Make every second worth living

As usual, nobody wanted to take the history. I didn't want to because the hardest part of Neurology sheet is the patient's complaint. But the patient was present and the doctor was insisting and I shouldn't give any excuses to be weak. So I took out my pen and notepad and "Maisarah, let's go."

The patient was a male, so when I stood up, I offered the guys again as whoever took the sheet got to examine the patient. As expected, nobody else wanted to take the history. Heh. And we all complain Egyptian system doesn't expose us to much clinical skills, bullshit.

I introduced myself and got his permission. Took the personal history smoothly and we came to his complaint.

I sweat-dropped and turned to Maisarah. "There's problem with his back and he's having difficulty in walking. But I couldn't understand the rest."

"Let's tick off symptomatology. Hana, ask leading questions."

I asked him if he had numbness in his lower limb. Bingo. Analysed it and suddenly, a hospital staff called the patient away. The patient smiled and excused himself. The doctor walked in.

"Wrong patient?" I asked him.

"Yes. You're taking motor neuron diseases today, not peripheral neuropathy."

I returned to my seat. Another patient came in and the doctor asked the class who would take the sheet. My head was down summarising what little of the history I had just took. He repeated the question many times until finaly he said, "Can the one who took the peripheral neuropathy take this patient's sheet?" I nodded, stood up and drew a chair while smiling and greeting the patient.

She smiled and before I could introduce myself, she launched into her personal history. Haha.

I asked her complain and jotted it down. It was quite a task trying to complete the sheet and listen to what the doctor was telling the class in the same time. The doctor turned to me and asked what she complained of. "Muscle weakness in the upper limb since two years and two months ago." I proceeded with the analysis while the doctor translated what I asked and the patient answers to the class.

Standard OCD, left or right, distal or proximal, erm what else? 

"Doctor how do I ask for the tone?"

The doctor said to me in Arabic and the patient answered straight away. I understood she meant hypotonia. "What else should I ask?"

"You have to ask about wasting. Do you know wasting in Arabic?"

"La' ma'raftush..."

The doctor semi-laughed. I'm sorry, I will go boil and drink the medical phrasebook right after class. He said the word for wasting in Arabic. I need to spell it in my head in order to get a word right, so I asked him to repeat. The patient then smiled at me and said, "Aiwah, ana 'andi wasting fi iidi.."

The class laughed. I laughed defeatedly and hung my head. Still laughing, I asked the kind madam "Maalish, il-wasting dah maugud fiin bizzobt?"

"Next you have to ask for fasciculation. Do you know what it is in Arabic?"

"It's raffah fil a'dalah." Oh boy was I proud with myself for nailing that one, lulz. The patient immediately rolled her sleeve and showed me her spontaneously fasciculating biceps.

It's embarrassing to think it has been months in Internal Medicine yet I still haven't memorized the Neuro sheet in Arabic. Must work harder la like this.

---

We came to the theoretical part of the session for motor neuron disease. The doctor said the mixed type we were taking, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, has a 3-year survival rate.

"Once the patient develop bulbar symptoms, we are worried because next it will be the respiratory affection." And that was the end because they haven't found a cure for degenerative disease yet.

I stopped writing. The earlier madam was kind, helpful and cheerful. She said her condition started two years and two months ago, so that means she only have ten months to go. She has three children and the youngest is 11 years old...

Neurology is saddening.

Rurouni

Tonight, I sang to OneRepublic's Marchin On.

And then I stopped because I realised I was in no position to sing "But with what we have, I promise you that we're marchin on, we're marchin on, we're marchin on" when all I did was squat the life out of someone else's life.

Time to hit the road tomorrow.

---

Last night I told Umair what I'd like to name my first two boys. That night I was looping Nsync and I thought, if someone sang This I Promise You to me, I'd melt straight away.

I realised then it was the biological clock talking. During my course of anthropological studies, I observed stuff like this happened to middle-aged women. But I'm only 23... Maybe there is merit to that 48-year-old test result I received recently.

That night when I sleep, I dreamt (read: nightmared) my mom married me off to some skinny guy called Andy who we knew nothing about... The ridicule is creepy, plus I don't know any Andy except Andou in Dengeki Daisy and Shinhwa no Andy.

