo.
It was a stupid analogy, but i didn't tell him so. Well, hope i don't get that doctor again. his tone of voice spelled out the words.. " WHAT A STUPID QUESTION." Sorry, but i've my patient beliefs, and i think it's the worst analogy i've heard in my life. good try tho'.
It's quite funny once you become a med student. You're practically scrutinizing the doctor's every move whe n you're in for a consultation. your clinical skills also do give you an outlet if you need an MC desperately. Equipped with the knowledge of what the doctor will and will not examine, you can confidently stride into the room and list an ailment like a migrane, and be almost certain that he wouldn't subject you to a cranial nerve examination. Thus, you get the MC coz Mr. Doctor can't really get the evidence that you're perfectly healthy. Hmm...
( HH said the title " that sticky feeling' had rather bad connotations. And taking into consideration she's studying repro, i think it was better if I changed it : ) )
Well, one day to go before my pract exam. I made my way down to the student health services to get my ears fixed. Well, it all started on Sunday when i was trying to block out the annoying giggles from the other library regulars by stufffing my ears with ear plugs ( albeit rather old and worn out ones). No thanks to my incredibly sensitive skin, my ear canal has been feeling rather dodgey ever since. In fact, everytime i pull a pressure manoveur by simply wrinkling my nose or yawning, my tymphanic membrane gave a disconcerting "pop", accompanied by an excruciating ear ache. To make matters worse, i've had to come home early from the library because the latest stabbing incident on campus has shattered any sense of secuirity i have after dark. My neighbours have been insisting on holding riotious parties into the wee hours of the morning and my ears plugs have become a neccessity. Last night was pure ridiculum. A pounding bass threatened to bring down the thin partition between our apartments at 12am in teh morning. I plugged my non aching ear and placed my pillow over my head trying to get some sleep. But I think the only way I could shut out the racket was if I smothered myself to death, and i still had 2 more exam papers to go.
" EASE OFF IT WILL YA????" I yelled.
A series of techno noises answered my irate cry. I threw off my bed clothes and stepped into the corridor, bleary eyed. one of my neighbours was standing in teh corridor, trying his darnest to talk into his handphone over the racket, which was kinda ridiculous since all he had to do was lower the blasted din. He watched me curiously as i stormed out into the lift lobby. As I reached the elevators, i paused. Maybe they did get the message. I crept back into the corridor and sure enough, the racket had ceased.
Sighing, I eased myself into my bed and fell into a deep sleep.
Then at 2am. the racket returned.
This guys just don't get it , do they? I cursed at them , stuffed back my ear plugs and tried to sleep.
" ear plugs?" the doctor peered at me as though he couldn't believe me.
I nodded, eyeing him equally quizzically.
" I think it's more of a cold, " the doc replied. " you've got a collection of mucus around your ear drum, chew some gum to get rid of it."
GUM??? As in stick it in my ear?
" No chew it,"
Oh.
" Do I need ear drops?" i asked.
The doc launched into some analogy of it raining outside his office and the window and flooding in his office.
huh??
" if it's raining outside and i opened an umbrella inside, would it make a difference?"
er.. no. His point exactly?
he continued talking about raining and flooding. Finallly, it dawned on me that the window was the tymphanic membrane and the office was my inner ear canal .
OH. Comprehendo.
It was a stupid analogy, but i didn't tell him so. Well, hope i don't get that doctor again. his tone of voice spelled out the words.. " WHAT A STUPID QUESTION." Sorry, but i've my patient beliefs, and i think it's the worst analogy i've heard in my life. good try tho'.
It's quite funny once you become a med student. You're practically scrutinizing the doctor's every move whe n you're in for a consultation. your clinical skills also do give you an outlet if you need an MC desperately. Equipped with the knowledge of what the doctor will and will not examine, you can confidently stride into the room and list an ailment like a migrane, and be almost certain that he wouldn't subject you to a cranial nerve examination. Thus, you get the MC coz Mr. Doctor can't really get the evidence that you're perfectly healthy. Hmm...
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
BEEP.. BEEPem>
I was enjoying a leisurely shower when I heard the insistent whine. I dismissed it has the beeping of a reversing truck and continued my shower, belting out a tuneless version of " Never been to me" while I gave my hair a good soap. The whine still persistant even after I had towelled off .Thoroughly irritated, I strode out, dripping water over my filthy carpet and tried to locate the source. I opened the door and the beeping halted. I shrugged and pulled on my washing gloves to finish off the laundry that had accumulated in my bucket. That's when I heard the wailing of a the fireengine. I peered outside my window to see the vehicle halt outside UCA. Must have been the next block on fire again , I mused as I pulled down the blinds. Maybe I would go down later to poke around.
hUmming, I hauled out my clothes and started to scrub them, but i couldn't ignore the naggin feeling that I should go down. SO i pulled on a jacket and took the elevator down. WHen teh door opened, I was greeting by a sea of incredulous faces in the lobby. Well, fine. so i was the only idiot who ignored the evacuation alarm. Edison and his girlfriend Melanie were highly amused as I siddled meekly and tried to hide behind them from the stares of the other residents.
