Broga Hill

YY : 4am tomorrow morning wake up, we go climb Broga Hill

Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok

Our objective : To watch the sunrise.

So a morning call at an ungodly hour, led to an unprecedented meeting at 7-11 in DJ, followed by an unjustifiable 1 hour drive to Semenyih where Broga Hill is.

Was it in Semenyih? I also cannot remember.

But my point.

So we arrived at 6ish when everything was still pitch black. Like black, BLACK.
And Broga is a hill covered in yes, greenery and stuff so that makes it even MORE black.

Good thing the boys brought torches.

Let me just say the first half of the climb was fairly easy, more of like walking up wide steps. The second half was steeper and more sandy, hence more slippery but with less trees around. There were quite a bunch of people climbing and the human jam started at the steep part where you see congregations of humans stopping to rest. Since it was still quite dark, the mass of torches lit the hill up like a Christmas tree.

Literally.

It was quite surprising to see that most climbers were young adults with SLRs strapped around their necks. Yes. Tooting heavy SLRs carried right to the top. Out of the 8 of us that went, 3 of us brought SLRs.

Why the pain right? Just for that perfect shot.

So did we manage to find the sun to watch it rise?

No.
All we saw were clouds.
But despite the clouds, we still did manage to see the change of colour in the sky when touched by the sun's golden fingers.

Then being Malaysian, we can't go anywhere without food.

Those are Chipster Chips. We should qualify for some advertisement reward for this shot. Carrying the packet all the way up there. Another 100g load added to our already heavy SLRs.





Funny how small things in life can give you such joy when you look back. It was a random suggestion during one of our yum cha nights which lead to me climbing up with my old schoolmates. Despite being in the UK for 5 years and counting, I appreciate my time with them when I am home - I really do.

I suppose the best friends you make are those you encounter during your years of education.

If only we can all go back to 17 again.

Close to Death

Ever had those experiences where you felt close to death?

Well, I have never.

And despite the topic, I still remain experience-less in that area, although on hindsight, I did come rather close to it 2 days ago.

Perhaps not DEATH per say, but a pretty close shave to getting my face scarred by glass shards and breaking my bones in a hundred different places, not to mention getting whiplash injury or perhaps a punctured lung, God forbid.

In fact I am actually quite pissed off.

Not that I waved bye to Death, No... or scarring my beautiful fine skin, but because I got yelled at; MAJORLY yelled at - I think the only other person who has yelled at me like that in the past was my mom - and Rachel Hung does not deal with people yelling at her.

Of course, unless it was a policeman who could very easily have slapped a £60 fine on my wrist.

Wait, wait I digress.

The evening started with my fellow house officers and I rushing to the gym - yes I go to the gym now - for a Body Combat class - yes I do body combat now; WHY? Because there really is nothing much to do after work and I want to look at Kate Moss can or not.

I still enjoyed that pot of Ben & Jerry's though. (Who said one can't become like Kate Moss and still eat B&J's?)

Anyway.

Yes, 3 of us hopped into his BMW 3 1.6 dark blue 3 door car, I buckled up at the passenger seat in front, and off we sped towards the centre of town.

Damn, I'm paying £45/month for use of my gym. If I manage to go twice a week, that's about £6/entry. Wah, back in Uni only £2/entry lor.

So we finally reach the town's mega roundabout with about 10 traffic lights (IN the roundabout) to get to the correct exit that we want. Just as we sped around the traffic light, Dr T decides that his BMW can take the corner in Gear 10.

As we round the corner, our centripetal force swung the car into a smooth curve that looked almost like we could make it to the next traffic light before it turned red.

Of course, being a doctor and not an extra from Tokyo Drift, Dr T forgot to take into account the wet roads and the fact that his BMW is from the 90's and does not have ABS built into his wheels.

He loses control.

The car spins 360 degrees.

And again.

And stops.

I have to commend his driving abilities here though, as the stop was an almighty smooth one. NO screeching of tyres or burning smoke like Hollywood.

But it spun around and around all the same.

I think I only realised that we have lost control once the car had hit 180 degrees.
In fact, I remember just thinking WTF is going on, because we were all so focused on the fact that we were late.

At this point, I think I'll make a damn good surgeon. If an earthquake hits, I can still sew up my patient's bleeding aorta.

Out of the surgeon dream and back to the present.

When the car stopped and when I noticed the other cars coming towards me in the other direction - the first thought that came into my mind was....

'OMG. This is embarrassing.'

No no, not 'Holy smokes, they are going to crash into me!'

Thank goodness for the 10 traffic lights because that meant all the cars had actually stopped before and are going at a rather slow pace so they all braked and watched our embarrassment. Pardon me, MY embarrassment.

I'm not sure if my other two mates were pooping in their pants or not.

Anyway, there we were stopped in the middle of the road, taking up 3 lanes. Of course, the car engine had to give up on us and feed my embarrassment more. I was struggling internally to stop screaming out : JUST F***ING START THE CAR SO WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE! and I am happy to say I muttered a very neutral 'uh oh'. Of course, if it was a closer friend, I would've totally BUTCHERED him.

After the 5th try, the BMW started and we gave a palms up to all the other drivers who probably think we are total NEDS (non educated delinquents) to get ourselves into that pickle - and drove on towards the gym.

To be fair, I was totally cool with the whole episode.
I did not think of it the whole 2 hours I was in the gym - in fact a sip of alcohol could've increased my heart rate more instead of that 360 degree skid.

I came out and we were all a-talk and a-laugh as I slipped into the back seat. Music blared (I don't know why all these young doctors like music pumping out of the car til ear-splitting level) and what can only happen next to make the day worse was that we

got

Flagged

Down

By

The

Police.

WTF.

Today is a BAD day for cars and us 3 doctors.

So the policeman comes by the drivers window, jabs his finger at me (sitting meekly behind) and says to Dr T, 'You the driver, your responsible for her sitting behind. She's not wearing a seatbelt.'

And I laugh with relief - I thought he caught us skidding earlier on ... and in fact, who said laughter is the best medicine?

Stupid Reader's Digest.

Because of my silly laugh of RELIEF, Mr Policeman changed his tone from 'I am not going to fine you because you obviously look like a NED and we don't do NEDs' to : ' YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? YOU F****ING THINK IT IS? YOU COULD KILL YOUR FRIEND IN FRONT OF YOU YOU MORONIC CUBE!!! (as in moron to the power of 3)' and continued onto a whole onslaught of aggressively over the top verbal diarrhoea that was, is and will always be: TOTALLY uncalled for, inclusive of statistics on how many people with no seatbelt actually DIE.