And today at school Fadzlin told me she asked Chot about Beit Muslim procedure on my behalf and Chot said it'd be easier if I tell him who I want and he'll proceed for me.

That reminded me of earlier after the fire and how I needed to find a place for one. The girls suggested for me to get married (once married, the both of us will move into a couple house and thus solve my need for a new place). During that time I was seriously considering all the options I had, so Fadzlin volunteered to ask Chot for me.

But now, with my head clearer from all the soot and inhalation-injury-inducing oxides of nitrogen, it seemed silly to solve two problems (that and I lost my gold ring) with another bigger problem. I thanked Fadzlin for her effort.

It's Ammar Khairy and Ali Nasrullah by the way. I'll include this in the prenuptial.

---

The latest update of Horimiya was hilariously heartwarming. Hahaha.

2013

January:
Paeds end round
Secretary for ABTHAL
WinG and war game
ABTHAL

February:
Kak Elle came
Akmal and Abang Effy cooked
Went for drinks

Balqis balik
Missed Abang Effy's graduation
Attended Cairo grad

STEP preparation

March:
Lost my ipod
STEP

April:

May:
Kak Nad married
Kids came to Cairo

Punched Arab
Kak Elle gatsby

June:
GMJ
Exam
Riot

July:
Gastric ulcer perhaps
End of exam
Home
Work conference
Birthday

August:
Run away to Irama Beach
Work conference
Refreshed soon to prove as short-lived

September:
Busan Namja invited me over for a quarter-life crisis

October:
Eid with family
Back to Cairo

Class soon to start

November:
Pipah BFG to UMS

December:
18 my house on fire.
24 referred by Sayyeda precint to go to HQ Cairo. The day before there was a bomb at Mansurah so I prayed nobody bomb the Cairo HQ that day and proceeded.
They refer me to Abbasiyah that I'm unfamiliar with. I probably need to skip more class and this is the most distressing part.

26 meet with ambassador. Asked for their help. Felt like successkid.jpg

Superseniors never endorsed me as a halQi member

We were writing attendance for the meet program with the ambassador. The girl next to me who introduced herself as a third year junior earlier passed me the paper and I saw her full name. I voted for this name during the recent PERUBATAN election.

"You're the new exco?" She nodded sheepishly. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. But it's more towards condolences."

I chuckled. "But you guys were running voluntarily, so I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to say condolences."

Her laugh sounded restrained. I probably just imposed on her the image of a weird senior. I wrote my attendance.

Hemorrhagic Infarction

Today in class we took Stroke. The doctor said when you have large surface of cerebral affection, you may need to do a hemicraniotomy or else the swelling will lead to conization.

"The patient will have dense hemiplegia (complete loss of motor power in one half of the body) but at least you saved his life."

Is it really that important to live?

After the fire, everyone kept telling me that what is most important is that everyone is safe. Yeah, I suppose. With everyone safe, the aftermath I have to deal with is a bitch in itself, if someone had died it would surely be a homicidal migrainous bitch.

It is a pain to lose everything and starting back from scratch, but having to locate and repair everything before it can be usable again is also a pain in itself.

I want to give up.

Learn and Adapt

1) Be a responsible and mature adult by picking up the pieces with confidence.

2) You have to do ample research to save time. But there is always an element of gambling in life, so take justifiable risks anyway.

3) You have to be on time. No matter who you are, time is always life. It shows your sincerity and your respect when you are on time.

4) There is no merit to skipping class. Most of the time, even when you think your business is more important, it is not worth it to skip class.

5) Don't ever stand people up. It's not your excuses they want to hear, people would just appreciate you telling them you were not going to make it. Calling people is a sign of respect. Not doing so and simply stood them up for whatever reason implies your time is far far superiorly more precious than theirs. That's just plain narcissism and pitifully conceited.

6) No matter how mature you try to act, you will always succumb to some random authoritative adult taking care of you.

7) It is good to be wary. A healthy dose of fear keeps you safe. Be calculative but don't be paranoid.

