Married to my work

You don't choose which pit to fall into, you just did. Blame the resilient devils, your weak self, the enticing pit, whatever. You still have to pull yourself back up no matter how hard it is because you have somewhere you have to go, something to achieve. The pit is not the end of your journey.

Remember who you are. Remember what you want. Remember where you want to go. It never ends here.

Homie I don't know, he's hot and cold
Won't stop, won't mess my groove up
'Cause I already know how this thing end

---

Every winter, I will remember Heartless. You would, too, if you heard Dia Frampton singing so hauntingly and this part got stuck in your brain ever since.

How could you be so cold as the winter wind when it breeze yo

Just because it's all in my head doesn't make it any less than real

Author: haru
Genre: Angst
Rating: T
Summary: That is me now; prejudicial. Perhaps always has been. How did I end up so bitter like an old fool who lived a hundred years of sorrow?

------------------------

Every time I see you, what flashes in my mind is how I will react if you repeat what you did again. I know I will go for the jugular. I know I will stamp on your renal angle with the intention to bust your kidney open. I know I will leave you there. I know I will cry so hard. I know I will be sorry I hurt you but you will deserve it for what you do.

I know I have a problem. I know I am living in worst-case-scenario when it comes to you. I know I am traumatized, too scared perhaps, and it's not like you were actively trying to prove your worthiness again. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so sorry that I love you but I can't trust you anymore.

I can't help it that once you break that trust, things will never be the same. We will be civil at best, but my guard will always be up. I suppose you won't feel a thing unless you notice the change in my demeanour and wonder why. But the burden will always be on me because it hurts to live in constant vigilance against people you care about.

That is me now; prejudicial. Perhaps always has been. How did I end up so bitter like an old fool who lived a hundred years of sorrow?

God, please don't curse me with this ability to remember.

D for Dramatic

Dr. Nadia was supposed to give our clinical session today but she was absent, so I joined Class D's clinical session. The following scenes took place there and made me realized how my class was Class B for Brilliance and theirs was Class D for Dramatic, hahaha.

---

Two and half years old Sama was crying and grunting. Crying and grunting. Someone took out a squeaky Pikachu toy and squeaked the toy out.

Sama stopped crying.

"That is a pig or what?" Dr. Hala asked, clearly amused at the child's reaction.

"It's Pikachu!" Class answered. Thankfully it wasn't in the tone of that 'Who's That Pokemon' segment or I would have doubled over in laughter.

---

The students lined up to auscultate ten-year-old Latifah's hemic murmur. I was asking Diyana why the doctor used the term edema of abdomen instead of ascites when I noticed said doctor's eyes were on me.

Probably my voice was too loud. I smiled at her sheepishly and said "Ops sorry doctor."

She looked at me intently. "Enti syatroh?" (You are clever?)

"Erk." I grinned awkwardly at her sudden out-of-place question. Now what was the correct answer for such question? "Ameen?"

She turned to Epul who was standing next to her and helped her to find the correct word. "Not that.." She said. "What I wanted to say was.. She is very, very, very..."

Doctor please don't say talkative. The guys would never let me live it down if you say talkative.

"...caring, kind, cooperative..."

Where on earth did that came from?

"...blablabla... And she asked question in the class." Dr. Hala turned to me. "Are you in the top 10 of the class?"

"No!" Now this one I know the answer to by heart.

"Why not?" She looked taken aback at my abrupt happy denial.

"Because I am too lazy to study," I shot back laughingly.

"So who is the top in the class?"

We pointed directly to Aisyah Mardhiyah, Amirul Yunus and others. Haha.

So I did asked a question in class. And probably have all the making of a top ten student as well (OMG so narcissistic. Somebody slap me please) except for my pathological laziness. Dr. Hala is either highly intuitive and superbly deductive or she needs a total enlightenment in the art of profiling hehe.

Thank you doctor. You restored my faith in my own self :')

---

Walked pass Epul on the way up the stairs to our lecture hall. He smirked and dished out his usual sarcastic flattery parroting what Dr. Hala commented.

I laughed, thanked him and amen-ed to his 'prayer'. I actually had a piece of banana crumble I wanted to give to him but seemed like he had too much fun today.

I ate half the banana crumble during lecture. No wonder I was more hyper than a monkey.

Cheap and power-wielding big sister

Last week Melle just got her Malaysian identification card which was long overdue since she turned twelve on August 10th. Apparently our parents were too busy for her, muahaha. So the week before that Big Bro and I had been calling her PATI (illegal immigrant) because she had no IC.

Melle was so not happy.

She then received her IC and posted the picture of it as proof on my Facebook wall. Instead of calling her now a legal citizen, I commented that we know need to call her ex-PATI.

Melle was so not happy.

"Oo kalu gitu, pa, ma, kakngah dengan semua orang pun ex-PATI jugak ke?" she retorted.

I seriously didn't know how to reply her wit so I pulled out the big sister card and replied "Oh pandai menjawab ye." That got her to mutter a "huhu" with a very dissatisfied face.

HAHAHA.

There's nothing wrong with being beaten by the cold weather. It shows that you are only ever crippled by God.

Last night they went to the hospital and I didn't, giving my intolerance to very cold weather as reason. Today at class, Umair hit me on the shoulder.

\(>__<)/ I am not sissy and complaining about being hit but I am complaining about the reason I was hit.

---

The last time we went to the hospital was last Wednesday and I took it before going to the hospital that night. It was colder than I expected (I was already wearing three-layered clothing huhu) and I ended up coughing a few times in the ER. It was embarrassing because I was in front of the guys and doctors and I even had to sit down. Grr.

Third fit and finally I ran to the bathroom to take it another time. So really, last night was colder than Wednesday's. Go figure.

---

It's hard to comply when you question the diagnosis. Even when you finally come in terms with the diagnosis, you question why is this your GP's first line of treatment. Either I am too stubborn or too smart. So I was at the crossroad of either take it and resume normal activity or don't take it and stay put and hibernate like a good brown bear.

Last night was stressful. I considered my stubbornness as over the top and breaching into stupidity, but dad said I wasn't being stubborn, "just that you want to attempt to neutral it naturally." It was a soothing salve, but the problem was still there.

This season's theme song will be Maroon 5 - Harder To Breathe.

This is why Farah Nur is menyampah with me

Farah Nur was locked in the house and couldn't go back to her own so she was still there when I got back just now.

"Nah ada kek coklat. E*mad bagi. Kenal kan?"

Apparently this Ain Shams friend of mine was not familiar with the final year seniors of Cairo University.

"Kenapa dia bagi kau?" Farah Nur cocked an eyebrow.

"Aku kan junior yang disayangi ramai."

"Eeeeeee menyampah!"

"Haha."

"Untungla jadi junior kesayangan ramai."

"Mesti la. (insert another senior's name) yang tak pergi program PERU*ATAN pun datang sebab aku public speaking."

Kak Milah ran out of the room, nearly choking on the piece of cake she was eating. Farah Nur dropped onto the floor screeching a prolonged "Menyampahnya!" at my remark.

HARU FTW hahaha.

---

Okay that was fun. Need to get a grip on myself.

Red Rawrs

I figured I have high enough self-confidence to monologue in public and to express my opinion and not give a damn what others think of it. And thus this post is dedicated to myself.

Farah Nur is in the house and she brings with her breakfast that she already ate and some books. I am rummaging through one of them; The People Code by Dr. Taylor Hartman as we speak.

This is a personality book. And according to him, I am a Red with perhaps White as my secondary character. Dr. Hartman said that I am

aggressive and determined one minute (Red), then quietly passive the next (White). Your guiding motive is power and peace. You are likely to be misunderstood because your behaviour is inconsistent, and you don't easily allow others to figure you out.

Hmm. That is serious sheet. Reading online fictions has dulled my ability to read a real book so I am reduced to merely scanning through this book. Found two quotes that are amusingly spot-on.

Lead, follow, or get out of the way. 

Yes, this suits well with the election month of PERUBATAN and accordingly I am taking the third option of "get out of the way". Not interested in leading and definitely not into following, so I am being smart.

Winning is not everything, it is the only thing. 

Yes I like to win or to a lesser extend, I don't like to lose. It is okay not to win as long as I am not losing. Sometimes I choose not to bother because of this simple principle.

Dr. Hartman did a great job at describing me and I congratulate him for that. Among Reds' strengths that he enumerated and I agree upon are "highly efficient during emergencies or disasters" in As A Friend listing and "highly protective of companion" and "loyal to the relationship" in As A Committed Companion listing.

