Scorching fire, smoking flame
Heat that’s too harsh to take
Burning.. unburnt, shaken.. unhurt
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.
Mountain high, up in the sky
Free falling from millions of miles
Wings above, arms beneath
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.
River rushing, crazy and wild
Waves so high you can’t see them
Frantic flailing be still now
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.
Howling wind, rainy weather
Blizzard ripping your body apart
Peace, sweet peace, in the eye of the storm
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.
Empty house, hidden sorrow
Cold hand over fearful heart
Pair of comforting arms round you
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.
Running, fleeing, as fast as you can
Til exhausted, you collapse on the path
Did you think I’d ever stop waiting
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you
Lean back, let loose… Search Over.
I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you
And I ain’t, no I ain’t, letting go.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Trying to Get It Right
No, I didn't have a bad week. Sure, there was lots of cynicism, self-doubt, unnecessary guilt and plenty of noble resolutions, and that was only over the extra bag of crisps, so I'm not going to even start on the JOB.
Kidding.
One of the good things about having so much to do is that life comes down to the really simple, really important, really meaningful issues. Like eating. And sleeping. And maybe hygiene. And definitely God.
It's almost like I rediscovered Him through the accident of circumstances, only of course nothing is an accident where God is concerned. Easy enough to push Him to the peripheries when I was busy having fun, but He looms now in every thought, in every prayer, in every pitiful offering I manage to salvage from the brokenness that is now me.
Maybe, after all, that is what Paul meant when He wrote about Christ in us.
Christ in me, holding my hands steady as I nervously attempt a venflon on a particularly difficult patient, Christ in me as I struggle and sigh and wish I could have an anaesthetist beside me, Christ in me when I fail, Christ in me when I succeed.
Christ in me when I drag myself out of bed at the still-dark hour of 6:30am on a Monday morning, Christ in me as I cram in a hurried breakfast and pull on barely-ironed clothes, Christ in me as I stumble to work half-awake, Christ in me when I walk exhaustedly home way past dinner time.
Christ in me when yet someone else collapses on me, Christ in me when I'm rushing around trying to convince radiologists to scan ill people, Christ in me responding with grace when I'm getting an undeserved verbal bashing, Christ in me putting a smile on my face even when I really feel like yelling, or worse still, crying.
Christ in me when I question why I ever got into this in the first place, Christ in me when I lie awake wondering if this is how the rest of my life will be, Christ in me when those few-and-far-between incidents remind me how beautiful life can still be in the midst of pain.
Christ in me when the wonderful lady with the contagious laughter is sent home to die, Christ in me when I sign yet another cremation form, Christ in me when the surgery went well and the cancer is resectable, Christ in me when I laugh with my colleagues.
I'm not saying Christ isn't in me when I'm feeling spiritual at church or singing an inspiring song at cell group or reading a book on godly Christian missionaries. I'm just saying it's in these- the nitty-gritty, boring, mundane, insipid, unpleasant, unglamorous, unprofound moments of life that we sometimes REALISE what "the hope of glory" actually is.
It's hard to appreciate the immensity of a good thing unless one is faced with the starkness of its exact opposite. The imperfection of my world, of our world, of this world, increases my appetite for the perfection of the next.
And if you didn't get a word of that, fear not. Paul further says it's a Gloriously Rich Mystery.
Plus I tend to ramble. :)
Have a good week, all!
Kidding.
One of the good things about having so much to do is that life comes down to the really simple, really important, really meaningful issues. Like eating. And sleeping. And maybe hygiene. And definitely God.
It's almost like I rediscovered Him through the accident of circumstances, only of course nothing is an accident where God is concerned. Easy enough to push Him to the peripheries when I was busy having fun, but He looms now in every thought, in every prayer, in every pitiful offering I manage to salvage from the brokenness that is now me.
Maybe, after all, that is what Paul meant when He wrote about Christ in us.
Christ in me, holding my hands steady as I nervously attempt a venflon on a particularly difficult patient, Christ in me as I struggle and sigh and wish I could have an anaesthetist beside me, Christ in me when I fail, Christ in me when I succeed.
Christ in me when I drag myself out of bed at the still-dark hour of 6:30am on a Monday morning, Christ in me as I cram in a hurried breakfast and pull on barely-ironed clothes, Christ in me as I stumble to work half-awake, Christ in me when I walk exhaustedly home way past dinner time.
