Goliaths

Let me tell you about this person that I just got to know. A young, paediatric doctor. He is quiet and looks a bit on the serious side. But you should see him when he handles the little ones. He says a very quiet hi and one hand gently clasps the baby's hand, and his other hand laid on the forehead. Around his stethoscope is also a harmless-looking pink torniquet. And he used to carry around his Superman pen for the children to play with while he examines them, until he lost it that is. Adept hands that palpates, all the while reassuring the scared child. He is the epitome of gentleness. As I stand beside him, observing him while he writes in the case notes during the rounds, I wonder how is this person still standing given the personal grief that is still too recent it must still hurt.
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He smiles and there's the occassional chuckle. He is very good at what he's doing, and he is obviously a caring person. It's rare that you can say that about a doctor I think, when the diagnoses sometimes can get a bit impersonal, so it's understandable that one can't pay attention to absolutely everyone. But the feeling that I get from this doctor is that he gives every patient a bit of him, that personal touch, that extra length so it shows that he really cares. Still I question at the end of the day, how is he still doing this?
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This person has just lost a sibling, and it's tragic when they die young innit. But he carries on ever so normally I did wonder if he felt anything at all. But a few days ago, I stumbled upon something personal (not that one can keep online things personal for long), it was a letter from him to his now-gone brother. Then I knew, behind that masked exterior is also a grieving heart.
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There is a lot that I have to learn from this person, I think. Like how to continue comforting when your heart too needs comforting. How to continue giving when you're running on empty. How to smile when your heart is bleeding. How to remain standing when you just want to drop down on the floor and bawl. There is much strength in his character that it astounds me, and the fact that he bears all in silence. I, myself, was feeling a bit blue yesterday over a personal matter. But then I remembered this person, so I pulled myself together, I stood a little taller and my heart a little lighter. The Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing I shall want. Despite things running off tangents, I will be happy.
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We all have our own personal Goliaths that we have to defeat. I thank God for yet another person in my working life who has inspired me in my daily little crosses. He is aptly named after that biblical character, I think. Plus, I'm beginning to really like it here in the paeds ward. Once in a while, while clerking cases, a little one would wander in my direction. I would stop what I was doing and I'd play with the kid for a while. It's nice working in a place like that.

Dad on Relationships

My dad is so cute. He begins every email with a "Hi, love" and just 4 days ago, there was such an email. Guess what was the subject of the email?
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Entering a relationship.
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I don't know why my dad suddenly emailed my sister and I about it, but he did. It began with a..
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"Entering a relationship is normal and part of life. There are risks one has to take. But no risk no gain. Don't expect the first relationship to work out straight away sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. If they do, you are lucky if not move on and look for new friends. It's not the end of the world and it could be a blessing in disguise and God's way of saying the person is not His choice for you. "
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Then, it went on to say
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"Don't worry about the man of your life he will be there when the time comes and if not it is sometimes better to be single than married to a wrong man or ending up with a failed marriage."
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"Men appear nice and goody during courtship stage but his real colour shows once he captures or gets you. Test him to see if he is suitable for you. Don't fall for his tricks and deceits. Be open minded yet evaluative."
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"Have a blessed day. Love, Dad."
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I don't think everyone has hidden agendas, but I do very much appreciate the fact that my dad looks out after my sister and I. Sigh. I bet it's hard being parenting two girls.

Godspeak

I had the most amazing conversation with a stranger. It was a long conversation (turns out I became ular and didn't masuk ward at all today since my paeds preceptor is away) in that dingy, claustrophobic, poorly lit TDM room. With the new TDM pharmacist who just got home to serve after 2 years working (and 9 years studying) in kiwiland.

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I don't know how it happened, but our conversation rapidly progressed into God-talk. She was just asking about the general working environment in this place, and we talked about What Happened on Friday, then wham. She said things that I didn't expect her to say, but they were spot on, she's a perceptive one, and things I needed to hear. "Take courage, and hang in there. I see a potential in you, and I know you are a caring person. You don't have to do big things to make an impact on patient's lives. God grants each person different gifts, so it's true you don't get to resuscitate patients like the doctors, or look after them like the nurses, but you'll be surprised to know that even a smile, no matter how insignificant the act is, can do a lot to make the patients feel better and cared for. Treated like they are human beings and not just a number you need to call out, or just another job that needs to be done. So don't feel frustrated."