Major flops described for Reds point to how we deal with emotions and I have to agree with that. I am insensitive and tactless and consequently hurt people without ever realizing; much less intending to do so. In pure form, I am selfish, arrogant and intimidating.

Dr. Hartman also helpfully listed Five Things Reds Should Do Before They're Thirty which are:

1- teach their mother how to be a better parent

Which I don't have to because my mom is already the best mom and I respect her, thank you very much.

2- win every argument
3- break a Blue's heart

I break people's heart all the time unintentionally already.

4- run in a marathon or "run" the entire event
5- run a country. 

And not to forget the Two Things Reds Need to Do Before They Die:

1- become vulnerable and share their heart

I do this but I notice I do this for the sake of saying it out and that I don't really care what the other thinks of me or what s/he might do with that piece of information. As stated in the beginning of this post, I have high self-confidence thus am immune against blackmails.

2- leave their cellphone and computer at home and take a real vacation. 

Done since I am lazier nowadays. I have already done the Two Things he listed, is this a sign that I can go die now? Haha.

Red's complimentary opposites are elicited from the Whites... which might explain why I have affinity to people with White personality. Whites are peacekeepers. My dad is a White. Their Top Five Attraction Factors are:
1- listening
2- acceptance
3- kindness
4- patience
5- perspective

while their Top Three Flops are:
1- indecisive
2- conflict avoidance
3- inexpressive

A healthy Red-White relationship is that a Red needs a White in these aspects:

and the White needs the Red in these aspects:

Seriously, I need to get a handheld device with a much better camera.

Anyway, the point of reading such genre is to know your strengths so to optimize them and to acknowledge you weaknesses so to improve on them.

We all have that gene that is proven to be troublesome

The other day Hyde got admitted and operated upon. Once discharged, he made a public statement apologizing for his stubbornness that lead to this whole fiasco. I forgave him and told him that "pathological stubbornness is autosomal recessive."

Autosomal recessive means a trait that is genetically inherited with both parents as carrier. With each pregnancy, the kid has 25% chance of clinically manifesting with that trait. If one parent is clinically affected and the other is a carrier, chance for that kid to be affected will spike up to 50%.

Hyde was not the only stubborn person who was reckless on his own health. We also have dad and me, thus my comment.

Upon my statement, dad said he probably needed to reopen his genetic book. I told him that I clinically diagnose this condition without any gene assessment needed (because obviously I am making this up, anyone thinking I am serious need to get a thorough reality check-up); solely from the patient's positive family history. "Because papa you are also quite a very stubborn person. Can only blame you la. Muahaha."

"Not stubborn, but firm..." he said. And so I reminded him of his refusal to undergo a medical investigation when he was admitted one time ago.

"Oh...ok..." he remembered. "Yes I (was) reluctant for OGDS cos I well... you know lah..."

Hahaha! See what I mean?

To his credit, he reasoned that the investigation was not indicated for his condition at that time but of course his doctor, my mom and me think otherwise. It was then a case of self-management commonly encountered among the health personnel.

I am all too familiar with this. So really, this pathological stubbornness is genetic.

It's either somnolence or insomnia nowadays, why can't I be normal?

The hospital interferes with my sleep. I can't sleep when I get back from the hospital and end up defeated by the 8.30am class. Even when I can sleep, I end up dreaming about the hospital.

Like today's. Umairah was soothing a dejected me who was forlorn from not being as smart as Iskandar. Apparently in my dream he is very good with the basic physiology and pathology of an organ and a disease.

This scene probably came up because last night he asked me the pathway of hyperglycemia ending in ketosis.

Hari Fail BP Sedunia

Took the patient's blood pressure. Iskandar was assisting. I failed to hear the pulse. Tried again. Epic fail. Announced my failure and handed over to Is-kun.

"It is okay if you didn't get it. Just tell me you didn't get it." Dr. Rockstar the resident (I think) assured me.

"160 over 110." Is-kun announced.

Failing in front of our esteemed mentor is considered for us a major devastating humiliation. I went over to where Umair and Syaimaa were. "Aku fail BP depan Is. Aku tak boleh kahwin lagi."

Syaimaa laughed. "Macam mana kau boleh relatekan kahwin dengan BP? Kalau gagal bezakan baking soda dengan baking powder boleh kira lagi."

Taking vital signs is the most basic of the basic a doctor-to-be must master. If I fail that, what right do I have to even think of anything else?

---

Dr. Husam was telling me why Egypt is the top in the pyramid of Hepatitis C incidence. Umair came out from behind the patient's curtain and asked him.

"Dr. Husam, why is the (brachial) pulse inaudible? Is it because we are stupid?"

Dr. Husam grinned and said maybe it was problem with the patient's peripheral pulse, problem with the stethoscope placement or ultimately "problem with the doctor himself."

We laughed and I made my way behind the patient's curtain. Dr. Hesham was taking the patient's BP after us students failed to. We prepped the ECG leads while waiting for him.

Dr. Hesham stood up and announced he failed, too. "Let's proceed with the ECG."

---

Tonight each of us had difficulty in measuring the BP at least once. (Syaimaa was traumatized after nearly diagnosing the patient with severe hypotension when he was actually normotensive while Iskandar shook his head at his stethoscope, stating "benda ni mengecewakan aku.")

But the others never gave up. I admire my friends determination, resilience and proactiveness. I will work harder and not lose to them! :D

P/s: It is 3.30am and I cannot sleep.. I will need IV caffeine in the morning.

The next day. "Don't be afraid," Is said to me in his patient voice. "It is okay to fail now." 

I feel like a little girl who just failed a math test and being consoled by the fatherly headmaster TT-TT

Harapan

Ramadan lepas, kami nak ke rumah pak long di Bangi. Along drive, saya di sebelah. Lagu Harapan oleh Hyper Act sedang dimainkan oleh radio Era.

"Along suka style lagu macam ni." Along merujuk kepada teknik vokal vokalis tersebut. "Macam Train. Ape nama vokalis Train?"

"Pat. Pat Monahan." Saya menjawab.

"Ha~tiku~" Along menyanyi mengikut lagu tersebut. Saya tersengih dan berazam untuk muat turun lagu ni sebaik sahaja pulang ke rumah demi nilai sentimentalnya.

---

Memandangkan keadaan sekarang, mungkin bukan langkah yang bijak untuk biarkan lagu ni dimainkan apabila iPod on shuffle..

Haru. Kata berjiwa lelaki. Sila lebihkan menggunakan otak.

Perkenalkan Kucing Bangunan 42

Dalam bangunan apartmen kami ni ada dua ekor kucing. Tak tahu la siapa punya, tapi selalu je nampak diorang ni pinjam tandas rumah penjaga bangunan. Ummu Kareem punya kot.

Seekor tu kucing jantan warna oren belang putih, bulu dia serabut dan kotor, muka dia comot. Dia selalu lari je kalau saya datang dekat. Dia diam tak banyak bising pun. Nampak macam budak baik, tapi nakal dia ni pengobek sampah rumah kami, haish. Badan dia juga penuh luka; war scar bukti jaguh berlawan dengan kucing-kucing lain.

Muka baik, comot, nakal. Mengingatkan saya pada seorang kenalan di Mesir ni maka kali pertama bersua dengan kucing ni, terus saya namakan dia S*****. Nama penuh dia S***** The Scavenging Cat (sebab dia tak senonoh suka kobek sampah).

Ini S***** yang cuba melarikan diri.

Setiap pagi bila nak keluar rumah, biasanya akan bertembung dia maka saya akan tersenyum girang dan menyapa "Hai S*****" dan dia samada merenung tanpa sebarang perasaan atau melarikan diri. Kalau dia lari, saya kejar, maka maafkan lah saya kalau terlewat seminit dua sampai kelas haha. Waktu balik juga begitu.

Seekor lagi adalah kucing betina warna kelabu lembut dengan tompok hitam sepanjang belakang dia. Bulu dia bersih dan kemas tersisir rapi, tak macam si S***** tu. Mata dia sangaaat besar dan sebab tu saya berpendapat dia ni sentiasa kelihatan terperanjat. Saya namakan dia Mona sebab rupa dia macam seekor Mona.

Ini Mona gemuk yang suka lawan tenung.