8) Not all police are thugs. The ones we met are actually very helpful people. As I said, be calculative but don't be paranoid.

9) Everything has its own place. Be organised and don't misplaced things, for sanity sake.

10) No matter how tough you try to act, you will always succumb to the kindness shown by random strangers.

11) You can speak and understand Arabic better than you think you can.

12) There are some social facts you cannot change. For everything else, do what you need to do and don't complain unless it makes a difference. Ranting will only make you feel better, but it's only temporary. You will feel stupid for complaining over unchangeable things afterwards. Instead, recite اللهم انك عفو كريم تحب العفو فاعفو عني over and over again and may God not make the sins you have done as the reason for you going through difficulties. What is important is things get done.

13) Vent out physically. Wear shoes and kick stuffs, just try not to do any damage in the process. Wear pants and walk all the way to your next destination.

14) Banana milk is the best. Don't buy chocolate milk.

15) You don't need company, it's just going to waste their time because things can be done by a single person, that is you. Company is mere moral support, you can get that by having a live-in strong character in your head. So be mentally strong and don't waste other people's time.

16) How many times must I say, time is life.

17) Don't beg for help, please don't ever beg for help. At the first sign of reluctance, back off straight away and restrategize. Persisting in asking for their help will only lead to accumulation of tears, and this is my next point.

18) Don't ever cry in front of anyone. Don't you effing dare to cry in front of anyone.

19) You are allowed to open up to one person at a time. Use him wisely, for he has his own things to take care of.

20) Don't worry your parents. You are only allowed to be vulnerable when you are face-to-face with them. Otherwise, don't effing worry them.

21) At the end of the day, you can only depend on God.

22) Don't bother people with small talks.

23) Don't yell at people who bother you with small talks.

24) Leave me alone.

25) Pretend that life is as usual, it will help people to live on.

26) You have to survive in order to live.

Aftermath is a Beach

The title is a pun.

There has been two options as of late. A, do what I want. B, do what will trouble the least number of people.

And thus I am stuck between being a happy selfish person and being a selfless submissive little sheep. I haven't prayed Istikharah yet. Maybe that's the main problem here.

I thought of asking random people which choice would they go for. Umair scolded me when I asked her A or B and told me instead to choose the third option of doing what I want and trouble the least number of people.

Except that further stump me, and here I am.

For someone who wants to make her own decision, I sure am indecisive. Maybe deep down I just want my dad to take things over for me and let me lay down on the floor of my room and stare at the leaking ceiling.

I understand now the desperation of wanting things to return to how it was before.

Always know what you want

They say I'm cool and brave and that the moment I lose my cool it is a sure sign of catastrophe, but right now I really want to sit in a corner and cry. They call me reliable and responsible, but right now I really want my dad to hear me out and take over things for me.

I want my dad to be here and take care of all this ordeal. Everyday he asked me how I was doing, if I was okay. I had to choose my words meticulously because I know they worry about me and helpless enough as it was, the last thing they need is to listen to me needing help but unable to help. It makes me feel worse to trouble them like that and at the end of the day, I still have to do this shit anyway so let's just walk through hell till the end.

I want to lay on the floor and stare at the patchy ceiling of mine, but dammit my place reeks of smoke now. So I crawl into someone else's bed, close my eyes under someone else's cover, and all I see is a flickering red in a sea of darkness and the sound of wood burning.

Slap me now. I need a psychiatrist.

Snow

It snowed today in Egypt.

But because the cold weather is known to induce bronchospasm in me, I decided to stay in my room and study, regardless today was the Family Day of PERUBATAN Cawangan Kaherah.

Suddenly, a drop of water noisily splashed onto the carpet. I stared at it and blinked. Another drop came down and I blinked again in denial. Third drop was even noisier and I let out an exasperated scream.

Kak Milah rushed out of the room to get a bucket and came to my rescue. She went around the house looking for leaking spots on the ceiling and fortunately there was none. I was the only misfortuned Ayyashian aboard.

I glared at the leaking ceiling and snuggled back under my cover, continuing my study.

Suddenly, a drop of water splashed on my head. I looked up and there was another leaking point exactly on my head. I screamed bloody murder as another drop fell down and pulled the cover over Kevin, my pillows and books.

