I've always been one to follow my instincts. When I was younger, it was more of a 'I think it is' sort of feeling but it always came hand in hand with it's very clingy sibling 'but I don't dare to follow through'. And because of that, I've always had to rely on other people to help point it out and give me the courage to follow through. As my age crept along, so did my courage. Not exponentially, but at a rapid enough rate I would say, and I learnt to rely more and more on myself to trust my instincts.

That being said, how do i make someone else believe that my instincts are what have brought me through all the rough patches in my life? They might argue that I am not seeing both sides of the coin. That I'm so instinctively guided by what I feel that I am blinded to other possibilities and opportunities. That I'm being impulsive and compulsive all at once. But would I rather rationalize and agonize over a decision that I already know deep down i've already made? In my head, I would rather save my time and effort into executing my instincts instead of constantly questioning it. Because, be honest, we all know that our first gut feel is usually the correct one.

I cannot explain or force my instincts upon others, but I can only wish for them to respect it.

I never go into details. And I won't begin now. So please, don't expect me to change my mind because in your head, you think i am wrong.

how cliched is it when we watch movies and the hero/heroine goes through a conflict of sorts where the heart and the mind don't agree. externally we scoff and sneer saying how hard is it to make a decision and then stick by it. and then we're treated to a montage of the passage of time for the said hero/heroine and watch as they go through their life living out their decision with the occasional twinge of longing and regret but then pushing through and ultimately, through a clever twist of fate - or should i say plot - the hero/heroine eventually gets what he/she actually wanted in the first place.

the conflict of the mind and heart is one that i've never been able to conquer. my mind will always be the rational one that knows all the right things to do and how to go about it. it will win out and i would follow it's rules diligently for a good few days, but, like the said hero/heroine, i'll have the twinge of longing and regret which will ultimately lead to my regression and fallback to what my heart wants. even though i know it's not the right decision.

i find it very hard to stick with the decisions i've made - or at least, the decisions my mind has made. there will always be this little nagging part that goes 'what if' and then i'll start wondering about whether i should have gone down the other path instead. and here comes the tug of war. i'll be one foot in each doorway and never heading anywhere. the battle in my head has been getting worse of late. as i'm nearing the age where many of my friends are either settled in life, or are beginning to settle. not the bad kind of settle, but the good kind. the kind where they know where their life is headed from this moment on and all they've got to do now, is put the plough to the soil and just plod on.

but that being said. do i just want to plod on? don't i want to run and skip and hop and jump through my life? don't i want to always wonder and question and constantly look out for new things to see and do and live through? if i make concrete decisions to settle and move on in life living it as 'my mind sees fit' then won't i get to live like how my heart wants to live? with unbridled passion and zest?

there has got to be a way. even if it's unconventional and not exactly the way society conforms to. i've never lived life the way i was supposed to. and maybe that's the way it should be. 

and here i go again.

i'm a messy person.

i've got a messy room.
my bed is constantly unmade, except for when i know my mum is coming to visit.
i've got a messy dressing table.
makeup strewn whichever way. makes it easier to reach for instead of having to dig around.
i've got an extremely messy closet.
clothes stacked all the way up to mars. i'm always finding little surprises of clothes i've not seen for months.
i've got messy hair.
untameable in fact. not without help from serums and taming creams. it still manages to look unruly even after blowing it to within an inch of it's life.

but i love cleaning.

tidying up. rearranging stuff. straightening askewed items.

but it always gets messy again. no matter how hard i try to stay neat.

and it's weird. because i hate being messy. i hate untidiness. and i hate things out of order.

my life is one big 'huh?'

i can never really figure out what i want. my head and heart can never agree. as with most people, i'm sure. is it normal to feel lost this often?

maps. GPS. street signs. relayed directions.

we all have help finding where to go. but which way is the right way? the beaten path is always an easy answer. just following in another person's footsteps. to walk on the same trampled and beatened down path that will lead us a safer, satisfactory place.

but what if i don't want to? who makes these paths? what makes it the right path in the first place? who decides these things?

i don't just want to follow blindly. i need to know. i need to question.