Selalu juga bertembung Mona di tangga dan saya tersenyum girang dan menyapa "Hai Mona" pada dia, tapi saya tak acah dia sekerap saya acah S*****. Pertamanya sebab Mona selalu lari laju sangat dan kedua sebab Mona tengah bunting sekarang. Kasihan ibu bunting dikejar kanak-kanak riang. Kalau terberanak saat itu juga, mampus la saya yang tiada pengalaman menyambut kelahiran anak kucing.

Tingkap

Tasnim was receiving the call from the restaurant delivery guy.

"Berapa junaih ya?" Very business-like and serious tone. Complete mask face. She even used junaih, instead of the more colloquial genih.

"Baiklah. Nanti saya keluar ikut tingkap."

HAHAHAHA.

P/s: In Egypt, it is common to send your basket down for stuffs instead of going down by yourself.

"Dah dekat midnight dah ni. Vampire semua dah keluar."

Is-kun was taking the only patient's blood pressure. The other four of us stood doing nothing.

"Is paling berguna sekali." I said.

Umair looked at Pait. "Pait pandai buat cookies. Aku pandai buat chicken pie." She looked at Syaimaa and said, "Syaimaa pandai buat cheesecake."

She turned to me sceptically. "Kau pandai buat ape?"

LE200 richer

The doctor gave me LE200 for summarizing today’s neonatal jaundice lecture. Even the Egyptian girl Marwa got LE100. I was surprised when the doctor handed me that amount. Allah bless her heart. She said it was because I am “a Malaysian and extremely brave.” She said if she was in my place (a foreigner asked to speak up in a foreign country), she will mum up.

It wasn’t not so much bravery as it was obligation to the doctor’s order, who picked me because the rest of Malaysians pointed at me. And I was in my default seat in class; in the middle part of the mid front row and directly facing the lecturer without any other student in between. My gain, hehe.

I didn’t volunteer myself because I was sitting in the middle and it was so much hassle to go out to the front of the class. Plus money never motivates me.

So maybe I will buy stuffs with the LE200, cook something and share it with the whole class? But I am too lazy to cook.. Ooooh I want banana pie!

Laid-back

I never get the hang on long-haul public transport. It either makes me nauseous or sleepy. For the sake of everyone, I sleep.

It was only ten minutes into the journey and already I lost consciousness. The bumpy ride jolted me awake and the Egyptian aunty on my right gushed for me to continue sleeping, patting her shoulder.

Apparently I had spent the last half hour using her shoulder as a makeshift pillow. I sheepishly apologized to her but the uncle on my left and passengers in front of me gushed me to have my sleep. I didn't know why they were so concerned (either I looked toxic or they took in my small frame and considered me a pathetic lonesome girl) and at loss of word, I obliged and continued sleeping on her shoulder. It lasted another fifteen minutes, before the bumpy road was too much and I had to change my head position to lean onto the seat in front of me.

I woke up in time for my stop. My voice was still hoarse from the sleep so the uncle shouted out my stop to the driver. I bid him farewell and continued my journey.

I am one freaking laid-back traveller. Some will say my dependency on Allah is so high I forget everything else, haha.

Welcoming Them Cuties

A young nurse came to put on the baby girl's clothes. She put on the diaper after wiping up the meconium but the stain remained, so I asked her about it. She said the mother will do the proper clean-up.

I sweat-dropped.

She continued putting on the baby's beige undershirt. It was on inside-out. And the blue and white striped outershirt was also inside-out. She picked the baby up, bundled her in her-mother-provided blanket and carried her away.

I turned to Umairah. "When you go into labour, I'll make sure your kid's clothes are right-side out."

Iskandar laughed. "Why are you doing that? Isn't that her husband's job?"

He was right. I think I had become too independent that I forgot there is supposed to be role for a male.. somewhere.

Standard picture of a hyperexcited medical student. Mock me, haha.
He was the first baby we saw from a CS delivery. Handsome baby boy of 20112012. 

We went to the Department 10's labour room because we just took Neonatal Resuscitation on Monday and wanted to see how they really do it on a fresh baby. Though according to our esteemed leader, "We have to see the before process; the delivery!" with so much enthusiasm it was ticklish. Even declared a smug "My first delivery" after seeing his first vaginal delivery, hahaha.

We haven't taken Obstetric yet but Dr. Hend Mahmoud was very helpful and went through the normal delivery process with us in English and Syazwani tutored us through the Cesarean section. Paediatrically speaking, we saw what we came to see, revised the management of a baby of diabetic mother, grunting baby and some more.

Alhamdulillah. May God be forever kind to the cute babies and the heroes who worked for the safety of both mother and child.

Hari Mengucapkan Tahniah Kepada Budak2 Pendek

Post ini adalah untuk keluarga, maka kenalan-kenalan sahabat handai mungkin rasa budak ni mangkuk sungguh.

Harini papa ambilkan slip result UPSR Melle. Budak tu sekarang di rumah Chik di Selangor dengan Maru dan meninggalkan papa, mama dan James di rumah untuk menjaga arnab. Khabarnya Melle makin hitam sebab main panas di kolam renang, nasib la.

Kembali kepada ayat pertama, harini papa ambilkan slip result UPSR Melle. Seperti disangka, Melle dapat 5A dan 9A untuk SPPIM (Sijil Pentaksiran Pelajar Islam Musleh? Eh apekah dah lupa. Ni untuk budak-budak sekolah Musleh la.). Tahniah la kepada budak kecil baru lepas UPSR tapi perangai mengalahkan nenek. Semoga makin bersyukur dengan nikmat Ilahi dan terus berjaya dunia dan akhirat dan menjadi aset kepada agama, keluarga dan negara.

Tapi ketahuilah, kakakmu ini 10 tahun lebih hebat. You can never beat that, but you can come close enough. Ngehehe.

Maru pula dapat Tokoh Penampilan ke apentah bagi budak2 darjah dua di sekolah dia. Okey ni nak kata penampilan Maru smart ke? Mungkin juga. Ye kot.

Ye la tu. Anak papa. Mama dan Melle susah payah pastikan budak ni smart setiap pagi, nampaknya usaha kalian berbekas. Tahniah la semua.

Pencapaian ini, mengikut mama, menjadikan Maru calon sebagai pengawas bagi sesi akan datang. Tahniah budak tinggi. Semoga berusaha memudahkan urusan guru-guru dan kawan-kawan, jangan kena buli lagi ya Maru.

Sekian. Angah lapar dan harus mencari makanan.

Panic & The Peas

Once upon a time, I had Pyramid's fried rice and tweeted how it took me three times fed for that one meal to be finished. Kak Elle got confused whether Pyramid was an Egyptian restaurant or a Malay restaurant and why would they serve fried rice.

I told her it was an Egyptian restaurant and probably served fried rice there after years of having Malay customers over. I described to her that the fried rice was made with egg, chicken, beef, prawn, carrot and "paling tak best peas."

For the record, I eat all my vegetables except green peas. They taste funny. I only eat them on the occasion I am too hungry or too lazy to bother sorting them out.

Kak Elle on the other hand loves green peas, so her next reply of "Peas la paling best!" was expected.

At that time, she went with Miss P for Panic as her Twitter name so I replied her with "Miss P for Peas" as a homage to her love for peas. She replied back "Panic and The Peas?" and I decided that it sounded like a great band name.

She said, "Come join my band, you can be the lead guitarist."

The Veronicas. I stole this off the net ngehehe.

And that was how the Panic & The Peas joke came to be.

Smokers Are Stupid

Egyptians smoking in hospital is a very low level of humanity. A standard of stupidity and ignorance in itself.

But smoking in a children's hospital? Kids are already susceptible to respiratory infection, coming in crying for air and the air reeks of smoke. What kind of brainless stupidity is this?

Paediatric makes me seethe at stupid adults and one of these days I might just go homicidal. I can see myself at the end of the round coming down with bipolar depression; happily cooing at cute kids and turns amok at the adults. 

Bitter

I hate Spectrim. It's not smooth-coated and I have to bite into it to break it into small pieces before I can swallow it down. The darn antibiotic is way bitterer than paracetamol.

Plus antibiotics make me absent-minded hence generation of witty comebacks are now down to 60%.

But it does the trick and it's what I need. Regardless the mountainous complaints, I will still take it. With mumbles of "tak guna gile pahit."

I should close this post with some kind of lessons from this tale but my brain is not in prime function so please excuse this whining post.

You want to live a life of no pain or no pleasure?