Another bucket was placed on my bed, over the cover. Kak Milah and I stared at the bed. Where am I going to study now? It's cold and I need my cover.

"Three months... Three months and you guys will go back for good, and I'm out here." I muttered.

She laughed awkwardly.

We discussed whether to move the bed temporarily to the middle of the room or place it parallel to the other wall away from the leaking ceiling. The second option will need the study table aka the bookshelf to be moved as well, thus a total rearrangement of my side of the room.

It was tedious. "Books too heavy."

"We'll do it together."

Kak Milah has her Surgery second paper the day after tomorrow and here she was, staring along at my stuffs. I felt bad. I approached my bed to take my book underneath the cover and noticed water splash all over the cover. Pieces of ceiling paint were also splattered on the cover.

It was bad.

We moved the bed as per first option. But then with the bed in the middle of the room, it was messy and annoying, God!

"I'll think of something less tedious while I clean up later."

48 year old geezer

Today at 11.30am I stood in the doorway and stared into the kitchen and this conversation took place in my head.

"I want milk."

"We need to eat la last meal was 5pm dinner."

"But I want milk. Loads." I looked around the kitchenware and spotted two of my mugs; a heirloom from Kak Bid and a soup mug birthday present from Kak Biha. "One mug not enough, two mugs too troublesome, not enough anyway."

"We don't have tall mug."

"Must go buy tall mug tomorrow."

Spotted a small jug. "How about warm milk in a jug?"

"Yaa we have that straw."

I imagined myself studying while drinking endless milk from the jug via the straw. So after three minutes of staring I proceeded to gleefully make myself a jug of warm milk.

Brought the jug into my room. The warmth was heavenly on my palms, I decided to forgo the straw and drink straight from the jug. It was wonderful.

An hour later I had to go back into the kitchen for more warm fluid. Ended up cooking instant noodle for the sake of the broth.

---

I keep having to remind myself "You're 23, act your age, stop lazying, we have to excel this." But to no avail, I'm just too lazy. I suppose I'm still too youtful.

Until this test shattered all the illusion I considered reality. 48 years old grr.

Conflicted

I was going to study but then Haru said

"studying.. It's pointless! Since it's got fixed answers, it should be very easy, right?"

Says the guy who finished reading his materials way before.

ربنا يستر

Kak Milah said their Surgery paper today asked Anatomy questions like something-fistula (no not AV fistula) and anterior rectal fascia and whatsit. Their doctor comforted them pre-exam that the questions would be crystal clear but they didn't expect such crystal clear questions were of minor topics.

"We expected Anatomy questions would be like hernia.."

"Or neck, thyroid."

"Yeah."

So Ijud advised us to study minor topics well and #crystalclear had become a running gag.

It's cold today and the weather forecast warned of showers so I put on my usual winter coat this morning. But I didn't expect it to be that cold. The weather sure is bipolar around here.

There was an anti-coup demonstration on campus today but apparently I missed out because I was still at the hospital at that time auscultating a 41 years old female with double mitral, aortic stenosis and tricuspid regurge.

Dr. Abeer said the patient has small volume pulse so I checked her pulse and compared it with mine. It was similar. Damn.

"Does this mean I have small volume pulse as well?"

I had palpitation at rest a few days ago and with this revelation, I felt like going down to the ER and hook myself to an ECG machine.

And in Al-Azhar University, the military continued to violently dehumanize the students in particular and us human in general. There is an illusion of peace in this country with targeted and localized dehumanisation and if you stop caring, you will forever be a fool.

Our midround Internal Medicine exam was announced to be next Monday at 8am. Which is brilliant because we have Tropical Medicine endround exam at 12pm. On top of that, my group was scheduled to present our seminar on Fever of Unknown Origin at 9am same day but I couldn't confirm with the doctor whether it is still on or postponed (though logic dictates it is postponed but you never know, we do have Murphy's Law). We were scheduled to compile our work tomorrow.

Because it's cold, I am planning to skip out on our hospital session tonight. It's either that or be dependent on turbohaler.