but what if i don't like the answer? do i still follow? or do i branch out and make my own path?
how do i answer this question?

ever been in a situation where you know it's too good to be true? where everything doesn't seem possible? where you're always waiting for the other shoe to drop? story of my life.

i've never fully lived. not really. i'm always too worried about what may happen or whether what i'm going through is real.

and for the last 2 months, everything has probably been a lie. the emotions, the excitement, the expectation. we're all guilty of being caught up in the moment and letting it all just carry on without letting it sink in fully. we hope that it would last, but ultimately, it never does.

the other shoe always drops.

but hope is never far away. we hope for a better day, we hope that it wouldn't bother us, we hope that time will heal all wounds. and hope, is what keeps us going. somehow, it's the one thing that we never give up on. if all else fails, there's always hope. because what we don't know, carries a promise. we can never really say that everything will turn out bad unless we know it. and with hope, we will never know.

and with hope, we will constantly put ourselves out there. to receive and to give. to see and to be seen. to love and to be loved. out heart will never tire of hope, or love. even though right now, we may be shattered and torn and hurt; time, hope and love will heal all brokenness.

so here i am, asking Time, Hope and Love, to heal me.

meeting new people is always a bit tricky. it's very much a battle of wits where one's trying to figure out the other before the other does. a bit of a tug of war. i give you this much information about me, now let's see how much you give back. i don't think it's always been that way with me. from ever since i could remember, it was always very easy to make friends because i was so outgoing and outspoken. i'd be the first to approach people, i'd be the first to give an opinion, i'd be the one to laugh the loudest. i'd always be the one to give. and i always thought it was me being friendly. but after encountering some people like that, i've come to realise that it might all just be a facade. true, they're very interesting to be around, but after a while, it becomes very forced and contrived. insecurities, no matter how well hidden, will always surface.

i've become less of an extrovert of late. more willing to let people come to me instead of me to them. i don't have to be the obvious livewire of the party anymore. people watching has now become a favourite past time for me. meaningful conversations have taken center stage now and getting to know people instead of just meeting them have become essential to me.

it's easy to feel alone in a roomful of people. you may think that you're surrounded by people you are acquainted with. but it's very lonely when you come to realise that there's only so much you know about them. that's what i've been feeling of late. i look through my facebook friend's list and wonder...how many of these people do i actually have meaningful relationships with? i've been questioning myself a lot of late, thinking of how many people i've let slip over the years and how i haven't been the greatest at maintaining friendships. i find myself guarded after the initial introduction. after giving, i tend to hold back and always wanting to keep the ball in my court. selfish.

i'm trying my best now at rectifying the situation. my sister tells me to go out and meet new people. but i think i should stick to the ones i have right now, and be a better friend.

here it is. the last mad dash for the finish line. the flags of victory are so close i swear, all i have to do is reach out and they'll be in my hands.

it has been a long, yet extremely fast-paced year of housemanship. i remember being so overwhelmed by the change and the expectations that were all in my head, that i broke down even before day one was over. it had all seemed so new. so different. i was sure i wouldn't be able to keep up. wouldn't be able to live up to the expectations made of me. i was so scared. i would wake up every morning worried about what the day would bring. it didn't help being in a foreign land. having had to make friends and colleagues and work at the same time. would these new-found acquaintances help me when i ask them to? out of obligation perhaps? or maybe just out of irritation so that i would stop bugging them? how alone i felt for the longest time. but God was good. He knew how to make things fit and happen in His time. i made good friends. and i got better. it's true what they say, it's all a matter of getting used to it. get a routine flowing and it will all come naturally.