Eh, I can tell you how many people with small cell lung cancer die too ok.

Caught red handed, I did what I did best, try to look sorry (quite difficult as I don't take on the whole yelling at me thing) and injected a few tactful 'I agree, sir, I fully understand' with vigorous nodding at opportune moments to appease this cop's anger on how I could've killed us all (including him and his partner in the police car behind).

The final straw came when threatened - why do I say threatened? - Because he says it as: I can fine you right here, right now.

At which I was ready to pull out all stops, play the foreigner card and pretend I had just overcome puberty.

Ang mohs dig stuff like that.

But he cuts to the chase and echo my exact sentiment: 'Where are you from?'

'Malaysia. Yes sir, we don't do seatbelts in the back seats in my country. I didn't know, I'm really sorry'

And Dr T quickly quips in, 'Yes, I am sorry, she is my responsibility, it's my fault.'

Awww, bless Dr T.

Then, he goes on on his barrage of attacking me again with, 'What if your friend here lose control of his car? It's a wet night, the roads are slippery..'

RIGHT.
You know what they say about irony? This is the perfect example.
Yes he DID lose control of his car, yes the roads are slippery, and yes, because it was slippery, we spun the 360 degrees.
Ironic ei?

Aye.

Of course we keep all our mouths shut and once again turn on the 'we are terribly sorry look'.

At to which he finally says, 'When are you going back home?'

'Early next year'

'Oh.'

'Yes, officer, I am really sorry.'

'Well, since you are going home, there is no point me fining you (because you are just going to throw the fine away)' - he didn't quite say that, but I could hear it rolling off his lips just before he sealed them

'Aw, thanks officer. I'll remember forever now, I will NEVER do it again.'

You know, boot licking crap.

'I'll just give u a warning now.'

'Thanks'
'Thanks'
'Thanks', we chime and sat in stony silence until the policeman walked off back into his car.

Think I was embarrassed earlier on? This seals the entire deal.

At to which Dr M who was in the back seat on the way in to town confesses the popper of them all, 'I was not belted up earlier on either.' And we tooting spun 360 degrees.

Well, well, well.

So we did manage to fill Mr Policeman's whole half cooked story of slippery road-losing control-not belted up to the T.

We are just extremely grateful that they did not ask us what our job was t nor were they there earlier on when we spun out of control.

Because doctors and seat belts and losing control of cars just does not fit into the whole, 'I want to help people that is why I want to do medicine' propaganda.

Nope, not at all.
After all, we are here to save the world.

My First Paycheck

What do you do when you suddenly receive a load of cash into your account, more than you have ever received before?

Buy yourself a present.

What do you do when you have worked for a solid 3 weeks including the 2 weekends?

Buy yourself a present.

What do you do when you are stuck in a small township in the middle of nowhere?

Buy yourself a present.

What do you do when you have nothing better to do when you return from work (not study, God forbid) and have no internet?

Buy yourself a present.

What do you do with your first paycheck?

Buy yourself a HDTV.

Finals: Graduation and Beyond

My Graduation 7/7/2009

Short and sweet, the University of Edinburgh's Graduation Ceremony takes just over an hour to pass their students under its acclaimed hat (quite alike the Hogwarts hat. I am inclined to think JK Rowling got the idea from my uni, afterall she IS from Edinburgh) with a 'tap on the head', signifying an end to our university days.


I have never understood why I pay obscenely high fees to study medicine in the UK.
Still, I've been dishing out the cash for 5 years now and yes, for the uninformed, my graduation cert, which is a flimsy A4 paper printed with possibly HP's Bubble Inkjet Printer (or even maybe Dell's, God forbid) costs a whopping RM 1 million, give or take.

Honestly. I will try not to swear here.

And when you think you've overcome the abominably, excessively, over priced years of education, one can look forward to what is supposedly the happiest day of your life, before marriage that is (or perhaps not for some).

Yet, we can never escape the gyrating wheels of money laundering by our higher education centres. To graduate, I had to pay £40. TO GRADUATE. Yes, yes. To be allowed to graduate, I had to pay £40.

And then, comes the renting of robes. £35. Not down payment, mind you. A one off payment.

Of course, being the new generation stylish graduate about to storm the workforce, one must dress to impress.
After reviewing all previous graduands attire, we (please note, I am not that superficial, this was done as a collaborative project between a few of us) came to an unanimous decision that the best outfit will include a FITTED white shirt (please, no loose, straight cut shirts that makes you look like a block of cheese) - the more outstanding the collar the better, cuff-linked-sleeves, a black skirt - this varied, some wore pretty flare ones, some wore normal A line ones, but I highly recommend a pencil skirt (once again - FITTED, NO loose ones that hangs below your knees; or to mid calf - OMG) , and I include another vital fashion accessory - a belt, thick or thin, depending on how it looks on you, or in my case, what is available.
Oh, and finally shoes. Court shoes with HEELS please, no flatties, and really, NO OTHER SHOE WILL SUFFICE. Full stop. Black patent leather looks the coolest, of course you can go for bright colours if you want to look a bit like a clown, or you can choose the uber cool colour I got which was dark purple. Do Not Forget Stockings.

It's all about the planning people. How do you think Beyonce looks like Beyonce?

On that day, for heaven's sake, please put on some make up. I know, I know, we are all about au naturale, going green and sh*t, but put all those selfless thoughts and Mother Naturey goodness aside and be selfish for once. You need to look good. GOOD dammit. Do you want to look back in 10 years and see how your pimple twinkled so distractingly in your pictures? Or how your face looked like a patchwork quilt of browns and yellows, or even, how small and droopy your eyes were? When you can overcome all these imperfections with a magical wave of the mascara wand?
NO.
Stop thinking that people will appreciate your natural beauty and that you are still young at 24, 23, 22 or whatever age you are when you graduate. It is irrelevant.
Wake up, grow up, it is time to compile your range of beauty products, time to master the art of make up and utmostly, time to tooting START using what was created to help women look better. I agree 100% with the term - there are no ugly women on this planet, only lazy ones. Well. Maybe 99.9%. The remaining 0.1% will just have to go see a plastic surgeon.

