More on life and its ironies

My mum is well. She is in her fourth day of an intensive physio and occupational therapy program at a rehab hospital. She is enjoying the sessions and has made some new friends who have helped her see things in a new perspective, especially her room-mate: a thirty-something year old woman who has just been diagnosed with MS. In a sad (yet slightly ironic) twist of fate, another event that has provoked much reflection among the family has been the death of one of the doctors who was looking after my mum during her time in hospital. A cardiologist, he died of a sudden heart attack last weekend - his wife sent a letter to all his patients informing us of what had happened. For some reason, it feels a little close to home for me. I do feel very sorry for her loss too, and sad that he was not able to be helped: in the way that he has helped so many others. C'est la vie..

And now I bore you with the logistics of my life. I have decided to take up the University's gracious offer of deferring my exams. Sort of. I actually have four exams - two written and two prac exams. I am going to do the prac exams next week with the rest of my cohort and am deferring the written ones, which are going to be held again at the end of January (!). I told my PBL group and couldn't believe the hostile reaction of one of my group members - she felt so personally threatened by the prospect of someone having that extra time to study! I felt like saying to her "oh grow up child, I'm not asking for you permission!". Le sigh. I'm still undecided as to what to do with the research project, but will probably contact the supervisor soon to decline it I think. As for Fiji, my dad suggested that I go for two weeks rather than four, straight after exams.. just to get away from things, if anything. I like the idea of compromise, but I don't want to tempt fate and leave because I feel like something may happen while I'm gone. Guess I'll give it a few more days before deciding for sure.

Don't know how to end this post, usually I'll add some lyrics, but there are no songs for my mood this evening. So instead, something a bit more sinister, that I feel captures a bit of my paranoia and cautiousness (it's a bit long, but fans of Alice in Wonderland will appreciate it):

'O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
The Walrus did beseech.
'A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head --
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat --
And this was odd, because, you know,
Thay hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And think and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more --
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And the they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come,' the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing wax --
Of cabbages -- and kings --
And why the sea is boiling hot --
And whether pigs have wings.'

'But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
'Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!'
'No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

'A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
'Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed --
Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.'

'But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue,
'After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!'
'The night is fine,' the Walrus said,
'Do you admire the view?

'It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
'Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf --
I've had to ask you twice!'

'It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread to thick!'

'I weep for you,' the Walrus said;
'I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

'O Oyster,' said the Carpenter,
'You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none --
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one."

~ "The Walrus and the Carpenter", C.S. Lewis

Above everything, I am...

A daughter? A sister? A distant relative? A best friend? A casual buddy? A medical student? A member of PBL study Group E? A first aid officer? An employee at a pharmacy? A research assistant? A traveller? A random member of society who has made a commitment to serve?

I'm not really sure right now, but my situation demands that I make a decision soon.

Last week, my mum had another stroke. She was taken to the hospital, where, amongst other things, an MRI was ordered. She never made it to the MRI though because out of no where, she started to feel an uncomfortable crushing tightness in her chest, before throwing up, and then suddenly losing consciousness. An ECG and some blood tests indicated a STEMI -- an angiogram further revealed an occluded left descending coronary artery. Two stents were put in, followed by a recovery period in ICU, where she had two episodes of tonic-clonic seizures that night.

We have a saying in Islam: "Alhamdulillah". It literally means "Thank God", but in actual fact the sayer is implying "Thank God, for and in spite of, everything". Alhamdulillah for the blessings and the misfortunes. Alhamdulillah she is still alive. We use this term to accept that which we've been granted and affirm our belief in there being greater wisdom in what happens to us, beyond that which we can foresee.

More imminently and practically (for yours truly, selfishly), I have my end of year exams in three weeks' time; after which, I have a month-long elective in Fiji, completely organised and paid for... then a very exciting research project that I was going to participate in and co-publish which, again, took a lot of time and energy to organise... and then, well you get the point. I won't lie - I'm greedy - I want to have my cake and eat it too. But, in light of the circumstances, this is becoming a seemingly impossible ambition. Furthermore, the University has kindly granted me the opportunity to defer my exams until a more suitable time. On the one hand, I just want to attempt these exams and get whatever mark I'm given, at the risk of failing altogether - but this will leave me with ample time in my holiday break to slot my various activities in. On the other hand, oh to not have to worry about exams for a little while later and just be able to concentrate on being with my family is such a wonderful relief - even if it means having to cancel my plans for Fiji and research in the holidays, as I will be studying for my deferred exams! The answer seems obvious, but that's the conundrum - what IS the right answer?!