12 months of getting used to housemanship.

and now it's time to let it go. i've reached the top of the houseman foodchain. a 'senior' houseman. someone the newer housemen ask for help and turn to when they need advice.

so the road leads me now to that of being a medical officer. just a tiny leap from a houseman, but what a huge difference in responsibility. and i'll have to start from the bottom again. it's a never ending cycle. we get to the top of one pyramid only to realise there are tons more to conquer and climb. new expectations, new standards, new responsibilities.

it's the last mad dash to the finish line, but i just want to slow it down a bit and not be too eager to reach it.

today's gonna be a good day.

because i said so.

i was just thinking to myself last night and going through the events of the last month. and suddenly it hit. this time last month, i was feeling restless and craving for something different. i remember putting up on facebook that i needed a change. and then these barrage of change just decided to bulldoze itself into my life.

the power of self proclamation.

so, in that spirit, i'm going to proclaim, that today, tonight, tomorrow and for the unforeseeable future ahead, will be good.

following the call of my tummy, a friend and i headed towards clarke quay to appease the rumbling of our digestive systems. it was after work and we wanted to catch up so we decided to go window shopping and take in a bit of dinner. after deciding on a salad and a pizza to share, we got down to talking.

she and i go quite a way back to when we were uni students almost 10 years ago. after completing part 1 of our studies, she headed off to the UK while i jetted down under to Australia. we didn't quite keep in touch over that time and when i started work in Singapore, she was really the furthest thing away from my mind. so it was a pleasant surprise to see her working alongside me in KK hospital when i finally got there. 

it had really been too long since we had talked and it was eye-opening to see how much we've both grown and how far each of us had gone.

in the midst of masticating our pizza and crunching on our salad, she casually asked if i had found a church to attend since coming to Singapore. with a twinge of guilt in my voice, i admitted that i hadn't. mainly due to time and work. but i know that's no excuse. i told her i basically didn't put much effort into really searching for one. i had given up after trying out a few. most of which i had disliked due to the fact that their services and intentions had gotten too 'commercial' of late. bookings had to be made to get into church. queues outside the building hoping to get in. pushing the church members to 'give' to God by investing all their money in the church building fund. 'encouraging' the youth to only date within the church and within the same bible study group as not to be distracted by thoughts when they're not around. it's been a worrying trend, in my opinion and she shared the same views. she mentioned that even back home, her parents left their home church as it was getting too mainstream and too into the world. then she said that that was the reason why she wasn't a Christian anymore. and the slice of pizza that i was directing into my open mouth stopped. and my mouth remained open in shock. did i hear right? maybe the music's too loud. come again? and she repeated what i was afraid she had said. i didn't ask her why. but it pained me to see that the church is starting to push God's people away by conforming to the world. i myself have long felt that these so-called 'leaders' ought to be examined for their beliefs and their intentions when it came to leading God's people. but i never ever doubted my faith in God or His love for me. i'd like to think that i have a different sort of relationship with God. one that is not determined by what other people say it should be. but one that is comforting to me and is suitable for me. it may seem selfish and slightly dumb....but it works for me.

i just hope that one day she will find out that God is still there and is still waiting for her.

wake up calls are never easy. be it in the literal or figurative sense.

every morning, i'd hit the snooze button on my phone alarm at least twice before i decide to roll out of bed and into the toilet. and when i was back home in KL and auntie allie would knock on my door hollering at me to wake up, i'd yell at her to leave me alone and come back later so that i could catch a few more elusive zzz's. daddy also isn't foreign to the waking up his daughters spiel. every saturday morning, he'd start banging on our doors, bugging us to wake up so that we could all go for breakfast of roti canai and teh tarik.

in my life, wake up calls are essential. and as you can tell, i've become so dependant on my wake up calls that, without one, i'd basically sleep right through everything. quite literally. this month, has been chockful of wake up calls. in my personal, professional, and spiritual life.

the sandman has been hard at work with me, keeping me slumbering away. and i think it's time for him to retire or at least take a break.

work has been as per normal, but the future of my work now is a bit in limbo as higher powers mess up our, mere mortals' fate. i'm talking in the literal sense, not figurative. God, i'm sure has been hard at work making sure that things go according to His will. but the higher powers in the workforce here, have been screwing up my life to no end.