Att: Please note that I do not advocate the overuse of make up. If you turn up looking pasty white and as colourful as if you are about to make your debut as an extra on the West End's Phantom of the Opera Masquerade Ball scene, I'd say, please just accept your natural beauty, imperfections and all. Or, pay for a professional make up artist. If money can solve a problem, then it is not a problem.
If you can graduate from a UK university, then money should NOT be a problem.

So 5 of us got our white shirts from TM Lewin, because, did you know that it is actually bloody hard to find white shirts in the UK?? There are no G2000's around. Marks & Spencer's looked promising, until 3 of us girls were advised by the sales assistant to try the children's department because their sizes goes up to size 16.
Uh, EXCUSE ME MOI?
Must be because Kai Lin (who looks about as thin as the average chinese Malaysian girl whose BMI is 15) asked. But I was there and I am sure I am an average angmoh girl's size, of normal BMI (aka bigger than 90% of the average chinese Malaysian girl) heck, I'm even taller than that silly sales assistant, and you DARE ASK ME TO GO TO THE CHILDREN'S DEPARTMENT!?!?
Someone needs to fire her. Or educate her regarding clothes.

At the end of the day a few days, I finally put my entire outfit together.
A white shirt from TM Lewin - £25
A black skirt from Zara - £25
A pair of purple patent leather shoes from Faith - £25
Thank goodness the belt was free, although it is definitely the most expensive item of my entire outfit - still, it was bought from before so I shall not be including it in my overhead costs.


In total, I paid £150 to graduate.

I love the way money is made in the circle of life.

And then, of course, let's not forget the additional items that the university adds to squeeze the last penny from you Just before you leave their wide halls and elaborately carved arches forever.

A picture of the entire year - £22
A Latin inscribed script of your cert -£20 (£23 for EU grads, inclusive of VAT, yay, we untung £3 here)
A DVD of your graduation ceremony - £25
and the one thing that everyone WILL get - professional photography of you and your family, which I paid £127.


I think I should consider opening a university of my own.

My Graduation Ball 9/7/2009

£100 for the ticket, which included a champagne reception, a 3 course meal in a marquee at Mellerstain House (with high class hotel-like portable toilets), ceilidh cum dance band, transport to and fro, a late night snack bag, free Lush soaps (one that can prevent MRSA, really!?), half a bottle of wine each, port, and a bouncy thingy outside the marquee.


Having a tag saying Dr. Rachel Hung is really quite pleasing. It cost me my daddy RM 1 million. Let's not forget that.

Mellerstain House. Owned by Sir and Lady Haddington. 1 hour out of Edinburgh. In the middle of nowhere.Expansive land, with fountains, statues and what not, no wonder it HAS to be in the middle of nowhere. Considering I stay in a 10 feet by 4 feet box room, paying £320/month, I think I'd quite like to pay for a palace in the middle of nowhere where I can allow my kambings and lembus to run free.

The marquee and it's entrance:


It's amazing how they can build a gate from nothing. No wonder the ticket cost £100. Still, I'd be quite happy for it to be £50 and in a Princes St hotel in the MIDDLE of Edinburgh.


Anyway, once again, the same rules of getting a nice outfit, doing hair and make up applies, although this is pretty standard for most people as I am very sure everyone has been to a ball or other. Hm. Make it quite sure.

I was a bit disappointed that so few Malaysians went. But I understand that they might not enjoy it, and the price is honestly very steep. I had double thoughts myself. However, like Victoria puts it, it is after all, OUR graduation, and no matter how bad the night will end up (of course it won't, just wash it down with alcohol) we will look back in 10 years and fondly remember the night that was.

Aye.

I've officially graduated.

Dr. Hung at your service.

Finals: Preparation

Of course, now that I've officially passed my final exams, I can freely comment on every single thing I did to prepare myself to pass.

I don't know about each person's individual studying styles; but mine definitely revolves around requiring external help, in the best form of:

Study group.

That's what I call sharing IS caring ; siphoning knowledge from the better ones into my less than better brain.

But never underestimate the average medical student for what they do.

For you will see not only is their room littered with medical paraphernalia...

Yes that is Baliga's 250 Cases in Clinical Medicine book that I eventually burnt and swallowed with water due to the fact there is no way I can read 250 cases

so is their kitchen table.

Our many prescription of different drugs

And also never underestimate the amount of caffeine (and it's power) that can be consumed just to read that one line that says:

"Meniere's Disease of inner ear : dilatation of membranous labyrinth because of accumulation of endolymph causing vertigo, tinnitus and deafness."

I know. I don't understand half the words in that sentence.


But what made the revision and process much easier was the fact that there were moments when the 'student' of us truly reveals itself.

If I'm still alive 10 years from now, I will still look back at these moments and laugh.

Among the top said things were:

Alvin on explaining to a pseudopatient, aka Faizi, that he is just to be started on warfarin (which is something to make your blood thinner so you don't develop clots):
In the most un-Alvin-like-specially-engineered-for-patients-voice, "Ok, sir, so we are starting you on this drug called warfarin. Traditionally warfarin is used as rat poison..."

Faizi (eyes wide) : Are you freaking kidding me??!?!?!

And I as the pseudoexaminer : -_-"'

No, I don't think telling your patient the fact that the drug they are taking is used as rat poison is the most ideal way. Some things are better left unsaid.
Not the way forward at all, Alvin.
Not. At. All.


Pseudoexaminer Alvin: "Ok, Faizi. I see you have prescribed cyclizine (a drug that stops vomiting). Can you give me some side effects of cyclizine?"
Faizi, bristling with confidence : "Vomiting..."

In his defense, the side effects of most drugs IS vomiting, but I hardly think that a drug given to stop vomiting would come along with a side effect of... er... vomiting.

Ah, yes we have our moments.

Of course I made plenty of bloopers among incessantly asking "what causes death" in a most examiner-fashion like way (only to realise that examiners do not really think that asking what causes death is particularly thought provoking nor a great question to wheedle out the 1st class students from the mediocre ones) and also putting forward a question most innocently, "Now, tell me, what causes the consequence of what?"
Which really, could potentially be asked on exam day if only I remembered to fill a word or more into the 'what' spaces.

See?

Oh, bugger off, I have attained my MBChB title.

Finals: Clinical Practice Examination

5 years into the MBChB (for the uninformed, that's Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery, although I cannot explain why it is MBChB) course at the University of Edinburgh boils down to the 4 day stint that we're gonna pull - the FINALS.