I have always hoped I die young. I won't live a long life to commit too many sins. I won't face the hassle of old age and degenerative medical conditions. I won't have to plan much for the future, except the occasional dream of having an apartment of my own with a cat and an espresso machine in my huge kitchen. I can do whatever I want with what little I have and not let the future hinders me.

I won't have to worry about who's going to take care of me when I am no longer able to take care of myself and thus, I see no need for getting married.

So my reasons are plain selfish. Being selfish is my defense when people are being so damn stupid and I have to do something to avoid committing homicide.

But only very good people die young. In a morbid sense, maybe all I want is to be a very good person.

Maturity

You can ask Melle anything. She is good at Bahasa Malaysia (she corrected our usage of 'dari' and 'daripada'), brilliant at fiqah (she knows the barrier between a father and his daughter-in-law) and she is quick with her math (she answered my 8 times 3 in a jiffy). She is only twelve years old and a head shorter than me.

There should be other areas of her expertise. I should test next her proficiency in rocket science.

Recently she has shown interest in some witty-people-only-territory vocabularies such as asking me the meaning of sarcastic and irony.

Melle is so clever. That or I am so dumb. Haha.

Today Maru injured himself at the school. So he and probably all the boys in his class went to find Melle (those eight-year-old brats called Melle no prefix!) for help. Always ready for anything, Melle whipped out a band aid and tended to Maru's injury. She SMS-ed mom with her friend's handphone to inform her of the situation. Mom was at work so she called Along to pick Maru up early.

I was so proud my innards swelled and my abdomen got distended! That band-aid-whipping is so me! Melle also admitted to carrying safety pins around and I boomed out laughing because I do that too! She is so my sister! Sobs.

Anyway, back to the topic. Realize how the kids handled the situation themselves and bypassed the teachers? Kids nowadays grow up so fast.

Kambings are Mycobacterium-resistant hence no need to shower. Sleep is more relevant.

"Kak ngah." Big boss called from the kitchen. The lump hummed in response. "Have you showered?"

The lump lifted her head from the sprawl on the floor. "Why do I have to shower? I want to sleep."

"You met a TB patient! You have to go take a shower and wash away every bacteria!"

"But I want to sleep."

"You met a TB?" The lump's brother said in fake indignation. "You touched me just now!"

"No I gave you the end of my stethoscope and you put it on yourself!" The lump managed a glare, which softened in concern at remembering the youngest sibling she percussed earlier. "But I touched Hakim.. Hakim go shower now!"

"Kak ngah go and shower! You dealt with infectious diseases!"

"There's no logic to that. I changed my clothes. I washed my face and my hands and-"

"You have to practice the correct method of hand hygiene."

"I did! I even used the sanitizer!"

"This is protocol for infection control. You wash off everything. This is the sister ordering you to go and shower now."

"Why do we have a nurse as a mother?" The lump moved a few inches.

"You are lucky to have a sister as your mother." Said sister sounded smug. "Now go shower now."

"Yes motheeer."

Hakim ran to the bathroom for his shower after hearing the threat of bacteria on his being. The lump continued her sprawl on the floor.

Hari Buli Abang

I slept at 11pm Cairo time. Jet lag. I should have stayed awake the journey as I was traveling eastward and this would have helped my body adjust to the time difference. But I didn't.

I woke up at 9am Cairo time. Sucks.

Two hours later, Hyde, Melle and I hopped into the Innova to survey any open restaurant in town because Uncle Razali wanted to treat us to dinner. All our favourite restaurants were closed and the three of us surveyed from Kota Bharu to Pengkalan Chepa and Kubang Kerian to no avail, except for Ajihs Nasi Lemak which was full to the brim with customers. It was the second day of Eid Adha holiday anyway.

So we stopped at Nirwana to pick up some groceries (plus some fake lady Crocs for me. I only had my heeled booties and how am I supposed to ride my bike in heeled booties?) and Mele wanted Cool Blog and since Along was buying, why not he treat me as well? Poor me so pokai I couldn't even afford my RM4.10 cappuccino crack, haha.

After dinner I took out my Lissauer because I don't want to appear stupid in front of dad when he tells me to take his patient's history this Monday. Dad saw me and asked how was my Internal Medicine studies, in which I replied I still need to master taking the vital signs under five minutes.

There was a grave silence in the air and the subtle change in dad's eyes and mom's stunned expression made me feel like a failure.

To reassure them that there was no genetic problems and their daughter is not stupid and her retarded achievement was because she's just.. lazy, I hastily added that I know how to but it's just that I didn't practice enough on patients yet. My parents looked slightly relieved and my mom told me to start taking vitals from everyone in the family while giving out pointers on how to effectively take a patient's temperature. (It pays to have a nurse as your mother.)

I seriously need to see more patients and brush heavily on my clinical skills. I had told Maru to strip his shirt because I wanted to examine him that afternoon but the boy refused and ran away. Should I start bribing them with ice-creams?

I cannot laze around. My parents are breathing down my neck.

That night, I layered tiny bottles with dolly paper and Uncle Razali dutifully filled them with four chocolates (two reds, one blue, one white). Auntie Asnah came and joined us diligent workers in front of the TV. Dad sat on the couch and went through the Lissauer, complimenting the book.

Hyde, Kak Hidayah, Abang Taufiq and Sarah had been gone for nearly two hours from sending John off to college and they soon returned with ten Ramli's burger (Sarah was craving; they once bought RM200 worth of Subway also because Sarah was craving haha) and some Tutti Frutti filled to the brim.

I stared in wonder. "We Singaporeans are deprived of food," Auntie Asnah joked.

Kak Hidayah and Hyde helped us and Abang Taufiq changed the channel to Arsenal vs Queen's Park Ranger. Hyde came back with the camera and suddenly Abang Taufiq picked up a bottle and showed flawless genuine interest in how many chocolates were to be put inside each. The camera was put away and he went back to enthusiastically watching the game. Hahaha!

Foreign talents

We were going at ten minutes per 25 bottles. The game ended and Abang Taufiq joined us and kept pointing out how slow we were ("Abah ni pasang cap pun lambat", "Ibu ni lambat la", "Bukan Taufiq, tu bubuh kertas tu lambat" LOLOL).

He urged us to work faster and under his management, we the foreign talents (me Egyptian, them Singaporeans) of Hyde's doorgifts-filling labour successfully cut the working hour to five minutes per 25 bottles. Mom told us to call it a day but so inspired we were by the addition of Abang Taufiq and our pace that Uncle Razali kept insisting "Satu tray lagi, last last."

I lost count how many "last" trays there were.

My narration is seriously downplaying the event. Technically he was bossing everyone around but his aloof tone and everyone happily working together made the work so enjoying. Plus I hardly was bossed around so having someone else actively taking the helm was a much needed breath and very refreshing for me.

My Traub's area was dull from the burger and I need to sleep now if I want to be awake to send our relatives home.

At the airport. Kak Hidayah, Abang Taufiq, and Sarah not in picture.

Lone Ranger

I have this problem in differentiating flirting from being good friendly. Whatever center responsible for that in my brain is probably broken from prolonged exposure to fictions. It poses a big problem because when you're a "lone ranger" as kindly pointed out by your dutiful driver, you end up being chatted up by strangers.

At first it was okay and I was bored anyway. He was from Gaza and showed videos of his beautiful kids playing in their rebuilt house after shelling from the last war and at the beach. Then he wanted to exchange contacts and the naive me who didn't know any better, offered my Internal Medicine notes for him to jot down his emails and telephone number.

Then he scribbled something else. I nearly bombed him with the F word but it was the eve of Eid Adha so no cursing allowed but come to think of it, maybe I should have asked out loud why the f*** he wrote that.

So that's why he never mentioned anything about his wife while we talked about his family. You're married. Don't flirt with me, asshole.

So that was why I had to sleep or study throughout my journey because if I didn't, bugger will freaking bug me. Despite my best effort of informing him of my (non-existing) boyfriend in Egypt to get him off my back. Leech.

In the end, I successfully ditched him at the passport control KLIA. Thank God for autogate.

The will to live

Medical Ethics lecture today inspired me to write my living will right now.

1) Please resuscitate me.
2) Power of attorney given to my father.
3) Please see that I get my manicure and pedicure. Conscious or not, I detest dead skins and untrimmed nails.
4) Don't mess with any notes left on my iPod and laptop or my wrath will hunt you.
5) If end comes to end, please donate my internal organs.