first, i discover, that my registration application papers were filed late, hence, not procuring a registration for me for the coming work year and which leads to me not knowing where i will be posted to next as a Medical Officer or when i'll be able to start work. i should have just applied for no paid leave straight up.
then, i find out, that i have to pay income tax to this little island. no problems right? that would be the case, except for the fact that the deadline to file the income tax has lapsed. how did i not know this? because the same higher powers that were supposed to look after me by making sure of my livelihood next year, failed to mail me the letter sent to them, as they're my employers, that details my income tax submission. great.

last night, i swear, i was on the verge of a massive meltdown. apart from storming out of my room to pick my housemate's brain as to how i'm going to rectify all these cock-ups, i snapped like a twig bent too far into two. my poor housemate had just gotten back from Bali and i didn't even say hi to him before i launched into my tirade of misfortune.

but as i said, wake up calls are essential to me. this is a huge one. i'm no longer gonna wallow in self-pity and act piteously. screw this. i'm stronger than this. much stronger. and it's time for this sleeping giantess to wake up.

i'm listening to an album by a young singer by the name of Dionne Bromfield, who is also known as Amy Winehouse's goddaughter. the album is a mixture of some oldies and some original songs. the common thread that seems to hold the seams of the album together is the wishful thinking of young love. she sings of the love you find at the playground while playing hopscotch with your girlfriends and every so often, sneak a peek at the group of boys over on the other side of the playground playing tag. you catch the eye of the boy you like and you smile a secret smile. one that only you and him can decipher. your girlfriends know and giggle alongside you when you excitedly tell them that the two of you made eye contact. she also sings of caution passed down by the older generation. when a mother tries to spare her child of the heartache that she knows would follow her no matter what. for that is the destiny of a woman. she will live her life with her heart on her sleeve.

how simple it all seemed back then. when we were younger, more naive and less cautious with our heart. when holding hands would be enough to give you a high that would last days. but sooner, rather than later, we all have to get our hearts broken. the day will come when he no longer shows up to the playground and you wonder. and you wait. anxiously. you don't know what happened. and you question yourself. did i do something wrong? does he not like me anymore? did that other girl with the pretty braids catch his eye? it all seems to simple. he sees a prettier girl and that's that. young children can be very cruel. they're too young to understand tact and politeness and will just follow their gut instinct wherever it calls them. no rules, no responsibilities.

and no matter how many times our mothers caution us, in the heat of the rush of hormones and happy highs, we throw her cautions to the wind. heedless to the fact that she speaks from experience and wisdom that can only come from similar occasions. she too was young once and she might have made the same mistakes. not wanting us to see the same fate, out of immense love, she tries to save us from ourselves. but it is always futile.

awkward moments are probably the least favourite situations a person can be in. be it at work, in their personal lives, with strangers and even with their loved ones. i myself have had my fair share of awkward moments. some people may think that to avoid awkward moments, one just has to avoid them and let it blow over by itself. but i, on the other hand, feel that awkward moments should be ridden out like pain. of course, there are painkillers you can take to ease or even numb the pain. but that leads to dependance and addiction. but if you ride through the pain, not only would you be able to handle the pain better if it comes back, you'll also learn how to block it out and eventually live with it until it subsides on it's own. that's what awkward moments are like for me. i'd rather go through them sooner rather than later and i think it's a pretty darn good philosophy.

hahaha...yes lyn, thank you very much for me new header. =)

Dear gracielau,

I think your little sister should deserve some credit for taking the effort and time (well, not much time really) to draw you a nice blog header, and put it up for you while you're working in the Hospital :)

Say thank you!

<3, Lyn

from the little that i remember of last night, there's this little niggling thought at the back of my head. the club, in all it's glory was as packed as it usually is. sweaty bodies writhing up against each other on the dance floor. scantily clad women all vying for the attention of every man in the room. and in the little cocoon of otherworldliness that people escape to, a sign on the monitor would flash every once in a while, jolting people back to reality.