Christ in me when yet someone else collapses on me, Christ in me when I'm rushing around trying to convince radiologists to scan ill people, Christ in me responding with grace when I'm getting an undeserved verbal bashing, Christ in me putting a smile on my face even when I really feel like yelling, or worse still, crying.
Christ in me when I question why I ever got into this in the first place, Christ in me when I lie awake wondering if this is how the rest of my life will be, Christ in me when those few-and-far-between incidents remind me how beautiful life can still be in the midst of pain.
Christ in me when the wonderful lady with the contagious laughter is sent home to die, Christ in me when I sign yet another cremation form, Christ in me when the surgery went well and the cancer is resectable, Christ in me when I laugh with my colleagues.
I'm not saying Christ isn't in me when I'm feeling spiritual at church or singing an inspiring song at cell group or reading a book on godly Christian missionaries. I'm just saying it's in these- the nitty-gritty, boring, mundane, insipid, unpleasant, unglamorous, unprofound moments of life that we sometimes REALISE what "the hope of glory" actually is.
It's hard to appreciate the immensity of a good thing unless one is faced with the starkness of its exact opposite. The imperfection of my world, of our world, of this world, increases my appetite for the perfection of the next.
And if you didn't get a word of that, fear not. Paul further says it's a Gloriously Rich Mystery.
Plus I tend to ramble. :)
Have a good week, all!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Enjoying my weekend
The words "I've got this weekend off" take on a whole new meaning when one is working full-time on a General Surgical ward.
So yea, I've got this weekend off. :)
So far, I've chatted online, baked, cooked, went for CF, prepared stuff for a picnic, attended a picnic, watched a movie, phoned my friends and family, slept, surfed the Net, randomly replied some Facebook messages, and... blogged!
And because I don't want to turn this space into a perpetual rant on how sucky surgery is, I shall endeavour to avoid speaking about anything work-related. Yea, right. Haha.
I feel like I've learnt a whole lot more about myself, about people, and about life in these last 3 weeks than I have in the past 3 years probably.
I've done stuff I never knew I was capable of. Gone without lunch for 4 days consecutively, not sat down for a single break for an entire 14-hour work day, survived on less than 8 hours of sleep nightly for more than a week, worked non-stop for 11 days running... I'm no athlete and I absolutely HATE physical exertion, but being pushed to the limits of my endurance showed me that a lot of the time, my lethargy is self-imposed rather than natural. It's good to know that even a couch potato like myself has some reservoir of energy lying hidden somewhere to summon when the situation calls for it.
I've learnt a bit more about working styles and how to handle workplace relationships. It should be self-evident, but it's not until you properly start work that you realise how bitchy some nurses can be or how evil some seniors can be or how awful some patients can be etc etc etc. And obviously when you're the lone junior doctor covering a couple of wards on an off shift, you're gonna be picked on by the above-mentioned types. The one thing I haven't done although I was often sorely tempted to, was to repay in kind. Bad attitudes breed bad attitudes, but flaring tempers in an already-tense atmosphere only make the job that much harder. A simple "Thanks for pointing that out" or "I'm sorry I made that mistake" works surprisingly well to deflate an angry colleague/patient. But yea, keep a punching bag handy at home too. :)
Oh, and also because the whole of life was designed to be biased against us perfectionistic types, I've had to curb the tendency to obssess over trivial matters. The first few nights and days I was on, I'd bring my work home with me, in the form of endlessly rehashing what I had or had not done for who. Seriously, nothing you do will ever be enough, and you'll never get everything right, but then again, no one is expecting you to be anything but stupid at this level, so anything better than hopelessly dim-witted is a pleasant bonus. If I had to write a column for junior doctors with advice on how to be a good junior doctor, I'd say that the only requirement absolutely essential for being a junior doctor is possession of a good thick skin. You're the first person to be blamed if anything goes wrong, and the last person to get any credit when they go right. LIVE WITH IT. One day, hopefully sooner rather than later, you'll be the one calling the shots, so wait your turn. :)
Having said that, I've been pretty blessed by and large with lovely professional people working with me who understand the value of teamwork and good staff morale. Not everyone is a monster, and I honestly couldn't have survived the first 3 weeks without the help and advice of kind souls who tried their best to ease the transition from medical student to junior doctor for me and others in my position.
I have actually survived 3 weeks. Amazing.
Let's hope it gets easier from here.
Have a good week!
Edit: Also Happy Birthday Malaysia! :)
So yea, I've got this weekend off. :)
So far, I've chatted online, baked, cooked, went for CF, prepared stuff for a picnic, attended a picnic, watched a movie, phoned my friends and family, slept, surfed the Net, randomly replied some Facebook messages, and... blogged!
