its not easy being a patient. all your symptoms are so subjective, and you tend to place more significance on some symptoms over others. a doctor will ask you a few "simple" questions which aren't really that simple e.g:where's the pain?

i've taken a sick day. i'm off work. i think i'm recovering from food poisoning. -stay away from KFC at all costs - It started with severe central abdominal cramps that must have been directly linked to the toxins causing my intestines to spasm violently. then the vomiting, - the lead up to a good vomit is always the worse part compared to the relief afterwards. still feeling a little bit whoozy though. maybe its just a sign of over exhaustion?

i wish it was simple

me and my good friend will drove down together to hamilton this afternoon to re-unite with our mutual friend dan. the triumphant trio as we were! its been a little while since our last reunion. we enjoyed a meal together in this uber-cool hamiltonian cafe whilst espousing on the shortcomings of our health system. we then began to talk about our time in niger together. good times and "my how far we have come" -a mantra which we would often recite on the dank smelly wards of galmi hospital- its soo incredibly weird that even after 10 months of occidental taint the experience of galmi is still fresh in our minds and is yet to be lost in memory. and so we plan to return to that place in the next couple of years.

its strange to relate such experiences within the frame and context of our current working environment. it almost seems ridiculous. how complicated it is over here. the duty to care for our patients is surmounted by our duty to generate screeds and screeds of notes in order to protect ourselves in case of litigation.

as i reflect on the current junior doctors strike and what it actually means to achieve i cannot help but feel a little bit cheated. i wonder if all this is just an intellectual power struggle between heads of equally grotesque beasts of inflated self-importance, and us poor doctors are merely pawns in this battle. we all entered into this contract believing -perhaps too idealistic for our own sanity- that we were going to help people/to help heal our nation, one sick person at a time. we were once human vehicles driven by the cherubs of good will, now we seem to have turned into animals led by demons of ambition and pleasure seeking. although it would be nice if we worked less than eighty - ninety hours a week...

thursday grey

its saturday.
i can now reflect objectively on the events of thursday night. probably the worst night on call ever! the earlier part of my 7 night stretch was pretty sedate, i.e.: from day 1 to day 6 - you got an appendix here, a gallstone there and everywhere an abdominal pain...i was anticipating and almost half expecting that the last night would either be tremendously busy or deafly silent. the gods of the surgical wards wanted a little more excitement that night, they wanted more than a little "low urine output"...

so there i was starting the shift. the 'day' surgical intern bellowed "welcome! welcome" as soon as i stepped in. an ominous feeling stirring inside me now. and there began the night...i was handed over two sick sick sick patients which was enought to make me a little bit nervous. nevermind the consultant that night wanted me to do hourly checks on mrs.x incase she choked and died. which she did later in the morning-after my shift of course!...whew... There were 5 patients to be admitted in emergency and about 15 needing reviews on the ward. the task was a little daunting...but by grace and support from my aloof seniour we managed to survive the night. by the end of the shift i was physically shaking-i had missed mr. b's vein (a good one too! a big fat juicy one) twice.

i had a couple of fresh moments too. we malaysians have this thing we call a "fresh moment". we don't talk about it much as its a little embarrassing. anyways, you are more susceptible to experiencing a fresho when you are sleep deprived, nervous and caffeine free in my case. remember that lady i was asked to keep checks on, yes...anyways she was crapping out, so i called the intensive care resident...and as soon as she answered the phone...it happened. i was speechless. i could not speak a word of intelligible england. "you know ahhh dat laydeee uh...yah huh she uh dat one you know got crackles one hoh?!....".....silence....awkward silence ensues...."i'll call you back"....

i will stop here...
thanks for listening.

nights

mr. X was sleeping soundly before i frightened him into wakefulness. i can only imagine the fear as his eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit room, me a dark figure standing over him ready to attack him with my stethoscope. in hindsight (hence lack of foresight) i probably shoulda been more gentle with the guy in my approach. a "hey Mr. X! i'm just gonna push on your tummy over here!" is not the best way. ... Mr. X survived the night.

i am now 2 hours into the shift. and i am feeling terrific. my brain is adjusting to the day-night time reversal thing. i must say, i do prefer working night shifts. its a lot quieter and if you do need to deal with a sick patient - you have time to think which is a very good thing to do when you have a sick patient.

i spent most of today sleeping. i watched the first hour of that last prequel installment of George Lucas's Star Wars movies...episode III it is called. couldn't watch anymore. that guy that plays darth vadar seemed kinda whiny and just plain ol'stoopid. rather than getting all worked up about losing padme he shoulda invested more time and energy into cloning her. i know i would have.

strike actions

we're caught in the middle, between two parties with conflicting interests. both clearly misunderstanding each other. if we strike, then the people suffer but only for a few days. if we don't strike the people will suffer in the long run. so i guess its time to strike. for the common good and all that...

hard? nuts...

got some pictures for ya mike!
the one of the top is of the little big building housing fremantle markets...crazy smells and colours inside. you should take a peek. and then have a wiff...



here's a question. how many doctors does it take to start an oven?



the green sack is called a swag. every bushman in oz has one. you stick your sleeping bag inside this canvas sack, then you slip yourself into the sleeping bag and now you are warm and dry. like moist toast. mmm...