Ok, of all the exams that I've done, I am truly and wholly committed to being a non fan of OSCEs.

At all.

Or CPE (that is the revamped name for the finals OSCE exam but does not change it's level of hatefulness one single bit) for that matter.

Yes, OSCEs is the most annoying test I can think of, where you go in and have to examine patients and present your findings and get grilled by the consultants who are there to grade you.

So why do I hate it?

Because I detest being put on the spot, and having to answer someone's question when I clearly do not know the answer to it.

But guess what? I HAVE to go through it and what more, PASS it as one of my components to attain my MBChB title.

So today was D-Day for the final OSCE/CPE showdown.

9.40am and there I am sitting and reciting gospel songs in my head to calm my nerves (yes, you will turn to God in your bleakest hour) and also psyching myself that I am here today to show off what I know.

Which really,
Isn't Heck of A Lot.

So, I get my gadgets out - name tag, stethoscope, measuring tape, black ballpoint pen and... CRAP! I forgot my pen torch!!

*oh no, oh no.. starts panicking*

I went to tell the invigilator that I do not have a pen torch and hence would not be able to perform my well-practiced-close-to-perfect examination of the eyes if required to do so. I also fully regret I will not be able to elicit that bitemporal upper quadrantinopia of the patient and roll off my list of differential diagnoses because I do not have a pen torch.
At to which she tells me that I most probably would not need it.

GOOD. I no likey the eyes anyway and whatever perfect examination I can do is total bull.

Pretty soon, I was standing outside the door of my first station which was the Short Cases, aka examination exam.
To my utmost delight, I saw Dr Flappan, my cardiology tutor in 3rd year and Professor Hayes whom I know is a liver consultant and they were both going to examine me. My heart rate immediately dropped from 200 beats per minute to about 100.
Like my flatmate puts it - you put a person who acts like a clown and the other person who IS a clown - together.. forms what another ang moh friend call - the Dream Team.
Obviously none remembered who I was.

So Prof asks for my name and checks my name badge (which reads Rachel Hung) against the clipboard and says in a slightly miffed tone, "Why do you guys have so complicated names?!?"
At to which Dr Flappan immediately retorts, "Right, Rachel. How complicated can you get with that name!?"

And everyone laughs.

"NO, look at this paper, there are tonnes of other names on it!" Prof Hayes defended.

Sorry la, my name got chinese name and yes, very unfamiliar, but I reckon Rachel Hung Kar Ying is seriously better than Karolina Skorupskaite or Etohan Anne Ogembudia. (no pun intended, those two girls are extremely friendly, nice and clever)

But, hey, argue about my name all you want docs, I'm Good. Just PASS Me.

So as we were walking in, Dr Flappan turns and asks me, "What's your favourite system?"

Flabbergasted, I did consider saying cardiology (he is a cardiologist ma, so must polish boots) but I did consider the awful fact of what if I got a cardiology patient and could not diagnose his condition? That will be downright rude.

So, I merely said, "All systems. And I like simple things. SIMPLE."

Yeahla, with my level of knowledge, things HAVE gotta be simple.

First patient up.
Dr Flappan opens the case, "Mr. X has a problem with his heart. He is applying to the Royal Bank of Scotland for a loan to buy a Ferrari. But before his loan is approved, the officers needs a medical check up on him. You are his doctor."

Ah, Ferraris.

So I start with the wash my hands, introduce myself, stand at end of bed..

While I examined to see if he had a collapsing pulse, Dr Flappan exclaimed in wonder, "Wow, that's a very good technique! Who taught you cardiology?"

Me, without skipping a beat, "I did cardiology under Professor Newby and you."

Polish, polish, polish... but it is true okay.

Ask me questions that is not academic sure can answer.

Prof Hayes, "Hmm, she looks very promising... "

YES. OF COURSE I DO.

So I moved on to finish the examination and presented what I found, at which was I think.... a wrong diagnosis, but oh well, too late now...

Next was a guy with a diabetic foot.
Dr Flappan starts again, telling me that this patient is diabetic and is complaining of numbness in his leg. "You are allowed to ask him 1 question. Ask him what he has."

Me, wah, this is going well, already give me answer : "Ok, sir, what do you have?"

And patient goes off in a torrent of symptoms til Prof Hayes tells him to shut up.

So I proceed with the usual neurology examination of the foot while both my examiners chatted about the sun and the sky, the sand and the sea.
I'm not sure if theywere actually looking at what I am doing, but hey, I was not sure if I could feel the pulses in the patients leg at all and am not sure whether they are supposed to be there or not in the first place. Nah, I'm not very good with pulses. A good thing they were discussing the more dire problems of the Earth than asking me what my findings were, lest I dig a huge hole for myself if I were to lie.
Halfway through, I was cut short by Dr Flappan asking me to go immediately to examine the ankle reflexes.

"Who taught you how to test the reflexes at the ankles like that?!"

"Oh, er, I can do it the other way."

And the external examiner whispers to them both, "What she is doing is the easy way."

OMG. I had no idea that was an easier way, I just thought that they were both the same! They call it ankle jerk for a reason. But come to think of it, she probably had saved my @ss here as the other two examiners obviously had no flippin' idea of what I was doing.

So I quickly do it the other way I know of and moved from the right side to the left side of the bed to examine his left ankle reflex when Prof Hayes injects and asks again, "Has no one taught you to do it from the right side of the bed?!"

Totally gone with the wind now, I quickly retort, "Oh, it's easier to do it from this side..."

Wat the... of course make my life easier if I can move right?!
But cannot, need to say .. sorry, sorry.

Dr Flappan adds the icing on the cake when he hits the bulls eye with, "You are evidently better at cardio than you are at neuro..."

BABI. My good first impression is slowly fading away liao...

Next case was a lady whom Prof asks me to examine her gastrointestinal system.

I start the normal wash hands, intro myself to the patient, inspection bla bla.. and I reach the neck where I mention confidently that I want to check the patient's JVP.

Prof Hayes, in a most annoyed tone, "Why do you want to check his JVP?!?"

Before I could answer, Dr Flappan interjects with an even more annoyed tone, "The JVP is very important! It could mean a lot of .... bla bla bla... " as I drowned out their voices and turned back to my patient.

I'd welcome any help of answering any questions in any form.