And because I don't want to turn this space into a perpetual rant on how sucky surgery is, I shall endeavour to avoid speaking about anything work-related. Yea, right. Haha.
I feel like I've learnt a whole lot more about myself, about people, and about life in these last 3 weeks than I have in the past 3 years probably.
I've done stuff I never knew I was capable of. Gone without lunch for 4 days consecutively, not sat down for a single break for an entire 14-hour work day, survived on less than 8 hours of sleep nightly for more than a week, worked non-stop for 11 days running... I'm no athlete and I absolutely HATE physical exertion, but being pushed to the limits of my endurance showed me that a lot of the time, my lethargy is self-imposed rather than natural. It's good to know that even a couch potato like myself has some reservoir of energy lying hidden somewhere to summon when the situation calls for it.
I've learnt a bit more about working styles and how to handle workplace relationships. It should be self-evident, but it's not until you properly start work that you realise how bitchy some nurses can be or how evil some seniors can be or how awful some patients can be etc etc etc. And obviously when you're the lone junior doctor covering a couple of wards on an off shift, you're gonna be picked on by the above-mentioned types. The one thing I haven't done although I was often sorely tempted to, was to repay in kind. Bad attitudes breed bad attitudes, but flaring tempers in an already-tense atmosphere only make the job that much harder. A simple "Thanks for pointing that out" or "I'm sorry I made that mistake" works surprisingly well to deflate an angry colleague/patient. But yea, keep a punching bag handy at home too. :)
Oh, and also because the whole of life was designed to be biased against us perfectionistic types, I've had to curb the tendency to obssess over trivial matters. The first few nights and days I was on, I'd bring my work home with me, in the form of endlessly rehashing what I had or had not done for who. Seriously, nothing you do will ever be enough, and you'll never get everything right, but then again, no one is expecting you to be anything but stupid at this level, so anything better than hopelessly dim-witted is a pleasant bonus. If I had to write a column for junior doctors with advice on how to be a good junior doctor, I'd say that the only requirement absolutely essential for being a junior doctor is possession of a good thick skin. You're the first person to be blamed if anything goes wrong, and the last person to get any credit when they go right. LIVE WITH IT. One day, hopefully sooner rather than later, you'll be the one calling the shots, so wait your turn. :)
Having said that, I've been pretty blessed by and large with lovely professional people working with me who understand the value of teamwork and good staff morale. Not everyone is a monster, and I honestly couldn't have survived the first 3 weeks without the help and advice of kind souls who tried their best to ease the transition from medical student to junior doctor for me and others in my position.
I have actually survived 3 weeks. Amazing.
Let's hope it gets easier from here.
Have a good week!
Edit: Also Happy Birthday Malaysia! :)
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Post-Birthday Thoughts
First off, thanks to Kenjay for spotting and pointing out that someone's been masquerading as me on several blogs. I've seen at least one such message, and it's the kind of drivel that's so Absurdly Ridiculous that only someone who has no idea what I'm like in real life could ever believe I actually wrote it. This is also probably the same person who has tried more than once to hack into this Blogger account, presumably so they can even write on my blog as me, tried to hack into my email accounts for some unknown reason, tried to get into my Facebook etc etc.
See, I'm not going to be or act frustrated, nor am I going to go round to everyone of my friend's blogs clarifying that I didn't write those things. What's the point? Mr/Miss Saboteur will always be a step ahead of me anyway, and getting worked up would be playing right into his/her hands.
Congratulate me. I seem to have joined the ranks of very famous celebrities with personal vindictive stalkers. And don't believe everything you read which is purportedly written by me.
On to happier matters. I hit the quarter-of-the-century mark yesterday! And guess what I was doing when the clock struck 12?
Yup, saving lives. Haha. Yea, it helps to think of those endless fluid charts that way.
Which is why I didn't hear the sweet song by F, J, L, WL and D until much much later. On the bright side, I WASN'T too tired to receive J, B and R into my humble abode later in the day. (Thanks for the cake and flowers, guys!) And to all who dropped me texts, Facebook messages and emails, thank you from the bottom of my heart. :)
I'm grateful to have got this far. I'm making money I'll never have time to spend, dreaming of things I may never have time to do, wishing for things I'll never have time to follow up into reality. Welcome to the Rat Race.