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Life is short. Death is certain. Forever is long. I wish I can remember all the things that we said in earnest to each other. I wish I can be articulate and describe to you how much this person has touched my heart today, with her being so unabashedly Catholic and very encouraging. It wasn't awkward at all, opening myself to her. We shared about miracles God has done in our lives, the moments when things got difficult and how we suddenly see the face of God, interior conflicts resolved by prayer. I honestly haven't done this since CSS. She still questions why she got Miri, and why TDM, at which point I told her, I don't know either what God has planned for you here, but I can tell you today, God's plan is for you to cheer up a PRP that you barely even know.

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She really did. I found God in the workplace today, where I need him the most.

To Fresh Starts

The anger is leaving, God and love is entering. Why did I burden my heart so? I choose not to seethe anymore. Eventhough, seriously lar, work politics make me sick. But I'll only be contributing to it if I continue mulling over it and refusing to let it go. I will let this go. I will respect, even when mutual respect is obviously lacking. Begin anew.

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Breathe. Move to happy thoughts. Imagine this situation. It is raining and you're sharing an umbrella with someone. It just HAD to rain. It just HAD to be a small umbrella. And you happened to be wearing a dress, and you HAD to go past this vent that blows air and threatens you to do a marilyn monroe. And of course, you had to wear the 1-Brit pound Primark flip flops that screams caution on slippery surfaces. So while you have to deal with this, you also had to concentrate on getting closer to that person to get out of the rain, but not too close so as not to touch. No, no, no, you don't want to tersentuh because that would be awkward. It was hilarious really. Don't get me started on the boyband ballads. That was how Saturday night was like. :)))

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Fresh start today. Ms P the Housemate told me that paeds medical ward will be fun. I can't believe I'm starting clinical, go back to this clerking cases thang. I'll let you know how it goes. At least I get to play with children this month, that should be wayy better than dealing with adult patients.

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Have a nice, blessed start of the week.

Post-call

Top of the morning to you!
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I feel so tired but I had a good week, all things considered. It would have been better if my 2 laptops did not fail on me when I have a CPD presentation to prepare for, but, it could have been worse.
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So in a few hours I'll be passing on the keys to K. I'm glad. I cannot go anywhere last week without my big Lexi-comp, a Frank Shann and a calculator. Ridiculous, bringing the books around to dinner, cinema, shopping, and church. On that note, just found out that one of Mater Dei's altar server passed away, they announced in Carmelite and I couldn't have been more shocked when I heard the name. It's a name that I see everyday in satellite when we do ward supply. So it's weird and sad like that, to see grief in the face. It's also always a tragedy when they die young.
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Ah well. I wish I could stay for longer, but I do have work to do. Boo hoo. But it's play again this weekend. :)

Kerana masinnya mulut

Phone call at 10.45pm. I must have been asleep for half an hour. Grappled in the dark for the phone. Where's the phone. 085 number.
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OH! T_T
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Operator went hello, on call pharmacist ke and immediately connected me to DrA, who rattled off things that I couldn't quite catch, groggy as I was at that time, and blur as I was, seeing that was my first call. All I heard was A&E, fits, phenytoin and a Can you come now? As if I can not come.
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A&E is oddly meriah at night. Went inside to grab the blood sample from DrS, who went on to explain that the patient is a chronic alcoholic, despite being warned many times and at least 3 trips to the A&E for uncontrolled fits. DrS went on to ask if alcohol is inducer or inhibitor of phenytoin metabolism. In my head I was like, no, dont ask me now, because even standing was a conscious effort. But ya la, it's an inducer.
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Getting into the TDM unit at night is like trying to find my way in a maze. First to the operator to get the keys to hemodialysis unit,
to get to the pharmacy pintu rintangan api,
to get to the IPD,
to get the keys to OPD,
to get the reagents to TDM.
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Luckily Ms P and Ms S came along, one has been attached to TDM, one to IPD, so between the 3 of us, we worked quite fast. Thank God, if not it would have taken longer. Then with the results back to A&E, the phenytoin level much too low, which is why patient is still seizing. So please don't drink if you're on phenytoin. At least, lying on the bed, the patient was the picture of utmost contrition. Until of course, his next visit to A&E. Sigh. So degil.
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And I was back at home a little over midnight. The end.