A few scars later and a feel of her tummy got Prof Hayes asking me what I felt, at to which I commented a rubbish answer of 'fullness in her right upper quadrant' and then mentioned my differential diagnosis as dyspepsia as she is complaining of epigastric pain.
How does RUQ fullness combine with epigastric pain and dyspepsia... I HAVE NO IDEA.

Thankfully the buzzer went and I thanked both examiners profusely as I quickly stepped out.

Station 2 was the history station where I stood outside for a good 15 seconds before Jennifer Hill, the invigilator tells me to KNOCK and GO IN.

So I did and completed my history taking in what I hope was a good empathetic, hypocritical face full of sympathy and of course, boasting top class acting skills.
Diagnosis was multiple sclerosis and I mentioned I'd like to do an ECG.. at to which the examiner asked me WHY.. and I was like.. er.. cause.. she could be anaemic? heart rate... and noticing my obvious torrent of nonsense, the examiner says IS IT GOING TO HELP YOUR DIAGNOSIS... at to which I say... noo.... SO WOULD YOU STILL WANT AN ECG.... nooooooooo..............

Finally was to break bad news to the patient that it could be multiple sclerosis and she bursts into tears and claims, 'Oh, I can't tell my mother, I won't I won't" and ting! I remembered that a marking point in the breaking bad news marking scheme is asking the patient if they wanted a relative in with them, so I quickly interjected, "Do you want your mother in with you.." and then added.. "oh, but you do not want your mother to know.... "

Right.

That station ended with me just staring at the patient and her obvious agony (all make believe of course) and me just zombie-fied because I did not know what else to do.

Moving quickly on...

Drug prescribing was for renal colic where the patient had crap kidney function. Like any good doctor would know, with crap kidney function, you Do Not, repeat DO NOT prescribe an NSAID.
Drug kardex out, and I smile to myself as I wrote - Diclofenac (a f*^%ing NSAID) 50mg..
Wait, I'm not sure about the dose.. a quick dive into the BNF shows that it's 75mg.. and I cancel out my first prescription, smiling even wider as the examiners have now seen that I am being safe and counter checking all my doses so I do not kill a patient with a wrong one.
Moving on to prescribe his normal doses for his other drugs.... it suddenly dawned on me, alike receiving enlightenment from the tree or something to the same effect...that his kidney function is BAD.
Like BAD BAD, he is going to need dialysis.

And with terror, I quickly flip to the front and cross out the heroic 'Diclofenac' and pop down Cyclizine 10mg, Morphine 1o mg.. CRAP.. 10mg morphine is way too much and another cross out to Morphine 2.5mg.

By now, my drug kardex looks like a Snake and Ladders game board.

So I hand my horrible looking answers to the examiners (I did ask if I could use a new one but they said No) and obviously my chance of exhibiting the many thousand hours I spent in my kitchen with my study mates prescribing drug after drug for the many different medical/surgical conditions were blown away by the myriad of lines on my answer sheet.

Good thing it was right though. Or at least that's what I think.

Then fluids prescription came for this guy who was vomiting and shitting blood and it totally didn't cross my mind that DAMN, I NEED TO BE CROSS MATCHING BLOOD FOR HIM AND ACTIVATING THE MAJOR HAEMORRHAGE PROTOCOL!

They got it out of me in the end and asked me a whole lot of questions that I myself do not even know what they were about.

And the nurse would also refuse to give the patient fluids because I forgot to sign my name after I prescribed them. ERGH.

But...

It's over.

And I pretty well better pass.

If not, seriously membabikan d.

ps: I realise that there are a lot of medical terms there and sorry if you cannot understand it, please use the tool called Google.

Cheating the System

I was browsing through my old entries that I never published when I came across this entry which I started on the 21st of July 2008.



So we have all heard of and in fact done things ourselves to cheat the system of everything and anything that can be cheated.


My walk of fame includes using someone else's ID to enter the gym (so I do not have to pay the appalling 2.50 pounds), faking my age when entering clubs when I was still underage back then, using someone else's ID to claim things on their behalf because all Asian people look the same here in the UK, while the top of the list includes a group of us working in perfect unison to smuggle people into the student union (one of the nights many years ago) to avoid paying entrance fees.


I'm just the tip of the iceberg, there are a whole lot of other things people do, that is so smart you would not think that it is possible.


But as the saying goes, what comes around, goes around.


So here I was this happy afternoon, skipping along as the sun shone down....





and?

What happened?????

Think as hard as I might - I realised that this incident that probably provoked me enough to warrant an entry had been completely replaced with the doses required to treat a community acquired pneumonia.

500mg Amoxycillin TDS
or
500mg Clarithromycin BD

But, I DO want to know what was it that came back to me and made me eat my own hat. This is enormously frustrating.

The student union mentioned in the old post above is non other than Saturday night's Big Cheese at Potterrow where yes, I now remember clearly how Matthew coyly chatted up the bouncer, how WeiWei and Alvin blocked the cashier's counter pretending to pay for 2 people, while the other 20 or so of us slipped right through, blending in with the dark shadows and *fill space with your imagination*.

Of course, highly illegal - but now at the end of my university years, with finals coming up in 4 weeks, I think back of all the stupidly smart things my friends and I have done since first year; the list obviously getting much shorter as the years wore on.

The most infamous one I remember was our first trip ever over Easter of year 1 - to Amsterdam. Upon finding out that the train ticket to Keukenhoff(the flower gardens) from Amsterdam was double the price compared to the station before Keukenhoff, we made the ultimate decision that we will buy the half price ticket to the station one stop away from our intended destination.

The plan was simple.

Pretend to sleep - when the ticketman comes around - become all flustered and stutter - hopefully they will let us poor Asians with our multitude of luggage off at the next station(which WILL be Keukenhoff) and kindly point us in the right direction to get back to the station before.

So when the ticketman came around, we executed the plan brilliantly with our very own Vicky scoring Oscar for Best Actress of the year.

Yes, the ticket conductor was ever so kind to see our panicked faces, ever so sympathetic with our high pitched voices and ever so helpful to point us out at the next (ahem, correct) station on how to board another train and backtrack.

Little did he know after thanking him profusely and flashing him with the sweetest smiles ever, we bolted out of the turnstile at Keukenhoff at a100 miles per hour, never looking back.