On Ed's questioning, a sercuirity guard said that some guy was trying to cook smth and the stove blew up or smth. Er... i hope that's not true, otherwise i'm never gonna cook at my stove again. Well.. at least i know wat an evacuation alarm sounds like now ;)
Then the elevator doors opened and a bemused looking guy strode out into the lobby.
Well, at least I wasn't the last one out.
I was enjoying a leisurely shower when I heard the insistent whine. I dismissed it has the beeping of a reversing truck and continued my shower, belting out a tuneless version of " Never been to me" while I gave my hair a good soap. The whine still persistant even after I had towelled off .Thoroughly irritated, I strode out, dripping water over my filthy carpet and tried to locate the source. I opened the door and the beeping halted. I shrugged and pulled on my washing gloves to finish off the laundry that had accumulated in my bucket. That's when I heard the wailing of a the fireengine. I peered outside my window to see the vehicle halt outside UCA. Must have been the next block on fire again , I mused as I pulled down the blinds. Maybe I would go down later to poke around.
hUmming, I hauled out my clothes and started to scrub them, but i couldn't ignore the naggin feeling that I should go down. SO i pulled on a jacket and took the elevator down. WHen teh door opened, I was greeting by a sea of incredulous faces in the lobby. Well, fine. so i was the only idiot who ignored the evacuation alarm. Edison and his girlfriend Melanie were highly amused as I siddled meekly and tried to hide behind them from the stares of the other residents.
On Ed's questioning, a sercuirity guard said that some guy was trying to cook smth and the stove blew up or smth. Er... i hope that's not true, otherwise i'm never gonna cook at my stove again. Well.. at least i know wat an evacuation alarm sounds like now ;)
Then the elevator doors opened and a bemused looking guy strode out into the lobby.
Well, at least I wasn't the last one out.
buried alive in books... on my birthday.
It' was queer celebrating my birthday all by myself. All my life, i've been always surrounded by family and friends on this date, with a cake or even a party thrown in for good measure. THis year was different. I was miles away from sunny singapore, and oceans apart from my loved ones. The mUMsgang were really wonderful, amidst the frenzied studying for the exams, they managed to ambush me before i returned to hiding in the library on the last day of school and presented me with a delicious apple crumble cake baked by Nic. Unfortunately, my cake cutting skills leave a lot to be desired because the cake crumbled contemptously when i sunk the knife into it.
But that was Friday, on the day itself, I awoke to a grey cold morning with the plan to go to school and engage in another mind number marothon against time. Met HH down in town for lunch before we trudged miserably to the library. Basically, it kinda sucked. Like my sister said, you don't really appreciate what's there till it's gone. I recall fighting with my siblings in previous birthdays, birthday's that ended in tears, and others that were filled with riotous parties that turned the house upside down. Never before did I have to spend a birthday with a pile of textbooks. How i yearned to see my mom's face, to get lost in the riot of hugs and kisses from my family. To be serenaded by their tuneless rendition of Happy birthday, to see the mischievious grins of my siblings who allowed their don't careish veneers to be lifted on this special day and to openly admit their affection for me on this special day.
I sighed, fliipped the page of my lecture notes. The library was stiflingly crowded. I squirmed and tried to assume a more dignified pose , kicking AN ,who was sitting across the table, squarely in the shin during the process . It was too depressing for words. Here I was surrounded by people but feeling incredibly alone. HH had disappeared behind a pile of neurobooks in a carrell, and i was sitting with an acquintence from vet school and my friend An ,who was a closet stand up comedian by night and 4th year post grad med student by day. Then my phone buzzed, rudely startling me out of my reviere and prompting a series of frenzied shushes from An . I stuck my tongue at him and went for my handphone.
A few sms wishing me well on my birthday came in.
Thank goodness for my friends. the messages put a smile on my face, and left their simple message in my heart.
Suddenly, it all seemed easier to bear.
It' was queer celebrating my birthday all by myself. All my life, i've been always surrounded by family and friends on this date, with a cake or even a party thrown in for good measure. THis year was different. I was miles away from sunny singapore, and oceans apart from my loved ones. The mUMsgang were really wonderful, amidst the frenzied studying for the exams, they managed to ambush me before i returned to hiding in the library on the last day of school and presented me with a delicious apple crumble cake baked by Nic. Unfortunately, my cake cutting skills leave a lot to be desired because the cake crumbled contemptously when i sunk the knife into it.