Thank you.

H*na Akmal R*slan
15th October 2012

"HARU’S JUST A JERKFACE AND SHE NEEDS TO WEAR BRIGHTER COLORS AND WATCH MY LITTLE PONY!"

I want a lot of things but I most of the time deny myself the indulgence of such pleasures. I want this to work but I effing do nothing about it and I can see it slipping right through my grasp. I want people's company but I ignore people for some selfish reason and lose friends in the long run. I want food but I refuse to eat for some stupid illogical rationale that is physically affecting me and making me sleepy most of the time.

Maybe I am not good at appreciating. I have no rights to complain when I brought this upon myself in the first place.

I tend to reject people and run away. I can't handle being treated kindly by the people I like. Maybe they are better off without me. I am not exactly a good influence. I try to be a good person and fail, I try again and fail. Maybe I'm destined to die trying, which is second best to actually becoming good.

I know I disappointed a lot of people and most importantly myself. There is no good in knowing what to do if you fail to execute them accordingly. What use of knowing the tafseer of the third verse of Surah As-Soff if you do nothing and just let God curse you?

Embrace thy phlegmatic self

I have this list of stuffs I should do. Important shiznits, stuffs like that. One of them was editing the interview conducted yesterday. This was what the reporter said when he informed me he sent it through PM.

"-and do what you do best-"

He said a lot other stuffs but a good reporter organizes a large amount of information to find the important parts and that one sentence was for me the most important part in the conversation.

What I do best is slack off. And that was exactly what I did.

Enthusiasm and determination require strong willpower to maintain because once alone, I become a useless sloth.

Museum Case

The patient was cachexic. He had all positive abdominal signs upon inspection except he had no scar despite the presence of a large umbilical hernia with gangrenous surface since one year. I suppose unless he is dying from the hernia, the doctor will avoid cutting him up to avoid bleeding problem.

He walked out at the end of the class and not a single money asked from the students. Very different from our previous patients who asked in the first place how many were they going to receive for their teaching participation.

I wouldn't know if the doctors paid him. But it made me feel sad for him. Because he was a classic case of liver cirrhosis with its complications.

He was a teacher. The goods he taught his students will flow back to him endlessly.

Do you smell that? That's the distinct sweet scent of victory.

Lately the posts are unserious and personal and self-conceited maybe. I should think less about myself and more about what makes the world goes around. But before that I need to jot something down.

If you would kindly direct your attention to the upper left corner.. yes, right there where Kakashi gave his order to Sakura.

Yes.

There's plenty more canon-proofs if you sorely misguided SasuSaku suckers want to debate, but we don't have to debate to know what is right. We freaking know what is right already. 

It Started With Hematemasis

"You are HO's?"

"No we're Year 5 students."

"Go." I pulled a face. Seriously you're not kicking us out. "And study Paeds, Gynae.."

"Haha."

"I am just joking. Do you want to insert the Ryle's tube?"

---

Dr. Abdur Rahman sat on the bed and went on details how to manage a hematemasis patient while said patient laid on the hallway floor refusing his nasogastric tube.

".. we give him colloids. Okay. What are colloids?"

A blurry of answers. And "Plasma expanders?"

His eyes grinned. "You are a senior."

"Figures. We just took hematemasis in lecture today."

---

Child-Pugh score of a cirrhotic patient. How to differentiate the patient is having hepatorenal syndrome or his renal is failing.

"Can you show us which case is cirrhotic?"

"That annoying patient."

Hahaha. He came to the ER and literally floored the reception area with blood. Tachycardiac. First grade hepatic encephalopathy and refused his nasogastric tube. Cannot wash his stomach, cannot do upper GI endoscopy. Struggled against it multiple times. Of course he annoyed the doctors.

Well I don't exactly blame the patient, I hate that stuff myself. But really.

---

"Which two of you want to do this patient's ECG?"

Shuffles. "Plug this in please." Plugged.

"Right upper limb?"

"Red."

"Good. Put some gel and spread it. Right. Medial of the patient and best on a bony prominence. Okay, right lower limb?"

"Green. Eh-"

"No-"

"Black," we both answered simultaneously. "Gel and spread. Good. Left upper limb?"

"Yellow."

Gel and spread. Gel and spread. Gel and spread. Gel and spread. Gel and spread. Gel and spread. Ran out of gel. The doctor left us to refill.

Entertained the patient while waiting.

Gel and spread. Gel and spread. Gel and spread.

We were then done. "If you want to stay longer," But doctor, I already had bilateral moderate ptosis. "You can untangle these wires and it will be very helpful."

Hahaha.

---

Chaperoned despite my (by default) initial polite dismissal. I felt respected and had I been a lesser girl, I would have danced in joyful happiness. And ended with a walk home discussing footballs.

The Girl Who Takes Things For Granted

You've gotta be extra careful with the things
that are close and dearest to you,
You know the closer you get to something,
the tougher it is to see it.

Explain to me this happiness that you just got to experience,
Or maybe you're so blessed that you can't even remember it all.

That you are standing here with me,
That you live and breathe and see and feel,
They're all little miracles and wonder just by themselves.

It's fine to say "Never give up" and "Keep on chasing your dreams",
But the more time you spend talking big,
the less you get done with life.

I'll let that handful of courage in my heart
help me survive another day,
And I'll never take it for granted.
Let's go!

Inoue Joe - Closer
Naruto Shippuden 4th Opening Song

"Think about your happiest moments. Was there someone there also?"

janually
Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Remembering Second Year of Medicine

"... and medially it is related to trachea, right laryngeal nerve and oesophagus at the lower part and to two cartilages of larynx; thyroid cartilage and cricoid cartilage, cricothyroid muscle and the inferior constrictor muscle of the pharynx."

He stared out of the window suddenly. Smiled somewhat in melancholy and addressed us.

"I enjoy my life teaching but I can't wait to get away from here to perform the pilgrimage soon." His smile lit up and continued in a soft tone. "I remembered the days when I taught in Saudi Arabia..."

On every Thursday evening, he will take the bus to Makkah. Perform his prayers and umrahs and by Isya', head to Madinah by bus to reach there by 3 am.

Wait for Solat Fajr and Dhuha and prayed Jumaat at Masjidin Nabawi. Drink a cup of syai and take the bus home.

Reach his home by 7 am and get ready for his 8 am lecture.

"Although it is a tedious process, I never get tired." He grinned further to emphasize his point. "It is something I really enjoy."

He turned back towards the transverse drawing of the neck. "I'm sorry to interrupt the lecture, but some memory just cannot be forgotten."

I was already teary.

That's Dr. Hafiz Waly, our Anatomy professor lecturing us on Head & Neck this semester. He was once the head of department which he complained of because it stuck him to his office and away from lecture halls.

I truly enjoyed his class :) He reminded me of a hyper grandpa; so eager to teach and passionate in his way.

Allah yubaarik fik.

p/s: Take note on the transportation by bus. With Arabs. -_-''

---

I suppose when you’ve walked all through life, you tend to share your invaluable titbits with the younger generation.

Today I fully understand why Dr. Akef Khowaileed (عاكف خويلد) is so admirable and renowned probably beyond the department of Physiology; to the point of Dr. Abdel Moniem of CVS last year ordered told us repeatedly to pray for said doctor when he was very much under the weather.

Telling us of his presenting his research on obesity in Scotland, he started his 15 minutes time on stage with a lengthy praises to Allah and salawats on Rasulullah fluently in Arabic.

The Scott physicians asked him about it at the end of his presentation. "What's the connection between your prophet with obesity?"

He told them that he starts all his lectures and presentations with those praises as all knowledge that we have now comes from Allah and we should be grateful to Him and our Prophet Muhammad p.b.u.h.

He addressed the class and told us that ALL knowledge was passed down to Adam and they’re gradually lost through generations who committed sins. Races before us were highly talented and advanced in all field of knowledge; medicine, architecture, astronomy, you name it.

They were capable of building the pyramids in Giza.

The coloured hieroglyph on the walls of temples required no re-colouring nor does it fades.

The mummies are well-preserved until today.

The sun ray shines directly to the throne of this one king’s temple in Abu Simbel twice per year; exactly during his birthday and his day of coronation.

Yet we have just rediscovered their technology.

So praise Allah, 24-7 salawat for Prophet Muhammad and be grateful for all the blessings exclusively of iman and Islam He had given us.