The same trip saw us using 1 ticket while two people went through the turnstile at the metro in Paris, or 1 person goes through - walks to the automatic exit door - opens the door from the inside - and everyone else troops in FOC. Even in the presence of CCTV cameras.

Brazen were we.

But like I said, what goes around, comes around.

That trip ended with 3 of us losing our cameras. That is a 50% hit list.
(Look, I know I had just recently lost my purse twice and also my camera 2 years ago, but I was NOT in that hitlist. Stop sniggering)

Summer of year 1 saw us in Germany, trying to pull the same tricks.

Thinking that no one checks whether we have tickets or not on our trips on the metro, we decided that there is no point in getting a €0.80 ticket to travel that one way.

Up til the 5th day when 2 ticket conductors boarded the same carriage as us and started asking people for their tickets.

O M G.

I still remember the pure terror and adrenaline that went through my veins as I inched farther and farther away from them.
Problem was - there were 2 of them and they started from either end of the carriage, working their way to the middle.
So caught like a rabbit in headlights, I stood trapped at centre of the carriage, praying that the next station will come soon enough.

One of them tapped me on the shoulder to ask for my ticket.

Don't even ask me where the others were. 10 of us Asians in that one carriage, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible?

Not

A

Chance.

I fumbled around, pretending to look into my bag.

Ting

The doors opened at the next station.

And. I. Fled.

If you had never been a hunted man before, go find an opportunity.

All I saw out of the corner of my eyes were my friends leaping out of the train and...

Fear brought me to a higher level where self protection is key.

So I skedaddled out of the station, taking the stairs 5 at a time, hid behind a bush at the station entrance and peered out with saucer eyes -

Only to be met by another friend who ALSO took the flight of the wanted with wings at his ankles.

So we waited for more to appear.
1 minute
5 minutes
10 minutes
15....

And the other 8 of them traipsed out of the station, downcast and dejected.

For good reason.

Each and everyone of my fantastic friends got fined €40 for not possessing a €0.80 metro ticket.

That sucked. 5 years ago, €40 is a lot. In fact, it is a lot up til now.

Therefore, from 1st year onwards, I made a solemn promise that I would not cheat the system again. Escaping such a fate is my luck and I honestly think I'd had enough of adrenaline rush to last me a lifetime.

But obviously, no.

Something came back to me according to the post on the 21st of July 2008.

If only I did not need to learn how to save someone's life from a community required pneumonia.


I'd still be basking in the glory of my youthful days.

A Letter of Heartfelt Gratitude

You know, I never ever talked at length nor in depth regarding my experience of losing my passport in the States.
All I have ever mentioned was how it got lost and the fact that it was reissued.
Full stop.
But if you take a step back and think of my position, the loss of my passport equates a hard fact - a one way emergency certificate back to London or Kuala Lumpur.

I had spent a good chunk of my time in the last year, organising my electives in the States and Trinidad.
If I had to give that up, I would be.... one word:
Devastated.

Perhaps no one would ever understand how much I looked forward to this 2 months, perhaps no one would ever understand the immense worry I went through and perhaps no one would ever understand how much my passport meant to me at this point in time.

But, with the grace of God and also my parents, it was sorted in no time at all. Perhaps I am lucky, perhaps this was meant to be a test of my faith, OR, perhaps, no wait; DEFINITELY - I was damn unlucky.

But, with the right people at the right place, I owe the reissuing of my passport in record time to: Aunty June.

So I attach my letter of thanks to her and everyone involved, I never felt prouder to be a Malaysian.

Dear Aunty June,

Words cannot describe my feeling of gratitude and appreciation for all you have done for me. When the realization of my lost passport leading to my inability to travel to Trinidad for my elective sunk in, I was in utmost despair and anguish as I had spent the entire year arranging this attachment. This elective is also part of my university course work and if I do not complete it, I would not be able to graduate this coming June. After 5 long years in medical school, not being able to graduate because of a lost passport would be unthinkable, and, extremely dismaying.

When I received a call from the consulate reporting that I can come and collect my newly reissued passport, I was exuberant. How I am going to describe it is that I truly had a skip and a jump of pure joy in every step I took as I made my way downtown to the consulate. Having had sleepless nights because of this, I am unable to convey how deeply thankful I am for yours and Dato' A M's swift action and attention to my case.

Can I just seize this opportunity to extend my profound appreciation to:

a) you

b) Dato' A M,

c) the Consulate General of New York, Encik Zamruni Khalid

d) the immigration officers at the New York consulate: Puan Rahimah Abd Aziz and

e) Encik Harris Mohamed

f) the officers/personnel at the Immigration Office in Kuala Lumpur and Wisma Putra,

who had all gone beyond their call of duty to assist me, a mere Malaysian citizen who was in dire need of help in a country so far away from her own.

I have now come to experience what is truly going beyond one's limits in assisting others out of pure kindness. The staff at the consulate here in New York was incredibly understanding and obliging to my desperate cry for help. Even having someone speak the local 'Manglish' language was comforting to the ear and knowing that they are doing all they can to assist me made me somehow feel that I am indeed not alone in this city of bright lights but foreign people.

Lastly, I consider myself exceptionally fortunate to be able to experience firsthand, the love of the Malaysian government for her citizens, and am very proud of her workers. In true Malaysian spirit, the phrase 'Malaysia Boleh' has come to life before my very own eyes with the speed and dedication of all those involved.

I would once again like to say a huge thank you to every single one of you and am very proud to be part of a country that has such an efficient and loving government who puts the needs of their citizens as their top priority. Yes, I am indeed proud to be an Anak Bangsa Malaysia. May the fiery love of the government for their people continue glowing forever more, a sparkle of definite hope for all Malaysian worldwide.

Yours sincerely,

Rachel Hung

Goodbye My Dearest Grandpa

亲爱的爷爷,

今日你走了.
我会永远永远记得你在厨房煮的排骨,你手拿着一杯XO酒, 你的笑容, 你对我说的每一句说话,你教我做人的道理, 你对我带来不断的开心和温柔...

爷爷,
你这么恨心离开我,不等我今七月回到香港同你谈话,吃宵夜和喝杯酒,一起去饮茶吃点心.你走的那么突然,我的确好不舍得的被你离开...

但,
我知道你应该在一个比较繁荣,却简单,开心的地方,
你也会永远永远收住我在你心里,
你会不断的看着我走过人生路,
直到它日我门在一个好大,好漂亮,种满世界上最美的花花草草...