Seriously though. God's been good, life's been good, people have been mainly good. I'm sure I could do a whole lot better (those child prodigy and whiz kid stories always prompt self-reflection) but I'm also pretty pretty sure I could do a whole lot worse as well. I've done both what I want to do, and what I should do, and I've been happy either way. And that's definitely something not everyone can say about themselves.
Here's to love, to laughter, to friendship, to all the other wonderful things I know the years ahead hold. Here's also to pain, to stress, to sadness, to all the other not-so-wonderful things I know the years ahead also hold. Here's to life-precious, fragile, puzzling, crazy, BEAUTIFUL.
Happy birthday to me. :)
Have a great week, all!
See, I'm not going to be or act frustrated, nor am I going to go round to everyone of my friend's blogs clarifying that I didn't write those things. What's the point? Mr/Miss Saboteur will always be a step ahead of me anyway, and getting worked up would be playing right into his/her hands.
Congratulate me. I seem to have joined the ranks of very famous celebrities with personal vindictive stalkers. And don't believe everything you read which is purportedly written by me.
On to happier matters. I hit the quarter-of-the-century mark yesterday! And guess what I was doing when the clock struck 12?
Yup, saving lives. Haha. Yea, it helps to think of those endless fluid charts that way.
Which is why I didn't hear the sweet song by F, J, L, WL and D until much much later. On the bright side, I WASN'T too tired to receive J, B and R into my humble abode later in the day. (Thanks for the cake and flowers, guys!) And to all who dropped me texts, Facebook messages and emails, thank you from the bottom of my heart. :)
I'm grateful to have got this far. I'm making money I'll never have time to spend, dreaming of things I may never have time to do, wishing for things I'll never have time to follow up into reality. Welcome to the Rat Race.
Seriously though. God's been good, life's been good, people have been mainly good. I'm sure I could do a whole lot better (those child prodigy and whiz kid stories always prompt self-reflection) but I'm also pretty pretty sure I could do a whole lot worse as well. I've done both what I want to do, and what I should do, and I've been happy either way. And that's definitely something not everyone can say about themselves.
Here's to love, to laughter, to friendship, to all the other wonderful things I know the years ahead hold. Here's also to pain, to stress, to sadness, to all the other not-so-wonderful things I know the years ahead also hold. Here's to life-precious, fragile, puzzling, crazy, BEAUTIFUL.
Happy birthday to me. :)
Have a great week, all!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Doctor's Mess, 6:46am, Monday 11 August 2008
I had every intention of starting up a daily diary of my first week on nights but it somehow got lost in the midst of crazy biological clock adjustments and general lethargy.
It is with some shock that I realise I've only been doing this thing slightly less than a week. During which time I've learnt more than I did during the last year of medical school. Query that. Like every other diagnosis you write in patient notes.
So which is the worst bit? Hmmm. The awful 12-hour shifts at times when the rest of the sane world is fast asleep? Not really, I'm kinda familiar with that. (Was notorious for going to bed at 6am on weekend nights.) The bleep going off just when you thought you could get a short break? Maybe, but again, it's not like I've ever had to deal with anything IMMEDIATELY so far, and even if there was something which needed seen PRONTO, they'd probably not call a 5-day-old junior doctor in the first instance. (or maybe they DO, and I've just been lucky so far. *starts panicking*) Even the giant pen-gobbling monster that must definitely exist somewhere in the pits of Ninewells (they deny this most vehemently) and the horrible-smelling curtains which have probably not been washed since Adam (or you could have fooled me) and the cracked raw skin from all the hand-washing have been pretty much tolerable so far.
It's the lack of social interaction that gets to me. Aha, didn't see that coming, did you, especially from the usually anti-social Adeline. On night and weekend shifts, the only people you'll ever see are probably nurses, the medical team at handovers, and if you're lucky, a senior when you phone for help/advice. Otherwise it's you in your doctor's room, scribbling away, checking bloods, writing up fluids, clerking folk in, working pretty much in isolation. Then by the time you get home, you're so dead you can't do much apart from sleep. When M and YC dropped by the flat earlier, I realised I hadn't actually seen or spoken to any friends in a social setting since I started work. Amazing and scary.
Oh well. Me helping folk. That'll have to keep me going for now. :)
Have a good week, all.
It is with some shock that I realise I've only been doing this thing slightly less than a week. During which time I've learnt more than I did during the last year of medical school. Query that. Like every other diagnosis you write in patient notes.