To balance this post, an Arab colleague of Ijud commented on his status that the only good thing that happened to him today was when Dr. Hussein Khairy passed in front of him in the exam hall.

Now that is a sight for any sore eye.

random advice

it hurts. it's okay if you want to cry. you were so brave.
you are strong. you will learn from this. you will survive.

you will be okay.

We could feel tired at one time, I don't care about it either, give me a few more minutes

When I went to the 7.30am class this morning, my friends told me my eyes were puffy, didn't I get enough sleep last night?

Last night I crashed somewhere not my own and I more or less sleep less when I don't have Kevin with me, so the latter part was a possible. But I used the mirror this morning but I didn't notice anything amiss. I think I looked about normal.

Is it possible that my eyes are puffy every morning that I forgot what normal looks like? This is bad, I thought. If this goes on I wouldn't be able to differentiate mild eyelid edema in a nephrotic patient.

"Kenapa kata sembab? Kenapa bukan eyelid edema?" I asked her. "Kenapa tanya tak cukup tidur, kenapa tak kata nephrotic syndrome?"

"Kan nak kerja kat Kota Bharu!" She laughed at me. For the life of me, I didn't get the joke. "Orang sebut sembab la."

"Oh." Moments like this makes me feel so skema and need to get a life.

Class ended at 11. I went home, prayed Zohor and skipped Dr. Husam Mowafy's class in favour of catching up with my sleep.

Magnanimous

It has always been a habit, one of the things I do to remind myself of independence, to never let a guy pay for me. But Acap wouldn't take my money and if I try to slip the money into his jeans pocket, I'd be called a pervert. His sweater pocket was out of question because he kept his hands inside it all the time. With his slouching posture (I suppose it's the side effect of being so tall living among the rest of us minions lol) and hands inside his pocket, he reminds me of the ever cool Kakashi. 

Minus the hardback porn. Or maybe it's hidden somewhere..

Anyway, it reduced me to a sheepish "Thanks Acap." and later "Sure I don't have to call you Abang Acap?"

One of the things I learned today is that you cannot live being a frugal and minding person. We should limit our passion to effort and friendship.

The both of them were behaving like big bro and big sis today. They were taking the babysitter thing seriously, bullying me around and paying for my food. Using the Syria card to make sure I mop up my ice-cream when I was already full with dinner, it was evil. I was on the verge of throwing up and there they were, laughing at me. If it was anyone else they'd be long dead.

It was then that I realised it was a belated birthday treat. Ehehe. Friends don't usually celebrate my birthday, so it was a first in a very long time for me.

---

I believe that there must be balance in life, and since I bully pretty much anyone I can, I allow myself to be bullied by the people I respect at intervals.

Plus I'm more masochist than I am a sadist, so yeah..

Nuclear Bomb

The first Paediatric case I presented in class was a 6 years old boy named Ziyad complaining of abdominal distension.

His mom told me during the course of history-taking that her son was admitted 12 times because of respiratory infection, but that week we were supposed to cover Gastroenterology so I was too caught up with the abdominal part of the case and my pissing off with myself for not understanding some of the mother's word, his pneumonia simply went loss on me.

And so I presented the short case to Dr. Samuel Makar that day.

He asked about chest symptoms. I told him the mother mentioned but I didn't understand everything. He turned to the mother and asked her in their mother-tongue.

"12 times admitted from chest infection," the doctor turned to me. "This is a nuclear bomb you missed. A nuclear bomb."

You should have seen his face when he said those words to me. It was grim. I was stunned. I felt damn stupid, I was a disgrace to my family, my Paediatrician dad would be so ashamed of me I wouldn't blame him if he declare I was actually adopted.

"Abdomen and chest symptoms. What do you think?"

I don't know, so I told him so.

"This case might be tough for you, it's not a very common case," he continued. "This is a case of cystic fibrosis."

I reemerged from my self-pitying state with those words. Cystic fibrosis. I swore I will not forget that disease, the importance of good clerking and Dr. Samuel Makar who taught that class.