回合; 见面; 谈话; 吃宵夜; 喝杯酒; 去饮茶吃点心.

我会等待那日子.

永远疼爱你的孙子,
嘉盈.

Wrong Number

The weirdest thing happened to me yesterday.

There I was watching and salivating over Great British Food on the BBC iplayer (since the launch of the ibook, ipod, iphone - suddenly everything becomes i-something) when my handphone suddenly chirped, informing me of a new incoming sms.

07780799xxx - I miss u

Siapa ni?

Txt back - Who are you

07780799xxx - I just have met you for several times

Babi, sure this Jo or Doris again.

Considering that my two great friends once masqueraded as Park Ji-Hwon and did the same thing to me through facebook albeit failing miserably as I knew almost as soon as I read their incredible un-korean like message, I reckon they were having a go at it again.

I mean, to cheat lao niang, you just have to be a class above the rest.

For starters, no tacky Manglish language coming from a supposedly Korean guy whose amazing Facebook picture you find by googling 'Cute Korean Guy'.

Txt back - Hi jo/doris..This is andy's no? (Andy being their other flatmates bf who was visiting)


07780799xxx - No idea


Txt back - Lol. Good try... I miss u all a lot too..


07780799xxx - Sorry I am not this one


Txt back - Ok ok.. We'll laugh about it later.. Jo, go and study, finals coming!

07780799xxx - I just want to tell you i am the one you do not know but fell in


fell into longkang? must be some cinapek.

And beginning to feel bored... Txt back - Ok, ok.

07780799xxx - So may I ask you out

Txt back - Sigh. I'll be seeing u all soon ok.

07780799xxx - How about tomorrow

Seriously membabikan d.
Whether this is real or fake, this guy definitely does not get the message.
At All.
Since I have 1000 free sms on my phone deal, and still watching the chefs battle it out of Great British Food....

Txt back - Aiyo stop playing can. Who this

At this rate, if this is an angmoh, he should really find my use of language weird.
If he is an asian, slightly less so but if he has met me several times and I am Not Malaysian, he should Also still find my use of language weird.
But..

07780799xxx - I have told you the truth it is ok if you doubt

Confirm NOT angmoh

Txt back - Haha... Right...

07780799xxx - I feel so sad

Time to test my theory...

Txt back - So super msian/sporean!


07780799xxx - Ok I am sorry bothered you


Weih, he getting pissed off!


Txt back - No prob! Time to confess who this is


07780799xxx - Again you donot know nothing confess

Another go at testing my theory...

Txt back - Eh of cos i dono la, u tell me my i know lor..

07780799xxx - Jason

Right. Jason. I know NO Jason.
And at this rate, Jason is probably 75% Malaysian or Sporean himself because if he can tolerate that type of language and still think I am the someone he knows, we are of same background.

And also still believing it to be Jo/Doris..

Txt back - Eh, nice name choice

At to which Mr Jason should be pretty pissed off.
But the thickness of his skin is worth saluting...

07780799xxx - May I meet you

Curiosity got better of me and to this question of his I replied...

Txt back - Jason what?


Who cares whether the real girl you trying to kao want to go out with you or not...


07780799xxx - Kiss you


Jason Kiss you?
-_-
Boring lah. Sounds like a total moron. The judges are now testing the food of the North East Chefs, and they look helluva delicious.

Txt back - Ok ok. Going to sleep. Enough playing, go sleep, too late d.

07780799xxx - And xxxx with you

xxxx with you? What the hell does that mean??? Not only a moron but a total noob and idiot.
I don't know no Jason and this conversation is not helping me pass my finals.
That's in 5 weeks! OMG.

So I didn't reply but instead focused on the food that the judges are shoveling into their mouth and getting completely annoyed when one of them complains that the steak is too tender and there is nothing to bite.
What the.... UNCLE... people feed their cows beer and massage them to get Kobe beef that MELTS in your mouth can? YOU COMPLAIN THE STEAK IS TOO TENDER?!

Someone please fire him. Don't know his name, but it's the older one with white hair.

After about 5 mins later... my phone rang.

07780799xxx.....07780799xxx

Me : Hello?






***************S I L E N C E**********************






Me : Hello??







***************S I L E N C E***********************












And the phone went dead.


With a following text that said -





"I am sorry, wrong num."








OMG HOW EMBARRASSING MR JASON!!!!!!!!!!
You got the number of the girl you like WRONG!

And texted all your kisses and xxxx's to another person!

And asked the wrong girl out!!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!


If I am Jason, I'll go out, dig a hole and put my head into it.
Or maybe just jump out of my window.

Poor guy must've been MORTIFIED.

Still, I wish you luck Mr Jason but you need to attend Kao Lui classes 101, where Rule No 1 is - get the girl RIGHT.
The FIRST time.

As an afterthought though, if I ever find out who you are Mr Jason, I think we should really go out.

Deal?

Deal.

Finals

1st Dr Hung in the family.

OMG

I really, really HAVE to graduate.

MDG : Episode 12

Ok, ok. So.

I've watched MDG since Season 1 and think maybe it's time to start blogging about it.

I like the show.

Compared to America's Next Top Model, MDG pales in comparison, but hey, it's a Malaysian production and although I can find endless corners to criticise, from the choice of the participants to the angles of shooting by the cameraman, I find it highly entertaining and a great effort by the local entertainment industry. Most parts are compelling enough, EXCEPT for the part where the participants talk to their parents/families. I am not too interested to know about what conspires between you and your family. Neither do I really enjoy the crying to each other or the advice given by your next of kin.

And also the gym parts.

Aiyo, who wants to see you jogging on a treadmill, or punching in your kick boxing class?!??!
Boring, boring, skip, skip.

But I know it's for the advertisers and the MDG producers haven't got much choice.

Sorry, I digress.

Back to MDG: Episode 12.

With 7 girls left in the competition, this episode focuses on 'Bella lifestyle' with each girl modelling a piece from Royal Selangor's new jewelery range.

Without further ado, let's start my utterly honest opinion of each girl's photo shoot:

Dawn
In fact, let's start from the very beginning. Dawn's mugshot. Clean, fresh, lovely dimples but something can be done about her nose.
Still, let's not be finicky. Dawn is quite your classic girl-next-door look.