But that was Friday, on the day itself, I awoke to a grey cold morning with the plan to go to school and engage in another mind number marothon against time. Met HH down in town for lunch before we trudged miserably to the library. Basically, it kinda sucked. Like my sister said, you don't really appreciate what's there till it's gone. I recall fighting with my siblings in previous birthdays, birthday's that ended in tears, and others that were filled with riotous parties that turned the house upside down. Never before did I have to spend a birthday with a pile of textbooks. How i yearned to see my mom's face, to get lost in the riot of hugs and kisses from my family. To be serenaded by their tuneless rendition of Happy birthday, to see the mischievious grins of my siblings who allowed their don't careish veneers to be lifted on this special day and to openly admit their affection for me on this special day.
I sighed, fliipped the page of my lecture notes. The library was stiflingly crowded. I squirmed and tried to assume a more dignified pose , kicking AN ,who was sitting across the table, squarely in the shin during the process . It was too depressing for words. Here I was surrounded by people but feeling incredibly alone. HH had disappeared behind a pile of neurobooks in a carrell, and i was sitting with an acquintence from vet school and my friend An ,who was a closet stand up comedian by night and 4th year post grad med student by day. Then my phone buzzed, rudely startling me out of my reviere and prompting a series of frenzied shushes from An . I stuck my tongue at him and went for my handphone.
A few sms wishing me well on my birthday came in.
Thank goodness for my friends. the messages put a smile on my face, and left their simple message in my heart.
Suddenly, it all seemed easier to bear.
Monday, November 10, 2003
The patient presents.
Subject is a 19year old chinese girl. Presents with cold clammy palms, unsteady gait, dilated pupils and pale skin. Does not respond when called.
Vital Stats
Blood pressure = 110/85 mmHG
Pulse rate = 130 beats/ min
Breathing rate = 18 /min
temperature = 37 degrees
Mental state examination: appears to be unaware of current affairs and seems unaware of surroundings.. keeps murmering something about abdominal viscera.
Abdominal examination = normal
Cardiovascular = normal
musculo skeletal = normal
History:
Patient seems unable to recall her name or her details. COmes into the clinic holding a wad of notes and a pathology textbook. Tells you that she spent 24/7 in the basement of a building called brownless.
CLinical Diagnosis = Exam fever.
seems surreal? Well, it's reality. THe examination rears is ugly head. It's been more than a month since I have taken up almost permanent residence in the library. The amount of information seems endless. My fren in singapore was chatting with me on ICq and he was like.. how are you enjoying life? We're dying over here in NUS med. Well, xcuuuuuuse me, what do i look like i'm on? A holiday in honolulu?
THe pile of information to commit to memory is absurdly enormous. One moment I recall it and the next, it's just filtered right through like a glomerulus subjected to Ig A nephropathy. Yez. just flushed right out. 3 hours paper today and my brain is absolutely fried. I was so freaked out when i saw the paper. It was incredibly stiff. I was shaking by the time i read the 1st few short answer questions. Groan. at this rate, i'm gonna screw so badly probably have to take subs in singapore. and no.. i don't mean subway.
Management goals:
to help patient comprehend that she should not cross the road when teh lights are red.
the help patient remember her name
The exams need to be over. NOW
Subject is a 19year old chinese girl. Presents with cold clammy palms, unsteady gait, dilated pupils and pale skin. Does not respond when called.
Vital Stats
Blood pressure = 110/85 mmHG
Pulse rate = 130 beats/ min
Breathing rate = 18 /min
temperature = 37 degrees
Mental state examination: appears to be unaware of current affairs and seems unaware of surroundings.. keeps murmering something about abdominal viscera.
Abdominal examination = normal
Cardiovascular = normal
musculo skeletal = normal
History:
Patient seems unable to recall her name or her details. COmes into the clinic holding a wad of notes and a pathology textbook. Tells you that she spent 24/7 in the basement of a building called brownless.
CLinical Diagnosis = Exam fever.
seems surreal? Well, it's reality. THe examination rears is ugly head. It's been more than a month since I have taken up almost permanent residence in the library. The amount of information seems endless. My fren in singapore was chatting with me on ICq and he was like.. how are you enjoying life? We're dying over here in NUS med. Well, xcuuuuuuse me, what do i look like i'm on? A holiday in honolulu?
THe pile of information to commit to memory is absurdly enormous. One moment I recall it and the next, it's just filtered right through like a glomerulus subjected to Ig A nephropathy. Yez. just flushed right out. 3 hours paper today and my brain is absolutely fried. I was so freaked out when i saw the paper. It was incredibly stiff. I was shaking by the time i read the 1st few short answer questions. Groan. at this rate, i'm gonna screw so badly probably have to take subs in singapore. and no.. i don't mean subway.
Management goals:
to help patient comprehend that she should not cross the road when teh lights are red.
the help patient remember her name
The exams need to be over. NOW