Study hard and well for knowledge and know your God. Do not be a sinner as it darkens your heart from perceiving the light of 3ilm that is truly His.

Allah yubaarik fik.

p/s: We wanted to stay back in his class just now, but we had Anatomy section :(

Zombies for Brain

All my classmates are genius people consisting of the nerdy type who sparks my jealousy and the goofing-off type who definitely sparks my jealousy.

One of them in particular is very smart. An excellent-grade student, nice, easy to talk to regarding any study materials. Already taken and in my opinion, that's easily the best part of this person.

In class the other day we talked about their last night Emergency Room outing, a little bit about yesterday's class and promptly I was asked "Do you remember where does the extrapyramidal system starts from? Is it brainstem?"

For the life of me, I gave a blurred face as an answer followed by a swift "Dunno." And then I took my sit more than a little pissed off at myself. This is basic Physiology. Dr. Akef Khowaileed taught me this part and it is now a distant memory of my earlier days as a medical student.

SUCKS TO BE ME.

I looked it up when I got home and the answer is reticular formation of pons and medulla. Yup, classmate there got the right answer; brainstem.

Now I understand why zombies eat people's brain. Excellent people have theirs made of the good stuff while mine is just a lump of fat. But I know my "lump of fat" is capable of great stuff. I need to unlock it with blessings and back-breaking diligence.

Work hard, Haru!

Manusia Paling Bahagia

Hari ini Kak Chep(ingu) menjemput kami makan di rumahnya. Maka Kak Huda membatalkan hasrat untuk memesan makanan dari Asian Cafe dan kami berenam berangkat ke Lia Safura.

Kami tiba. Kami bertegur sapa sambil duduk. Kak Chep mengangkat tudung saji dan Pipah gembira melihat ayam masak kuning.

Tetapi benda pertama yang saya nampak adalah telur dadar.

TELUR DADAR! \(^__^)/

Kak Chep benarkan saya habiskan telur dadar tersebut. Saya menambah nasi. Dia bertanya samada saya mahu menambah kuah kuning. Saya dengan gembiranya menolak pelawaan tersebut. Kak Chep berkata "Dalam peti ada kicap."

"Takpe," saya menjawab penuh kegembiraan menyuap nasi putih dan telur dadar. "Tak boleh rosakkan keaslian telur dadar."

Saya sudah tidak perlu makan untuk seminggu.

Unthiqohness

This post is a blown-up crack and is not supposed to make sense and in no way reflect my current mental state. Which is mental. Hahaha, get it?? Get it?? I am Joker's freaking lovechild!

This semester my image is set on "punk band-loving girl who smiles at some and ignores others and runs around the hospital in hyper mode". Don't prod me further, I'm not exactly sure what I'm trying to prove. Maybe all the wedding and spawning season has affected me in reverse.

Everything quoted has already been kick-started and I wish myself luck in maintaining this level of hyperness all through graduation. However, since I left my best loved R.E.M. tee among others back home in Malaysia, the "punk" part is pretty much short on resource.

Thus I present to you my current project: Patch the Hoodie Project.

My project this time is to iron-on patch my plain Barney-purple Giordano hoodie which I bought last minute at KLIA satellite terminal. Because everyone needs a statement sweater if not a statement bag and said plain sweater needs to be blinged up anyway.

I have envisioned a Malaysian flag to be patched on my left arm and below it, across the back and towards the right arm will be haphazardly patched with Laruku tour logo. Since one needs a statement sweater, it better be showcasing the greatest band on earth.

Winter is soon arriving so paradoxically speaking, we need to prepare for it with a bang!

---

Earlier today I was heartbroken by an email that made me want to never email people with questions ever and that I am better off doing research on my own. Coupled with the chill that was making me feeling under the weather, I ended up curling in self-pity and skipping the 7am Gynaecology lecture and the 8am ward round.

My intended remedy for heartbreak was buying chocolate biscuit sticks and sucking on endless Chixo before heading for my 9am clinical lecture and vowed never to be seen without some sort of chocolate hanging from my mouth all day.

Chixo is good-old-times in a plastic sheath.  

But it was 8.45 by the time I left my house and I'd be damned if I let any heartbreak make me late for class. So yeah, no chocolate for me.

I feel sorry for myself. Everyone deserves chocolate at their lowest point but I hadn't even the time to buy myself one.

---

In another news, my bat-shit crazy mode apparently is not inclined to give me a break anytime sooner. It gets worse with the resurrection of the need for retail therapy.

Lucky Lucky Lucky Lucky Lucky Lucky

Rory Beca's Lace Blazer now 50% at $71.50!!! MBMJ travel wallet sleeve has 30% off and now at $97!

I will check myself into an asylum. THE END. FOR NOW.

It's Always A Good Time

It was.. refreshing to start your day with the whole class being shouted at by the doctor for sitting in the class waiting for the 9am session to start (it was 9am already) instead of following the clinical round in the adjoining wards.

"Don't blame us for not teaching you when you're the one who doesn't want to be teached! Continue sitting!"

A flurry of movement and everyone moved towards the wards while putting on their white coats. Scanned for our student ID number and designated bed on the freshly put up rooster and shuffled towards our respective patient.

Bed 1's occupant was sleeping. Should we wake him up?

"Why are you guys standing doing nothing?! Go to your assigned bed! Are you people children?!"

Regardless the obvious bad mood the doctor was in, do you really need to be shouted at twice to make a move? The patient remained blissfully unconscious to the world, so we discussed his case and his brain CT with the HO. A case of neuroleptic malignant syndrome. It was in Arabic.

I grasped as much as I could from the discussion and we reconfirmed everything with Mohamed Nasser who reexplained everything the HO said in English. I suspected some of the stuff he explained to us wasn't mentioned by the HO but was from his memory of NMS we studied in Toxicology last year.

Darn you genius Arabs, haha.

Anyway. I need to restudy this stuff. Couldn't figure out why the patient had rashes all over. Drug hypersensitivity?

When Crack is Canon

Yes, Nejiko, don't give up. 

I am sure we still respect you as the cool brooding genius Hyuuga we thought you were.

ROFL

First Day of Fifth Year

In-class lecture Dr. Sahiee taught us Intro to Internal Medicine and I was already overwhelmed. This was more intense than the helplessness I felt when Dr. Omar Barada asked me what was the significant of benign prostatic hyperplasia to an ophthalmology patient. Then she taught us the general scheme of examination.

Clinical round and I got to clerk the case and Dr. Fuad taught us how to inspect and examine the chest. That was fun.

We then went to the outpatient clinic and BAM! a whole load of abdominal patients to clerk and palpate and auscultate and take BP and give bright smiles to despite your insecurity at your lack of organized knowledge and how to proceed with the medical history when you barely understood their complaints (darn my Arabic vocab)!

And lucky me, all the patients were females and I was the only female student around and the patient kicked the guys out so yeah "Hi I'm Hana from fifth year, can I ask a few questions? What's your name, madam?"

And as we reached the chief complaint, the language barrier hit me square on the face. What the hell should I do now? Guys? A little help here?

I didn't expect that for a first day. Culture shock? Welcome to medical school.

In regards to the recent development of Naruto

What the **** is up with the manga right now? I just... I can't even! I'm not going to spoil anything for anyone, but those who have read it know exactly what I'm talking about and I just... it... I have no words!

Kishi, I official (sic) enact the rights of fan discontinuity! As far as I'm concern, this never happened! In fact, I don't even know what I'm talking about any more!

Spoiled Sweet rant in For A Season

I gave up on the manga long already but I don't suggest anyone taking a leaf out of my book because if everyone quit reading Naruto, how else am I going to enjoy this "told you so" moment? Haha.

I am more interested in pursuing the literary hunger of a certain shipping and some others. You'd be surprised just how much better some of the online yet-professional authors are compared to the much-hyped commercially spawned we have nowadays. I haven't really caressed the smooth spine of a paperback lately but I don't exactly feel missed out.

Come to the dark side. I can make you very happy here.

Eat your food fresh

My mom cooked me fried calamari, sweet sour seabass and apam polka dot for my brunch the day I had to fly out of Kota Bharu. Since I was paranoid of missing my flight, I ate a small piece of seabass and packed the fried calamari and apam in separate paper bags and shoved them into my backpack.

At KLIA as I waited for my aunt to meet me, I ate a few pieces of mom's fried calamari with happiness overflowing. For a girl whose lifetime happiness came in the form of Cool Blog Ice-blended Cappucino with Cincau topping at the price of RM4.10, mom's fried calamari was the epitome of euphoria and was priceless.