LOVER or MOLESTER
DANCING or STEALING

there were another 2 phrases which escape me at this point, but they were along the same vein. and it got me thinking. something i'm sure not many people want to do when they're clubbing and all out trying to have a good time. we escape to this place and search for something that would ease the burdens of the everyday humdrum. women allow themselves to be touched and held by men who then hardly know. men seize the opportunity to draw close physically to these women as they know that for tonight, and if they're lucky, a few more nights, there aren't any holds barred. those that don't pique the fancy of the men in the club wonder and question whether there's something wrong with them, and drop their guard even more. and when the hint of interest comes their way, they grab it and cling on with their fingernails. i see couples dancing around me, and i wonder, how many of them are lovers and how many are just opportunists?

i see a group of people, slightly younger than me. and the first thing that hit me was the amount of bottles on their table. they were, at most, a group of 10 and there were at least 5 bottles on their table. and what struck me was how they were hitting back drinks like there was no tomorrow. it was as though they were racing to see who gets drunk first. the girls were happily giggling away, drunkenly swaying to the music while the guys were mechanically drinking their way to liver hell.

i'm in no way being self righteous about drinking, as i indulge in a few shots and cocktails ever so often, but maybe now i'll be a bit more mindful when it comes to the consequences of this escape.

whether these little reminders of reality actually get through to these people to remember to be safe while having fun, it's a different matter. but it reassures me that at least some people know that the reality of escaping can be very dangerous.

i woke up this morning and gingerly placed my feet on the ground. for some reason, the soles of my feet felt raw and tingly. like the top layer of skin had been sandpapered off and it was all sensitive. and then i stretched and i swear, i could hear my muscles groan in complaint at being pulled unnecessarily. i put on my glasses and went to brush my teeth. i blearily peeked at my face in the mirror and was satisfied to see that i had the decency to wipe off all my makeup before tumbling to bed early this morning. i brushed my teeth and hopped into the shower to wake myself up. and when the water hit me aching body, suddenly it wasn't just aching, it was stinging all over! wake up i did, alright. looked all over and found mini cuts and bruises all over my legs and arms. and i have no idea where they came from!

last night must have been THAT good.

so anyway, i made a promise to myself that i would CLEAN the house, do my LAUNDRY and sort out my CLOSET today. i started with laundry. never, ever let 2 weeks worth of laundry to pile up. it's overwhelming! good part is that i actually made FULL use of my wardrobe. especially when it came to undergarments. i never knew i had so much. after i put the first load in, i decided that it was time to clean the house. but i grew lazy and i called up my landlord's maid. *shrug* she does it so much better and all i have to deal with is her body odour lingering in the air after she's done. nothing a little air freshener can't fix. so i then tackled my closet. i would have taken a picture of a before and after shot, but that would require effort and i just forgot la. but i swear i have no idea where half of these come from. i'm digging right to the back of my closet and i'm pulling out clothes that are HIDEOUS! where the heck do these things come from?! i really do not remember buying any of these. then i realise, oh wait, they're some of the clothes my mom left behind for herself. what a relief! i thought i had gone on some drunken shopping spree that i had no recollection of. so i packed up all the clothes that i never wear and i bundled them up into a spare suitcase and voila! i've got extra closet space! very essential after going shopping with the little sister over my last break back home and buying a ton of clothes in a span of 2 hours.

so the checklist goes:
1. laundry - check
2. clean the house - check
3. sort out my closet - check.

now i think i need to go sort out my shoes. way huger task. way, way huger task.

when i was a little girl, the sound of an ambulance siren would make my heart race and i would instantly crane my neck and excitedly look around to see that telltale white van with the red and blue lights flashing overhead. it would pique my curiosity no end. were they rushing to or from an emergency? was there an accident somewhere? is the patient already inside, fighting for his life? did anyone die?

these questions never really bothered me much back then. it was all part of game. something exciting to break the monotony of everyday life. a glamourous thing that was so much more interesting than my own life. it would hold my interest for 5, maybe 10 minutes, wondering if they managed to get to the hospital on time. scenes from medical tv shows would flash across my mind, piecing together a story that was entirely made up in my head and it would then be forgotten. never knowing the outcome, didn't really bother me. i guess i somehow knew that it wouldn't affect me, so why bother?

now, everytime i hear the wail of an ambulance siren, my heart still races. but for a different reason.