During her shoot, Elaine Daly keeps telling Dawn to laugh. Big laugh, big laugh!
I think this picture is honestly hardly 'lifestyle' - with the words 'Royal Selangor' screaming in the background. Also, Dawn seems to blend in with the background - with her gray top and the gray pewter cup, this picture looks very much like something Terminator will come up with. But, she sells her Royal Selangor piece, it is obvious and looks good on her, but I maintain my stand that it is yet again gray (you can argue it's silver - it's almost the same okay) and gray against gray against GRAY.

WAIT! Sorry, got a bit of black down there. Which is right next to gray on the colour spectrum.

One thing that struck me about Dawn is that she looks very much like Hong Kong TVB actress Ada Choi - the hair and face shape is uncanny.


Maybe she is destined for greatness in the TVB entertainment circle.


Natasha
A slight smirk with a glint in the eye. Just enough of 'Yes, I am pretty darn hot' injected into that gaze Natasha gives off in this mugshot picture of hers.

But with her new hairstyle - I don't know why nor how, Natasha's eyes suddenly went from beautiful big, to goldfish gi-normous.

And her shoot. Her Royal Selangor accessory is the best of the lot, it's high street, chiq and very couture at the same time. But, but ... her POSE!
What's with the kaki kangkang!!??!
OMG. It looks like she forgot to sit with her legs close. And the next part where Elaine tells her to imagine she is a prrrincess descending from the staircase - Gawd... Just doesn't work does it? You'd imagine floaty, dreamy like of wafting in between half consciousness and just basking in the splendour of the princess moment but - no, fail max.

Cannot take, cannot take.

Next please.

Pinky
Aiyo.
How did she pass the audition? Fat cheeks, roundish face and flattish nose - reject, reject!! She looks like a girl that's not quite come of age yet.

But thank goodness for Shawn Cutler and also the make up team that gives her a much sophisticated look, adding definition to her face and piling on 10 years to make her look the woman she is supposed to be.

Her Bella lifestyle shoot is in my opinion the best out of them all. The slight peer over the shoulder and hunching of the back at the just correct degree coupled with her nice long legs gives dimension to the whole picture.
Perching on top of the bar top also gives it a sexy edge, top marks!

Juanita

I first came across this name in my Form 5 English literature book - The Pearl. My English teacher used to pronounce it with a J and that would lead to countless amount of snickering between my friends and I that it is pronounced wrongly and that our English teacher is crap.

Well, looking back, I got an A1 for SPM, hence she is NOT crap, in fact, very good, but then again, she pronounced doves as do-ves.

Ergh.
The hair. CHOP IT OFF!!!

Chop it off they did and hence we welcome the rebirth of the fictional Juanita of my secondary school days to the contestant that is every bit a va-va voom model in today's MDG.

The picture looks right at home in a catalogue for selling furniture.
I don't quite like the facial expression that she's giving off; a bit of a triple B - bland, banal and boring. In fact, I'll start triple B-ing everyone who comes across as that.
Her attempts of big laugh by Elaine Daly does not work, parting your lips a quarter of an inch is NOT laughing, my dear Juanita.

But, she shows her piece of accessory well enough and it complements her skin tone, although I maintain my first opinion - this picture is trying to sell the furniture in it.

Sashya
When I initially saw Sashya, I thought, 'Hey, this girl's got spunk!' And so she does with her perfectly sculpted cheekbones that one should kill for. Well, I would. I also like her very dark eyes and eyebrows; man, she's got it going.

Then this shot.
Hmm, nice colour combination of pink, white, black and creamy yellow... but what is she selling? Where is the pendant?
*Squints and zooms in*

0 results.

Kind of defeats the whole purpose of the shoot, no?

But her pose is good, full usage of her limbs gives shape to the rather bland sofa she is on.

(Yes, ANTM that I follow devotedly always talks about giving shape to your pictures and I believe this picture will be given a thumbs up by Tyra Banks herself)

Ming

The first impression I got was, her face is shaped like an egg. Smooth and oval, Ming comes across exactly like a china-doll Gong Li version in an extremely good way.

Quite a change from your classic stereotypical chiseled features of the models you see nowadays.

She has my vote as best looking of the lot.

This is an absolutely stunning picture. Maybe it's the photoshop effects, maybe it's the colour and ethereal lines, maybe it's the reflection of her on the other side of the glass, but this picture is mindlessly beautiful. I wish I had a picture like that.

Instead, I have this. Similar concept but it lacks the dreaminess and of course, pretty Ming in it.

However, if you throw this picture of Ming into the context of 'lifestyle', this er... does not quite make the cut. HOW is it lifestyle? In fact, why did they take a picture of her like that as a lifestyle shot?!

So this is not Ming's fault but the fault of the MDG people.

Denezia
Not much of cheekbones nor sharp nose, Denezia's looks are pretty standard. But I have to say she got uglier and uglier as the series wore on.

I mean, don't judge me for judging her. There is something wrong with her mouth but thank goodness it is completely hidden when she smiles. Of course, compared to the general population, Denezia is pretty, but compared to the other contestants - sorry. However, throughout the series, she comes across as genuinely nice and friendly. I'd want Denezia to be my friend if I had to pick one among them all.

This. Is. A. Rubbish. Photo.

WHAT, may I so kindly ask, WHAT is this picture trying to portray?

Lifestyle? No.
Royal Selangor ware? Double No. Not even a bit of it can be seen.
Pretty face? Triple B.

Even I can do this shot lorh.


Just smile only wert.
So difficult meh?

Only that in Denezia's shot uses a better camera and a nicer background (gray, yet again) and all she is doing is semi laughing!!!!

I cannot even comment on whether it is good or bad, as it is just completely irrelevant whatsoever to the theme of the photoshoot.


And at the end of the episode 12, the girls start this huge argument about who says that Natasha paid the private hospital off to write her report, and that her mother can see her for 3 hours each day, and how they miss home et cetera et cetera.

Haih.

Think of the poor students who study overseas or those who work away from home and don't see their families for over a year. That's 52 weeks. And you guys are there for..............



..............




..............




..............







10 weeks.


-_-




Time to grow up people.

As an end note, my favourite moment of the entire episode is watching the photographer George Ting shoot.

His clothes are classic!

Strappy Sandles.
Old T-Shirt.
Baggy 3/4 cargo pants.
1000-dollar camera.

And I bet he makes a gazillions ringgit per shoot despite wearing a RM 10 outfit.

How unfair lucky.