On board my stomach grumbled but I had no appetite and merely scraped my 10pm dinner. I wanted to take out my fried calamari but the scent would overwhelm the plane. I was sleepy but I couldn't sleep. I wanted to watch movie but all I could manage was The Avengers. Symptoms of an emotionally deranged person.

I didn't want to leave home.

Back in Egypt at dawn, I tidied up and unpacked as much as I could before collapsing in a heap of bones. I was fasting that day and was very looking forward to mom's fried calamari for breakfast.

And finally dusk came. With teary eyes I reached for mom's fried calamari and I chewed. And chewed. And chewed some more with the floodgate now reaching breaking point.

I learned the hard way that after 36 hours of being fried, mom's fried calamari became a sentimental piece of rubber. No amount of waterwork could bring the freshness back. Not eating mom's food right away was the biggest regret of my life.

Writing this was torture itself but I need to pen this so that my future self and generations will not commit the same mistake again.

Author's note:

If you think I am sissy then I think you are mean. If you think I am sentimental then I think I love you. If your answer is not stated above then please state so in the provided comment form. If you think none of the above then please cultivate your mind and generate witty ideas by standing still in a corner while holding a bucketful of water in each hand. Thank you.

hit the call button and smile. talk for three minutes average and hang up. sigh a relief that you made it.

it's nearly 11. i don't touch my phone after 9. scratch that, i won't touch my phone at all if i can help it. send me a pigeon or paper plane or whatever instead.

and still my mom is making me call everyone... i call this psychological abuse. i am scarred. i want to throw my phone into the Nile.

---

i did some soul-searching and i decided my tic against phone is unexplainable. this is one of life's example of stuffs you just have to accept without understanding why.

a phone is a mean to let my parents know of my whereabout. i should get a gps implanted under my skin and just throw my phone into the Nile, end of story.

Everything

Some people can do anything. Some other awesome people can do everything.

Like my mom.

She practices delegation but most of the time she wants us to get to it now, despite my assurance that I am going and will get to it but my Anthony Bourdain will conclude in ten minutes so please let me do it afterwards?

And after ten minutes, I go and see that she has already done what she asked me to. I could only stare after her and buzz off to do something else, like my real calling instead.

---

I think I do that to people all the time; not counting on them and just get on with the job. Good-natured people will feel bad but I nevertheless do it with no hard feelings. It is best to just get the job done and over with.

But it feels quite painful to be at the receiving end of it.

Sabah

Today Big Bro was interviewed by the SPA for his FYDO placement (the equivalent of us HO except dental students are only subjected to one year of scrutinization). He told us that his interviewer told him that "The reefs and islands of Sabah are very beautiful."

"Is he hinting that I'm going to be stationed in Sabah?" Hadi asked.

I could only say Pak Long had been prophetic. When we met him last week, he joked to Big Bro that he might be posted somewhere near the military base in Pulau Layang-Layang.

We at home discussed the possibility. Mom wanted to ask a relative of ours to ask his friend at the administration level to NOT post Big Bro to Sabah. But Dad said "It's okay. Even I got posted to Sarawak." 

"So that means I'm going to be sent to Sarawak too?" I quipped.

"No you stay here." Dad said without missing a beat.

I laughed. That reaction was completely understandable. After several years of running off without a care for the world, of course Dad wanted me cooped up. If he's lucky, I might even get HRPZ2; first posting is paediatric department.

Jangan bawak pulut masuk dusun.

Suatu hari dahulu, Mak Teh jumpa Ateh dekat dusun dan bawak pulut untuk makan tengahari. Tiba-tiba Mak Teh menangis teresak-esak.

"Kenapa dah lama tak jumpa kami? Dah tak ingat dekat kami ke?" Mak Teh sedih sambil tersedu.

Ateh terus bawak Mak Teh balik rumah. Bila ditanya, Mak Teh kata dia tak ingat apa-apa pun.

Chik kata, dulu arwah atuk selalu buat makan-makan dekat dusun. Buat majlis doa selamat je pun. Makan pulut dan durian beramai-ramai.

Kesimpulan daripada kisah ini adalah:
1- jangan bawak pulut masuk dusun.
2- kekalkan hubungan yang baik dengan jiran-jiran anda.

Selamat beramal.

22

Two things happened today:
1) I turn 22.
2) I am officially a fifth year medical student.

Same as last year, our batch's final exam results come out the same day as my birthday. God's gift besides another breath of life is ease of this overthinking mind on this date. Alhamdulillah, glory to none but Allah!

This calls for extended qiamullail and a red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and shaved white chocolate topping, hehe.

Mom wants me to think and act more maturely now that I am 22 and I concur. But I have been told by friends and colleagues that I am too matured. This is rather conflicting. Maybe our family is just different.

Taekwan-do Kids versus Big Sister with a Master Headlock

Melle and Maru had their grading yesterday. I had my breakfast of The Nasi Ayam Mok Noh while the kids were warming up.

Nasi Ayam Mok Noh. This has been our staple since 1997. Maybe even before that. If you become my guest, breakfast is on me.

Melle was practicing her pattern with her friends, doing so deliberately and artfully while Maru was running around playing with his friends. I called for him and told him to practice and a good boy he is, he stopped in his track and did his pattern. Quick, smooth and precise, smiling that monkey grin all the way.

I was so swelled my grin was Chesire.

It is befitting that the last in the family is a sunny sanguinous monkey as oppose to the melodramatic perfect Melancholic that is Melle.

Maru then went chasing his friends for a while before practicing another set of pattern and another and then he sparred with his friends.

You should have seen him. He gave four successive kicks without missing a beat, crouched and blocked and proceeded to hell out punches.

Front kick, back kick and jumping kick (jumping kick was not in Grade 6 syllabus). I was so proud at little boy I would had scooped him up in a hug. But I was considerate not to drop down his machismo level, haha. (I am his sister, I can humiliate him anytime I want.)

Monkey King Hakim (8 years old) on the left with his friend Ashimudin (11 years old).

Maru was a mighty offense. But his problem was that that monkey didn't block as efficiently as he attacked. He'd rather jump out of the way and counter-kick than blocking kicks properly.

That was something we will definitely work on.

They passed their grading with one grade. You can give the kids a black belt for all I care, but I'd win them with a Master Headlock anytime.

Nasi Lemak TC at Jalan Kuala Krai near JKR. This stuff is also a staple dated back in 1997. My favourite is with sambal kerang. 

We went home and ate Nasi Lemak Sambal Kerang Bersinar, formerly known and I still call it Nasi Lemak TC. (I will eat whatever I want now that I am home and leave housemanship period once I graduate to do the thinning for me.)

Bear That Pain

When we were doing our debate thing, they gave us a motion that required us to dig into the private health sector of America. It was a cool experience, conflicting actually, because mom works in the private health sector so I wasn't thinking objectively.

Anyway, let's put that aside. Post debate, I was Wiki-ing Justin Bieber and he mentioned something negative about USA helth sector, which would have been a point for our coolness should we used it.

Bieber has said he is not interested in obtaining United States citizenship and has criticized America's health care system. Praising Canada as being "the best country in the world", he cited its health care system as a model example.

And then there's that scene in CSI Miami season 9, when the guys interrogated a Mala Noche member. Leuitenant Caine shot his shoulder to bring him down and Wolfe pressed on his wound to make him talk. The guys got what they wanted and left the thug to be apprehanded.

He yelled his cut of the bargain, "Where's my hospital?!" to which Caine replied, "You ain't got the insurance."

Heh. The private health sector in USA is sad.

Swing

Marrybrown had this sectioned area with different kinds of seat. I spotted the sofa and I badly needed to sink into something soft so I made my way towards it. That was when I saw the swing-seat section.

My inner kid leaped in joy. I took my Crocs off and swung my seat while I ate my burger.

So I was polishing my yogurt, my seat taking a steady swinging when a group of three MAS worker came near my section. The only guy in the group was uber excited as he coaxed the two ladies to please let's seat on the swing. It'll be fun, we can swing around!

I smirked. That was one guy after my own heart, haha.

P/s: Those three turned out to be the cabin crew of my flight back to Kota Bharu.

Idle Girl to Abu Dhabi

Etihad was pretty cool.

The current movie selection was rather boring actually, but their album collection was OMG. They had two albums on Queen, one on The Script (I would have been doing cartwheel if not the fact I'm on board a plane) and an entire album of AC/DC!