So which is the worst bit? Hmmm. The awful 12-hour shifts at times when the rest of the sane world is fast asleep? Not really, I'm kinda familiar with that. (Was notorious for going to bed at 6am on weekend nights.) The bleep going off just when you thought you could get a short break? Maybe, but again, it's not like I've ever had to deal with anything IMMEDIATELY so far, and even if there was something which needed seen PRONTO, they'd probably not call a 5-day-old junior doctor in the first instance. (or maybe they DO, and I've just been lucky so far. *starts panicking*) Even the giant pen-gobbling monster that must definitely exist somewhere in the pits of Ninewells (they deny this most vehemently) and the horrible-smelling curtains which have probably not been washed since Adam (or you could have fooled me) and the cracked raw skin from all the hand-washing have been pretty much tolerable so far.
It's the lack of social interaction that gets to me. Aha, didn't see that coming, did you, especially from the usually anti-social Adeline. On night and weekend shifts, the only people you'll ever see are probably nurses, the medical team at handovers, and if you're lucky, a senior when you phone for help/advice. Otherwise it's you in your doctor's room, scribbling away, checking bloods, writing up fluids, clerking folk in, working pretty much in isolation. Then by the time you get home, you're so dead you can't do much apart from sleep. When M and YC dropped by the flat earlier, I realised I hadn't actually seen or spoken to any friends in a social setting since I started work. Amazing and scary.
Oh well. Me helping folk. That'll have to keep me going for now. :)
Have a good week, all.
Monday, August 04, 2008
New Job!
First off, pay no attention to the chatterbox's fake "Adeline". To all friends who posted messages, thanks and do miss you all terribly. Will respond to all future messages strictly only in blog posts not on the side chatterbox anymore.
Ooooo, start work as Foundation Year 1 Junior Doctor Wednesday proper, induction course tomorrow. Got all my rotas and information packs, disclosure forms etc sorted out, cannot.wait.to.get.cracking!
The big news of course is that I will be in charge of the entire surgical wing of Ninewells Hospital for 7 whole nights starting on THE.THIRD.DAY.OF.MY.NEW.JOB. Yea baby, before I've even had a chance to acclimatise to the unpleasant fact that the buck now stops with me, I'm having to run around 4 surgical wards, one of which is Acute Receiving, for crying out loud, with only one other junior doctor to help me. (who, if he is anything at all like me, will be of precious little help.)
Note to self: Do.Not.Panic. You.will.be.fine. They.are.usually.nice.when.it's.your.first.week.
Oh well. Lots more to do so have a great week everyone and TRY not to dream too much of venflons if you can. They're very depressing.
Cheers!
Ooooo, start work as Foundation Year 1 Junior Doctor Wednesday proper, induction course tomorrow. Got all my rotas and information packs, disclosure forms etc sorted out, cannot.wait.to.get.cracking!
The big news of course is that I will be in charge of the entire surgical wing of Ninewells Hospital for 7 whole nights starting on THE.THIRD.DAY.OF.MY.NEW.JOB. Yea baby, before I've even had a chance to acclimatise to the unpleasant fact that the buck now stops with me, I'm having to run around 4 surgical wards, one of which is Acute Receiving, for crying out loud, with only one other junior doctor to help me. (who, if he is anything at all like me, will be of precious little help.)
Note to self: Do.Not.Panic. You.will.be.fine. They.are.usually.nice.when.it's.your.first.week.
Oh well. Lots more to do so have a great week everyone and TRY not to dream too much of venflons if you can. They're very depressing.
Cheers!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Present-ness
Focusing on the here and now can be harder than you think. If you're like me, your mind flits incessantly between the past and the future, with little bits of in-between dwelling on the present. People like that can often seem divorced from their reality, almost as if the world they interact in is an inconvenient and unpleasant part of the world where they really want to be, the world of the things that have been and could be instead of the world of the things that ARE.
I don't want to wake up one day and realise I've missed out on so much of the beauty of things I was a part of while I was a part of them simply because I was too busy thinking about all the other things I wasn't a part of. Reading Michael Koh's book "Healing Your Internal Clock" has brought this point home in a real and meaningful way.
I'm glad I took time out from the Commitments to do it. :)
I don't want to wake up one day and realise I've missed out on so much of the beauty of things I was a part of while I was a part of them simply because I was too busy thinking about all the other things I wasn't a part of. Reading Michael Koh's book "Healing Your Internal Clock" has brought this point home in a real and meaningful way.
I'm glad I took time out from the Commitments to do it. :)