Above everything, I am... confused and unsure of what to do.

Life happens when you least expect it

Or so the saying goes...

Two weeks ago my mum had a stroke. My mum is a healthy 47 year old, non-smoker, non-drinker, health-food junkie, exercise-doer. As far as risk factors are concerned she has none. But her's wasn't a typical stroke - it was caused by a spontaneous internal carotid artery dissection, which affected the right side of her brain and manifested in speech disturbances and left upper body weakness. Just like that, so unannounced. One minute we were making plans for what to do on the weekend; come the weekend, we found ourselves confused and bewildered around a bed in the stroke unit of our local hospital. I've been meaning to blog for a while but I've just been so damn busy between hospital visits; my petty attempts to keep up with uni work; contribute what I can towards housework; answer the bloody phone with people (mostly family and friends from overseas) wanting to know what happened; etc, etc. And amongst all the kerfuffle, incredulously, my friends are demanding to know why I can't go out for dinner, attend the Med Ball, come to their farewell party, watch a movie, grab a coffee, reply to their text messages, phone calls, emails, blah, blah.. which makes me think, have I been all-consumed by this and wallowing too much in self-pity? Genuine empathy is a really hard thing to feel because, quite simply, unless you're there and it's happened to you - you don't know what it's like. And so I ask myself with this newly-found insight: is it reasonable to even expect it? People have such short attention spans anyway (either that or they weren't listening to you in the first place) - why even bother trying to explain things when they're going to miss the point anyway. Anyway, enough pulling my hair out.

From an educational point of view, this experience has been a combination of terribly interesting and terribly frightening. When the neurologist told my parents and I the diagnosis, my parents responded as though she'd announced "oh it's just a cold" whereas I gasped in horror. Morbid as this is, sometimes I think, "OmG just die already - get it over and done with and that way I don't have to spend the rest of my life worrying about all the terrible things that can happen to you!!". Clearly I'm a little tired and world-weary. But alas, life goes on. And, perhaps, that's the point that I'm missing, with everyone's reactions around me? Bah humbug!

Irked

Today, I spent the morning on prac at the morgue. I went in with no feelings of apprehension or fear, but came out somewhat irked and paranoid. It wasn't the sights or the stench or that sense of death in the air; it was the case report at the end of each dissection table that told the story of how each body came to be. Suicide was the order of the day today - a cocktail of drugs and alcohol. Not pretty. Not pretty at all. I'm hazarding a guess in saying this, but I think if anyone was half-heartedly contemplating suicide; a trip to the morgue would potentially sway them otherwise (probably not the case for someone who'd already made up their mind though). From an educational point of view: a totally surreal and priceless way to learn anatomy. I stayed behind when my classmates left, to watch the autopsy of a neonate - the organs were tiny but eerily pristine and perfect. Kind of like microanatomy. Again though, its story was so sad - I wish I could share it with you. Such a fine line between life and death - I never realised how fine it was until today. Two days ago this person was alive; today they are not. The weirdest feeling perhaps, was that of walking out into the sparkling daylight at the end of the prac and seeing live people walking down the street. Anyway, I need to go have a long shower - the scent of death has permeated my skin.

The Greener Grass

Haven't blogged in a little while - sorry about that. Last week I found out that a few of my friends who had applied for med this year had been unsuccessful in obtaining interviews. I was quite shocked at this outcome for two people in particular - I was *so* sure that both would not only get interviews, but also be offered places straight away. I guess it's difficult to expect that the faith you have in someone else's potential will be transferred to a grueling selection committee. Still, I was *so* sure...

In light of these events, "gratitude" has been the order of my day recently. Anyone who's been through the medical school application process will attest to the ruthlessness of the high-stakes-all-or-none nature of the process. The more it means to you, the more stressful it is. We all jump into the pool, all too aware that we may be spat out again, just like that. Difficult thing to realise though is the implications and actual reality of being rejected; if you're lucky enough to be invited to stay in the water from your first application. I'm trying really hard to convey a sense of empathy and understanding to these friends who weren't accepted this time 'round - but I feel like I'm failing miserably. Standing on the greener grass makes every word I say sound less and less genuine or convincing. Not sure what else I can do?