the fear of a person's life is now very real. everyday, the reality of hospital life sinks in deeper, cementing itself into my very soul. people DO die. and it does matter or not whether they make it. lives are affected, even if it's not the excited little girl's life back then. the tragedy of losing someone dear is much too tangible to be counted as a fleeting and expected part of life. the loss of a child before it's even born, the passing of an elderly woman while undergoing a procedure to help extend her life, the devastation of bad news when it's conveyed. all brings to mind that we never really understand what's going on around us or how God deals your hand.

the sound of a siren just broke the morning silence. from the way the tires are skidding on the slippery road tells me that it's pretty serious. not 2 minutes has passed and there's a code blue announcement. a child has stopped breathing in the emergency department.

i can still feel my heart racing.

the best part of being in a maternity hospital and in an obstetric ward, is that i get to hold newborn babies.

was feeling forlorn and under the weather when i passed by the nursery and saw little bundles of pink and blue all wrapped up tight. instant melting moment. i couldn't stop myself, i went into the nursery, washed my hands and picked up the most adorable little bundle of gooey, soft, warm and sweet smelling thing in the world.

then he started crying.

and he wouldn't stop.

no matter how much i rocked him. and cooed him. and patted him. HE JUST WOULDN'T STOP! i was determined. i would make him stop! i think some reflex in me kicked in. and i was like...eh...if now cannot even make baby stop crying, what say next time when it's your own kid!? ok...so i was determined to make him stop. i sung to him. i swayed myself like a freaking rocking chair. i let him suck on my pinky. i did everything short of letting him breastfeed! and then i did it. i made him stop. and you know what did it?

giving him back to his mother.

today is seriously shaping up to be a horrible one.

went to bed last night vowing to make today a happy one. where i pull myself out of the doldrums and into the sunshine.

i guess Murphy really is my best friend.

here's what happened:
1. i woke up late. i distinctly remember pressing the snooze button when my alarm went off at 6, only to find that the next time i opened my eyes, it was 6.53. BLOODY HELL! i literally leapt out of bed, rushed to the toilet and in record time was in my clothes, frantically putting on my makeup. it's a good thing i had already picked out what to wear last night and they were just tossed on my bed's bedframe.

but it's ok. i managed to reach work at 7.15. which isn't late at all. so i was still bright-eyed and bushy tailed. eager to await the good things that will come my way and that all is right with the world. my hair looked good today, no more breakouts, i managed to get a lift to work. yada, yada, yada.

2. got to work later than my MO to find that she had already rounded. and it turns out, she got blasted on my behalf about a case that was really stupid. we had a patient that was being difficult about her blood sugar monitoring and yesterday i went to talk to her about it. so after doing that, the rational thing would be document in the case notes as to what went down. and yesterday while documenting, already at the back of my mind i knew that this would blow up in the morning as the consultant in charge of the patient was known to be irrational and really anal about her patients. and i was right. consultant blasted the MO and the nurses this morning saying that we were incompetent.

so i guess it was a good thing that i came late, right? since i didn't get the brunt of the consultant's wrath. but i felt really bad for my sweet MO who i swear is made out of milk and honey. she is the sweetest thing. so i was STILL optimistic about today. i smelt nice, the nurses told me i looked very pretty, i was wearing pretty new shoes and i finished all my work before 9.45am. etc, etc, etc.

but i digress.

3. i failed a test that was basically failproof! wtf. didn't help that i was post call and falling asleep ON the test paper itself. there were drool marks to prove it. so tired that i left at least 3 questions blank. i knew that on the last page, i wasn't even reading the questions anymore and was basically circling the answers blindly. now i gotta retake the test. and i don't know when that will be. and it might be a viva. i hate viva. thank goodness it doesn't affect my posting results. cross my fingers that they won't find the time to reschedule and i end up finishing my posting before they can. but knowing my luck, that won't happen.

i have succumbed to my deplorable fate that is making a mockery out of my optimism.

and now i'm cheering myself up by OD-ing on vitamin gummy chewables.

my life sucks.