Anyway, since I presented the case, I got to examine the patient. Dr. Samuel seemed strict and firm with us but he was gentle with the boy, distracting him by asking what was his favourite show on TV and his favourite characters while examining his abdomen. He showed us the trick of palpating a kid's liver (running your fingers like playfully poking the child, but you're expected to palpate with the lateral border of the hand in an exam) and he let me palpate Ziyad's hepatomegaly.

I used that trick a month later while independently taking history of a naughty 4 years old boy with ITP. He chuckled.. so cute.

Other classes we had with him include a rheumatology case in which he taught the sheet for Rheumatology (a first for us) and a sad case of complicated hydrocephalus boy. I could see clearly his grim face as he addressed us, away from the mother, at the poor overall condition the baby was in and how his mother sought medical help late. Hydrocephalus was a relatively straightforward case, the boy's condition was generally preventable.

"I will not comment."

I learned the value of teaching without judging, how medicine is an art of educating people to do good to them without passing off judgement. We all have our battles.

Which reminds me of a story my dad told us about when he was stationed in Sarawak.

One time he frowned at a patient's son for bringing the patient late to the hospital. The son answered him calmly, that they lived far away from the hospital and the trip took a week or so via the river if the water-level is up to it, or else it would take a fortnight.

Dad was rightfully humbled.

Sex Ed For Dummies

When we studied Sexual Education under Andrology, our doctor told us that sex ed must be taught regardless the community we are in. But first let us define the basics.

Sex ed is organized information on sexuality that is related to the ethical principles of the community. The basic is that we are teaching about how to deal with the physiological, anatomical, and psychological changes that relate to growing up, so that everyone will have a positive attitude towards sexuality.

Since it is based on the principles of your audience, for a Muslim community, we are teaching people those basics I mentioned before. In the west, safe sex, prevention of STD transmissions and avoiding teenage pregnancy are probably a crucial part of their syllabus. Again, because of the principles of the community.

For a Muslim community, we are not teaching how to practice safe sex because extramarital relationship is against the principles of a Muslim community and we are not teaching how to have sex because this is innate, even animals do this and no one taught them how to. Though some people might need help in this department.. that is why Andrologists and Sex Therapists exist.

This teaching is ideally the responsibility of the parents to be implemented at a young age, as young as 3-6 years old. During this time, a child is going through the phase of gender identity. Teach him/her the differences between male and female, teach him/her humility, and teach him/her that some areas are sacred and not to be exposed/touched even by the opposite-sex parent. Also, the parents should answer simply and correctly if ever the question "How did the baby get inside mommy's tummy?" pops up.

That class made me wonder. With the easily-available porn of various degrees in our daily life and with news like this one no longer surprising, perhaps it is time to revamp sex ed curriculum among our Malaysian community.

That, or the doctor who taught us lives a happily oblivious or the idealest life. Hehe.

Why hello there, drug abuser

Monday night and it itched too much and I had petechiae all over my body, some bruises even. I couldn't sleep. So I read over the symptoms and signs of antihistamines overdose and decided I'd risk the somnolence and tachycardia.

"Tachycardia is just tachycardia, right?" I'm tachycardic every time I reach the fifth floor.

"Arrhythmia," my housemate said.

"Oh," it took me seconds to contemplate cardiac arrest and then "CPR me if I don't respond."

I popped another dose of antihistamines.

The next morning, I woke up at 11am and groggily dragged myself to class.

Wednesday, I got up for my 7am but remained sleepy all day, even after food and healthy dose of coffee. Nearly skipped the hospital that night in favour of sleeping on the floor but I went anyway as grumpy as a bear kicked out of her hibernating cave.

On Thursday, Kak Milah forced me to go to my 9am class. It hurt no one but myself but I still rebelled and purposely grumped myself 15 minutes late. And skipped the extra class that afternoon because I needed sleep before I started to go homicidal.

Kak Milah woke me up (for the tenth time) near Isya'. She touched my forehead. "Are you feverish?"

"Somnolence," I croaked.

First love is a fever, it pains us and makes us an adult

Walked to the hospital with Syak and her husband Anas. Balqis cried when Syak left her at Umair's and as we walked, the doting mother worried that she was cruel to leave her baby to go to hospital at night.

