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.