a box of tissues sit next to me. as if tempting me to shed even more tears than i already have. taunting me. i cannot give in. for the sake of my mascara and my mental wellbeing. i have to be strong. i have to move on.

i look at the people around me. they each have their own story and i wonder what it is. how does a person get through each day with this weight of the unknown on their back? i fear for what i don't know. it grips me and doesn't seem to want to let go. how does everyone else look so calm, so collected? as though they know exactly how the next few seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years of their lives will pan out?

i trust in a higher power. but lately, it doesn't seem to be helping much. it's been very silent and very aloof.

the emptiness isn't new. there have always been doubts. always been questions and only partial answers. temporary solutions, but nothing very concrete. my life isn't moving on - it's moving past but yet it's stagnant.

i need to get off this treadmill.

loved the break i had over the weekend.

teck and lisa's wedding was delightful with everything done out of the box. never have i seen a more compatible couple.

labour ward has been very eventful. i think i may have found my calling. even though i know that my girlfriends will all probably shun me once i get my OnG specialist feather in my cap. but hey, i'm helping the other 3 billion women in the world.

the one thing that really hit me was that no matter how hard the men try to help or try to understand what we go through, they fail time and time again. no one understands the amount of energy and pain a woman goes through during pregnancy and delivery. and the thing that pisses me off the most, is that even in this modern time and age, there are still men who are chauvinistic enough to put THEIR needs in front of the labouring wife's.

had this one patient labouring in the hallway and there was her husband, standing watch over her, DISALLOWING her to remove the facepiece of her burkha while she was trying to withstand the pain! and he was insistent that only a female team was allowed to deliver his baby. this is all in the middle of the night and the luck of the draw would have it that their first choice hospital, had no female obstetricians on call that night. 2nd choice hospital, had the same problem. when they finally decided to come here, again, there wasn't a female senior obstetrician on call to do the C-section. even after explaining to him about how much danger his wife would be in if the labour was delayed any longer, he STILL had the gall to say NO to just ONE male obstetrician in the whole team and said that if the wife had to wait, then she'll have to wait and he'll deal with the unfavourable outcome be it death.

having respect for one's religion and wishes is essential, i agree. but in the face of death, would you still want to put up with unnecessary and foolish wishes such as these?

sometimes i think we women might be better off without men. at least, these kind of men.

when the weekend comes, so comes the dread of the impending work week.
how ironic that when we're happy we're never really, truly happy for fear of what's to come niggling the back of our minds.
why do we always feel the need to pay for our happiness and instead of just accepting it as it is...a gift.
a gift from life, a gift from God.

spent the last few days with some people who matter to me. my housemate just came back from his medical mission trip and it was good to spend time just talking to him. expressing our everchanging views and expectations of life and of ourselves.

how many of us can truly say that we know exactly what we want to do in life? we're doctors, him and i. but we've come to a point where we don't know whether we really want to do this for the rest of our lives. 'tis a noble calling, no one can doubt...but is it OUR calling? we all start out with high hopes and dreams of saving lives and caring for those who need it. but the reality of it, we're just a highly paid garbage clean up crew. we clean up the mess people make of their lives. either by cutting them open and fixing them up, or by dosing them with massive amounts of drugs that whacks out their system. are we really helping? i don't rightly know.

i've got to find more things to make my life more fulfilling because this isn't cutting it. noble or not, this calling takes a lot of perseverance.

had one of the worst calls in a long time. 2 crash caesars. multiple new admissions. crazy bleeding women everywhere. sometimes i wonder if i really want to go O&G. i love the look of ecstatic joy on the faces of the mother and father. but i hate cleaning up the mess after. the blood and the stitching and the swelling. urghh..thinking about it makes me cringe.

i don't think i'll ever get the smell of latex gloves and blood of my hands. i go to sleep with that smell swimming around my senses. *shudder*

and being around all these highly hormonal women is wreaking havoc on my monthly cycle.

post call in a couple of hours. cannot wait. i need sleep very badly. i have a massive sleep debt that i have yet to repay. don't know when or if i ever will do it. since the only time i get to sleep also happens to be the only time i get to have time to myself to do other things besides work. it's a balancing act i tell you.