Haha THUNDERstruck! I was officially on bat-shit crazy OKC fan mode.

To be fair to fans of sissy boys, there were JBiebs and One Direction albums as well. In a tribute to Kemal who enjoys vocal powerhouse ladies, Celine Dion was also there to be enjoyed.

Life was therefore balanced.

In another news, I walked from Saidina Hussein to Mounira last night. Rabid taxies wouldn't pick us up and there was no way I'm waiting around. Went to three different supermarkets on the way back because a certain little sister wanted Temmy's Papaya Granola Bars, with no luck. Bought Power Flakes with Raisin instead.

Was sore all over, passed out twice in the tub during a 30-minute soak, packed my luggage with uncooperative upper limbs yet sleep failed to come until 4.30 in the morning. Was awoken from my sprawl on the floor three hours later by an affectionate lovebite on my earlobe courtesy of the ants. Stupid perverts made rather good wake-up alarm.

Told the sister about her granola bars and that little prick had the nerve to be ungrateful. Now another reason to look forward to my flight home was to be able to wring her neck and smack her head really hard with the Power Flakes I bought her that she ended up with counter-coup contusion.

Ahh. Something to look forward to.

At the Abu Dhabi airport, the officer let a family of Arabs cut the line in front of me. I muttered "Ain't that f---ed up" and yes I am rotten, I know. Then I saw it was a family with three kids.

My muttering continued, "Great. Kids. I should get fat and claim I am pregnant."

So They Are Gentlemen

I was reading something (inappropriate, considering our last viva is tomorrow) and there was a scene where the girl got off her shift at 11pm. She was going to walk home alone when her supervisor saw her and he thus offered her a ride. She politely refused, but the stoic snobbish worship-me-you-heathen supervisor insisted because- oh what the hell, just read the lines and you'd see what I mean.

After a moment of what seemed to be painful internal debate, Sasuke scowled and walked over to her. "I'll give you a ride." He said gruffly and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"No, it's really o-okay--"

"Don't be stupid." He snarled. "Do you want to be assaulted?"

"Wh-why are you offering?"

Scowling, he buckled his seat belt and replied, "Because Itachi would kill me for letting a girl walk home alone in the dark at eleven o'clock at night."

My jaw dropped. All this while I was under the illusion that girls-should-not-walk-alone crap was all in the overprotective Messiah-complexed Malay's mind and severely concocted in our community here in Egypt. I didn't expect the same sentiment to be entertained by a Canadian, even calling it "gentleman"ly.

Gentleman by vitellan on Deviantart.

So this.. protective sentiment has to be the common sense, eh? Totally got past me, so is my common not mainstream then? I am sorely misguided... 

Okay don't bite me, I've enough ant bites to fear anaphylactic shock already. I take my leave now. Bye.

Path We Chose #3

21 Feb 18:06

Disclaimer: This post, as most of my posts, is highly analogous. What I write is not what you understand. Continuing reading will waive your right to object otherwise.

Strangely enough despite facts about my relationship status, I know what it's like to be happily married for a year and suddenly he says to you, "The reason I'm staying is because I'd be lonely without you. And I haven't found another stable relationship yet." And he is openly working towards establishing another stable relationship.

You feel stabbed. You want to kick him in the groin. You long to say, "Get lost, you selfish jerk." You want a divorce right away.

Because I am a self-proclaimed level-headed and rational person, I react with a masked face and a simple nod. I listen to his rationalization and calmly sip my coffee like we are discussing the many breeds of cat. I hum when appropriate. But when I look up to look him in the eyes, I make sure it is hard and there is not a drip of approval in my glance.

And I can't help feeling stabbed.

Syeikh Rohim told us once how to properly react when your husband propose to having a second wife; that is to consider whether you want to be the first wife like a boss or become the unwanted widow shunted by the community.

But for me, in this case, I don't think there's any ounce of sincerity left for us to go on when the thread remains reeks of undiluted selfishness. And when sincerity is long lost, thus the time to stop.

True, he's physically still around and maybe Allah is giving me another chance to work harder and make him stay for good. But I can't feel his heart present with us and I'd be damned, but I am tired of human; they are so messed up. I never was a people person before him and I am sorely tempted to become my old self again. The one with the self-centered, devil-may-care, I-don't-give-a-damn attitude.

They said when you love someone, you don't give up. Perhaps. Had I been a better person, maybe I won't give up.

MAG and Me

When I just started my first year, we celebrated Kak Battah's batch graduation during the winter and as a young reporter at that time, my assignment was to interview her on video and pass the clip to Abang Warouq who will be doing the compilation.

Assignment was delegated by Kak Radin, then big boss of BPP. So I called Kak Battah and she told me the direction to her house (take the Metro and stop at Ghamra, take the microbus towards Awwal Maqram and get down when you see a ministry building on your right. Walk into the street and turn at the first left, enter building number-I-don't-remember-now on your right).

Take note I was a first year student in Cairo, barely three months into my stay in Egypt and already wandering beyond the neighbourhood alone. I was a brave lass. Lol.

So that morning I went to Kak Battah's house she shared with Kak Nik. They were packing and there were also Kak Nik from Alex. I asked whether Kak Battah was ready to be interviewed, in which she told me to interview Kak Nik instead since Kak Battah will be giving a speech during the ceremony.

Interview taken, video edited and even subtitled. I dropped the video to my then boss Kak Fathy to be picked up by Abang Warouq before running off to catch the public bus towards Thamin to cover the MAG ceremony. I was dead late and Safwan had been calling me so many times wondering where I was (I reject his calls after a few times because I got lost and was too egoistic to admit that to a male senior).

Kak Radin saved me that day. All seniors I encountered were very kind I could cry.

---

When I was in second year, I got involved as an AJK for Kak Aniah's batch graduation. The rest of AJKs were the batch-after (Abang Ayep, Abang Aslam, Abang Faizal and Kak Bid) with the notoriously famous Kak Pink and this was how I get to know them and concurrently the close kinship, lol. Lucky me!

We had graduates from Cairo University and Ain Shams University, so I prepared the questions and asked Kak Fathy to interview the Cairo graduates, my housemates (haha bullied) to interview Kak Asma and I took the ASU graduates. Rahman took care of interviewing the male seniors.

So as last year, I called Kak Zawil up and she gave me directions to her house she shared with Kak Daing and Kak Laili (go to the bus stop at the end of Maarad and walk ahead along the big road until you find a chicken shop on your left. Enter the building next to it.)

They thought I would be coming with friends (because good girls don't go wandering to new places alone) and Kak Laili already prepared the best dhal gravy I ever had to be eaten with fresh fatiroh from the bakery. We had the shot while they were going through daily tasks and wrapping up the boxes to be shipped home.

It amazed me how easy for us to get along. They were seniors older than me and I was just a pesky kid running around with a camera and a notepad. They were friendly and helpful and I had no reason to be awkward at all. Naturally the leftovers were too much so I brought them back home, hehe.

Kak Fathy had me to accompany her during interviewing Kak Aniah since it was done at the futsal pitch of Zinhoum; Kak Aniah the good wife was cheering for her husband during the final match of LiQa 2010 and it was Waadul Haq versus Fawwaz at that time.

Supposedly I just interview them and Rahman do the video compiling, but later he asked me to compile them as well.. Truthfully I am better at interviewing than doing the technical job, but we need to be outside our comfort zone sometimes, right? Well actually had he not been a neighbour and a senior from Hadi's batch, I would never had given him any slack.

At that time, I had the worse time trying to edit the video. Abang Ayep and Abang Aslam kindly called time after time asking me was it done yet and was there anything they could help but I was probably too stressed out to give an honest answer.

But the video did turned out okay, at least Abang Faizal seemed to be happy with it. During post-mortem meeting/party I took a lot of beating but nevertheless, I had fun.

Kak Zawil, Kak Daing and Kak Laili later came over to my place and they made friends with old Yuuno. They even registered themselves to be in Kelab Sahabat Yuuno, haha.

trees are made for hanging

there's a huge tree outside my balcony. kinda like the old tree at the end of the field of my primary school which i spent climbing and jumping off during my lunch breaks. except this tree, the one outside my balcony, doesn't have that kind of thick sturdy branch that allows petite girls (hey i still fit my adolescent clothes) to safely hang around.

what a waste. trees are made to be climbed and jumped off and hung around.

so bored..