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Now playing: Gwyneth Paltrow, Huey Lewis - Cruisin
via FoxyTunes

Thank You For Not Calling

I've got new toys today. Ct and I rescued the expired MDIs (that's metered-dose inhalers, by the way) from the yellow bin, and after 620 puffs later, the canisters are finally out, so are now safe to use for demonstration purposes. I've got my own demo kit, wheee!
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Satellite pharmacy is SO not relaxing, it's not funny, considering that it's supposedly less hectic. Well, to be fair, it is less hectic inside there, but that also means more time for FRPs quiz time. So it's ward trolleys in the morning which I swab with alcohol first of all, and then it's floor stock filling. Filling in as per yellow scripts. The occasional queries to doctors. It's always interesting when I call the other (dr) Daph in the hospital. Answering phone calls from the nurses in the wards.
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The rest of the time, I study about all things parenteral, and it really eats at the brain.
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Still a call virgin. Why are they not calling me? I havent done anything TDM since oh. ages ago, so the longer I don't get called, the more I forget about how to run the blood samples. The on-call book is rather interesting though, topping the list are the snake bites antivenom, followed by a long list of vaccines and several anti-haems; and in which department they are stored. They generally don't call you that late, unless it's paracetamol poisoning, in which case you really haaave to go, so folks please don't eat more than 8 tabs panadol a day, particularly not now, because I'm off to sleep soon.

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5 more nights to go, before the log book and after-hour keys are passed on to the next on-call pharmacist. Like playing hot potato.


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Now playing: Taylor Swift - Should've Said No
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Dog & The Laundry

Oh, and I caught Dog, red-pawed, as he was rolling and and playing, in the middle of the road, mind, on Miss L's work pants that were left outside to dry. And also her black socks, strewn around him, not quite blending in with the black tar of the road. Not quite clever in covering your tracks, eh, Dog?
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It doesn't help Dog's case that Miss L is scared of dogs. And now that she has to wash those pants again when sunshine is scarce.
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But Dog(gy), you are so adorable when you start following me around everywhere.

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Now playing: Dave Matthews Band - Crash Into Me
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Forgotten Letter

It's sunny today, the sunniest that I've seen in a while. I woke up and continued reading The Chocolate Run from where I left it last night. Ran down awhile and have Dog lick my feet. He is so comot now, and he is still homeless, but I think he's growing rather attached to this house. I have not make up my mind whether I want to adopt him, but it is adorable the way he recognizes my car from afar and starts wagging its tail. I didn't want to name him, because that would mean commitment, but I cant forever call him Dog and anyway my sister beat me to it by naming him Shaggy last week.
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I feel bad for Van who has to do weekend duty alone today, karma would totally bite me where it hurts next weekend. But. Let next week worry about itself. I will survive call nights.
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Anyway after lunch (dont go to Kimmy's, it's mediocre and this is me being nice), Belle's Bookshop to add to the pile of fiction waiting to be read, cendol and Bintang, I went home and went straight to sorting things out. What I found amidst a pile of cards and train tickets and random photographs, was a very official-looking envelope from SFX. I don't remember what it was for so I pulled out the letter and, it turned out to be a letter from Jo dated 4 years ago, after a competition that we (we were a choir group from all walks of life) felt was unfairly judged. It is very lengthy, this letter, but as I read it again today, I am still amazed by her wisdom.
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It started with a personalized Dear Daphne, and somewhere in the middle were the words that struck deep.
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"In the bitter aftertaste of defeat, when love is the last thing you might be feeling, I urge you (as I do myself) to decide to love, to relinquish any lingering bitterness and move on.
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God is not just good, He's great. I believe that He would never be content to let us have second best when He has the absolute best in store for us. My theory is that a victory at ***** ***** would have been that second best (sweet, but still second best)! The possibility of extracting the absolute best lies in how we view the defeat and whether we learn any lessons from it. Don't waste this seemingly negative experience by wallowing in self-pity, self-righteousness and self-justifications of why we we're entitled to feel self-pity and self-righteousness. Still the tempests of fury and clouds of objections that are welling up inside you right now as you read this, and see if any of what I've written above rings true or hits home.
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Had I put in all the hours of practice and effort that you all did, I would probably have been sore as hell and more sour than all the 'asam boi' in the world put together. And in that state of mind, to receive a letter such as this from someone who wasn't even part of the choir would be like pouring salt onto the wound.
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But I'm guided by the way our parish priest (a.k.a. my boss - Fr SY)treats me. When I come to him with my petty concerns in the hopes that he'll validate them, he invariably challenges me to take the higher road and I leave the encounter smarting and sore... yet with a renewed desire to be more gracious and Christ-like.
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And that is what I hope this letter will achieve.
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Please know that all of us at Lifeline are proud of you. Wherever each of you is on the journey towards stepping into the light of Christ, I urge you to plod along (with each other and with me). Let's not give up and keep encouraging each other to take the long, narrow and infinitely more difficult road.. for that is the only one that leads anywhere worthwhile.
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Love in Christ,
Jo"