wedding band practice tonight. looking forward to it. have yet to test out these vocal chords after a long hiatus. don't rightly know if they still function as they're supposed to.

on the bright side, it's the weekend in a couple of hours for me. gloom and doom on sunday as i have to come to work and then i'm on call on monday again.

it's not the pale moon, that excites me
that thrills, and delights me
oh no, it's just the nearness of you

it isn't your sweet conversation
that brings this sensation
oh no, it's just the nearness of you

when you're in my arms
and i feel you, so close to me
all my wildest dreams, came true

i need no soft lights
to enchant me
if you, would only grant me
the right to hold you ever so tight
and to feel in the night
the nearness of you

a wedding lasts a day, a marriage lasts a lifetime.
romance, i'm sure, will fade.
but love, love should remain true and everlasting.

as more and more friends make the decision that cements their future together, i cannot help but wonder, is it too late for me? i'm 26 this year and no where near settling down. even though i long for a form of stability to come home to every night and for someone to hold me when i'm going through my labile moments. i just can't seem to picture myself there yet. call me insecure, but i don't know if i'll be able to find someone who's right for me.

i find myself too fickle minded more often than i care to admit. always wondering 'what if' and never fully committing myself. is it because i feel that i've lacked so much earlier on in life that i WANT so much more now? that i should experience everything that i can and not just say 'ok' when it's ok? i don't just want ok. i want excellent and brilliant and a definite resounding YES.

too much to ask for? maybe. unachievable? definitely not. i'm not gonna settle anymore. i'm gonna chase after what i want now. i don't want to listen to people who think they know what's good for me. i want to listen to myself from now on.

woke up at 5.30 on the morning of the 23rd to a text message that banished any residual sleepiness clouding my foggy brain. there's been a passing in the family. but to my surprise, no wave of sadness came, no shocked sense of disbelief, not even the tiniest feeling of woe. how is it that i could feel nothing from this news that would, i'm sure, in other people would have garnered wails of sorrow and the beating of chests in anger.

maybe it was because i knew this passing was inevitable and that no matter how much we bargain and barter, it would be to naught.

as i got to the airport, with no ticket and no idea of when the next flight out was, i could not help but wonder, was this really necessary?

i hold no claim to knowing this member of the family as well as i should have. seeing as i'm one of the elder of the cousins, i should have more memories of him and in that sense, would have known him better. but i'm ashamed to say that i don't. and that is probably the only thing i regret.

as i paid for the ticket, i looked around me. airports are both at once joyful and sad. but the one thing that binds the two is love.

i look at the other people around me, waiting for the flight. how many of them, like me are rushing home for an emergency? could it be that slightly elderly uncle, who's burying his nose in his newspaper, trying to shut out the world and shield himself from the staring eyes of people who have noticed his slightly swollen eyes, the slightly reddened nose? or could it be the couple sitting in the corner, heads bowed closed to each other, with his arms around her shoulders comforting, whispering words of hope into her ear?

or who among us, had different agendas? maybe a married man, taking a 'business trip' somewhere he knows he won't be seen. a young lady off to travel the world to see what else there is to life other than the mundane everyday dance around the different cubicles in the office. an elderly couple spending the rest of their lives together, traveling to visit loved ones in different parts of the world, grandchildren they adore and dote on.

life goes on. no matter what 'agenda' you have. life goes on. and with that, so does love.

the next few days were a blur. a rush of getting to different places and putting on faces. and in particular, of mending fences.

dirty laundry should never be aired in public, we all know that. but i'm ashamed to say, that ours were almost right there for the world to see, as we slowly but surely came to realise that this man, had a side to him that none of us knew. how long had he been this person that was so celebrated, so loved, so open? we had just had a taste of his goodness and he was taken away. forever to be known only a certain way to us. it leaves quite a bitter taste in the mouth to know that we never paid him the due respect.

but for what that was lacking, we can only hope to make up for now. in the aftermath of such news, it's time to wake up. it's time to move on and realise, that life, does go on.