I reflect back on this time, two years ago - when under the same moons of this Holy Month (it's currently Ramadan in the Islamic calendar) - I prayed and prayed that I would be accepted into the program if God in His wisdom knew that it was the right path for me to take; and for strength to accept a rejection if it was not. On being accepted into the program of course, all the prayers were by and large forgotten - it was I who achieved this, not some Divine Being. As the months went on, I started to take for granted how fortunate I was to be accepted first time 'round. But now I feel like I'm starting to regain some of that initial gratitude that I felt and paying due recognition to the Help that I received. At the same time, two years in, I've also come to realise that first-time acceptance isn't necessarily a great thing to have happpen, particularly if you've come straight out of high-school --> undergrad --> med school. I'm envious beyong words at those students with PhDs; 10 years nursing experience in a humanitarian aid-work setting; 15 years experience as parents; 5 years experience as teachers; the list is endless. I get pretty defensive when it's assumed that I have no "life experience" - because that's not entirely true either - but really, nothing is official or noteworthy. So yeah, all in all, I've come to remember how lucky I am that I was accepted first time 'round; but also realise the value of having an extra year or two or ten, while you are accepted, to do something amazing with your life... until you're finally asked to jump into the pool and stay :-)

10, 9, 8....

The count-down begins: we only have 10 more PBL weeks left for this year (out of 32). Oh my! I can't believe it's August already either :-O This month I farewell my beloved neuro block and welcome (half-heartedly) the upcoming musculoskeletal block. If I have one ambition, it's to remember the carpal bones without a bloody accompanying acronym!! I also hope we learn how to stabilise #ed limbs with a plaster cast - I've always wanted to learn that! One thing we learnt how to do during neuro block, which I thought was tres cool, was lumbar punctures :-S In my nerdy-neuro-obsessed mind, there's something creepy about gaining access to such a well-guarded area... as a body-fluid, CSF is so sacred; I feel like we shouldn't ever see it (and if we do it's either urgent - or ominous if it's coming out of the nose/ears post-head injury). *Shudder*.

Over the past week or so, I've reinitiated attempts to fulfill my New Year's resolutions - to exercise more and eat healthier foods. I was going very well until about April when, after my sister's wedding, I saw no need to try to fit into a size 8 dress. Now I'm back into it, for fitness and fun, more than anything else really. For now I'm just going to the gym and doing my own thing - treadmill, bike, cross-trainer - because whilst I like the idea of enrolling in an organised sport program, I think I'm too competitive to enjoy anything like that on its own merit :-S

What else has been happening? Not much really. I wish I had an exciting story to share with you about an epic adventure or the like. I guess I'm just quite content with the impeding end to what's been a long and mentally-draining year. If all goes well, it's my final year of full-time theoretical/didactic studies and I'm really looking forward to being in a practical learning environment. Closer to then, I guess I have a few exciting things coming up this month, with the City2Surf next Sunday (which I'm going to be on St John's First Aid duty for); completing the various first aid and life-support courses that I wrote about as part of my St John's training throughout this month; my sister's birthday on the 19th; and the beginning of the holy Islamic month of fasting, Ramadan, which will start on the 21st or 22nd (depending on the moon).

Anyway, hope the week is a good one! :-D

Control

Over the past few days I've been reassessing my approach to life and to what extent I feel I have command over the 24 hours that I have each day to use. Unfortunately, for some reason or another, it seems to me that things are heading in the way of the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics - in essence, that my life is becoming increasingly disorganised. There isn't one particular thing that I can use to illustrate this point; because it really is a combination of factors that are contributing to this down-ward spiral. When it comes down to it; the failure that I see on my part is lack of self-discipline. I've become quite accustomed to not having to account for the way that I'm spending my time (particularly since leaving high school all those years ago) and in particular, to the fact that I don't really owe anyone anything, as far as dedication of time spent. But of course, with this privilege, comes responsibility. So I want to start being a bit more responsible about how I'm spending my time.

Implications? Dedicating more time spent exercising, hanging out with the family, getting into healthier eating and sleeping habits.

I'm control-freak by nature... I feel like things are slipping. Let's see what I can do to stop that :-S