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So well said.
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Now playing: John Mayer - Covered In Rain
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Come, says my heart

Fr Dom said something interesting last week and it was something along the lines of "I belong to the order of priesthood which requires me to be celibate, but I still function like a man." You know, just to put the spekurama to rest. I nodded in agreement and in understanding. It took me awhile to realize that saints are saints, they are holy not because God took away the things that could make them impure, but because by God's grace, they managed to defy their humanity and be holy. The cravings of the flesh, the propensity to lash out (I heard Padre Pio had anger issues), they're still there. They're like us, they're like you and I. To be good is not first nature, it's human nature to fall. To sin.
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I repeat, they're not who they are, because they have it easier. They're ordinary people who became extraordinary because they seek more of God. To seek God, it's something that I really need to remind myself to do.
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Oh, and men who become priests and virgins who become nuns, it's definitely not because they do not feel things.
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The reason I'm bringing this up tonight is because maybe I need a reminder to not keep God at arm's length, like I sometimes do. My relationship with God is like a rollercoaster, I'll be on a brief high before I hit the low. Now I'm pushing myself up this incline, to try to be closer again. Jesus come meet me and help me up. The point I'm making to myself tonight is that God is accessible to everyone - to those who pray, and those who don't. To saints and to sinners alike. God is accessible to me. Maybe even more so (accessible) to me, because let's face it, it's the broken who needs mending. It's the sick who needs healing. I am broken and I am sick. I need forgiveness.
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One of my favourite from Psalms is this:
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Hear my voice, Lord, when I call;
have mercy on me and answer me.
"Come", says my heart, "seek God's face";
your face, Lord, do I seek.
Do not hide your face from me;
do not repel your servant in anger.
You are my help: do not cast me off;
do not forsake me, God my saviour.
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Psalm 27: 7-9
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And don't you dare say it's easier for me, because I have access to a bible.
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Now playing: Nichole Nordeman - Gratitude
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i just have to say this

I'm so cold it's not funny. I'm shivering all over and there are goosebumps everywhere. I just want to stay under the blanket until morning. And not get any work done.

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Now playing: Sea Wolf - You're a Wolf
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post hol blues

My housemates said I look miserable. I do not dispute that, but it's not too bad inside.
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I will be happy I will be happy I will be happy I will be happy coming in for work tomorrow.
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So the purple finger nails will have to go by morning, and the beautiful heels (padre begs to differ, naturally) temporarily shoved aside to make way for sensible working shoes. But I guess, I guess I have to be thankful that Madam OPD Preceptor is not yet chasing me for 3 weeks worth of medication reviews, that my next CPD presentation is postponed a week from the previous date (good, because I have nothing yet on that front), and that I still have 2 weeks before the start of paeds med.
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Home was great, the way it should be. I spent a lot of time at Atiyi's (a.k.a. Aunty #3) and Tuai's (Aunty #1), and grandma is always happy to see me. Bintulu really is small in the sense that I felt that I cannot go anywhere without meeting (i) Tiki, or (ii) people related to Tiki. But it's nice, the way everything is so familiar, though I find myself bringing work back home with me. It's freaky how frequent I dreamt of being in the hospital, working, and random things that I see when I sleep, like prednisolone, or atenolol formulated sausages for better compliance. Gila.
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On the bright side, I'm getting better at it, this pharmacy thing. I spent time going over my aunts' meds, trying to identify what was what and I was pleased I got 90% right. But let's face it, what else can be white and a quarter of a pill if not aspirin? The 10% was because I didn't know what moduretic looks like, but now I know. It's oval and orangey-pink.
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(Knock on the door. Oh, it's my copy of Pharmacy Practice Manual. Now begging to be read, the vile thing.)
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I like this song. It makes me wanna go twirl and twirl around. I actually did, the twirling thing, now I'm a bit dizzy.

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Now playing: The Postal Service - Nothing Better
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