"Najwa (another mother in our batch) didn't go to tuition and she stayed at home with her son, but here I am.." She held my arm and asked, "Am I cruel?"

"Hmm." She shouldn't be comparing herself to anyone because I know she's already trying hard to be a great mom. We all have our battles, we just didn't know what other's are. "No you're not."

"You took a while to answer. You probably think I am."

She sounded dejected. I shouldn't think when consoling was top priority. "Is going to the hospital an option or a necessity for you?"

"Necessary, I didn't really get to fully examine the patient in class.."

"It's a necessity, so you're not cruel, Syak. Don't worry." Life will always demand sacrifices from us, so we make our choices wisely.

Anas turned around and grinned at me. "All women are hysterical."

"Then what am I?" Why do I have to keep asking people that? This is a worrying trend.

"You're a guy." Syak replied.

I wanted to shot that she was holding on to me, a guy's arm in the presence of her husband, but no, we don't joke when it comes to Hana and her gender issue.

"I think I have gender confusion." Another quarter-life crisis.

---

There's another classmate who probably thinks I'm a guy by his enthusiastic discussion of Andrology with me. I am uncomfortable and could easily admit so to him, but that's too much work for a lazy ass like me. I'd rather just ignore or answer per se without much elaboration. He's smart, so he should get the hint.

Or maybe he's not.

Slapped

Dr. HK in his 7am class today kept making references to past classes and since I had irregular attendance since two weeks ago from generalized myalgia (lulz) and that break of habit thus diverted me off my hardworking course, I merely nodded in acknowledgement.

He stopped teaching.

"You're not following me... You have to come to class everyday. Everyday. Otherwise you will only get a glimpse of what I'm saying and not the whole picture. Come to class. Every. Day."

I am not that conceited as to think he noticed my absence (though I do have my preferred seat at the first row bench on the right side of the hall) and I believe this whole telling-off was directed at the class in general, but he did looked at me a few times while doing so and all I could do was offer an apologetic smile.

"I can come everyday, any day. Even on Saturday. But you have to come to class everyday and study a little bit before."

Another apologetic smile.

"You don't believe me." He gave up and resumed teaching.

*_*

Some people are born to make others happy

while some others observe.

It had been a long day for some of us at the faculty today. Starting with the dean's surgery class at 7 (which I skipped because I needed to sort out some financial issues, I miss Dr. Hussein huhu) and our last class for the day, a double dose of surgery general lecture, ended at a sweet 4.30pm. Dusk in half an hour.

The day didn't end there. We had a meeting with the dean and our coordinator afterwards. I felt sorry for them to have to meet us at the end of the day and hear us commenting this and that, but they were steadfast and unrelenting in honouring their duties.

Except that the dean looked a little bit tense. It wasn't that he was expressive by default and he did look like he normally looked, but there was an aura of exhaustion coming out from him. And he wasn't smiling, there was no spark in his eyes. Ara told me earlier that he appeared to be in a sour mood during his class that morning. This meeting probably wouldn't help uplift his mood.

"I thank Dr. Hala for insisting with this meeting, although at first I was a bit reluctant," at this point we all laughed. "But thank you all for attending today."

At the end of discussion, Khadijah stood up and thanked the doctors profusely for setting the time to meet us. "Thank you for always helping us, for listening, for hearing our voices.."

I was staring at the dean and there was a change in his expression. Just subtle.

"... although not everyone of us is attending, but deep from our heart, we really really love you."

And there was a smile on his face, just a slight upward lift of his right lips that showed a hint of his teeth. There was a little more spark in his eyes.

He looked contented. That made me smile, too.

He is a great man, a humble dean, an inspiring teacher, and he did so much for us Faculty of Medicine students. He taught us to always be inspired and to be the best that we can, and much more.

Maybe we never told him how great we think of him and how much he was doing a great job. It probably never occurred to us that the dean may need some encouragement and praise, too.

We thought he knew how great he is.

Dr. Hussein took the mike and said, "You made our day and night" with such sincerity, my smile widened.

Uplifted.

---

"Is there anything you would like to add, doctor?" Our MC the batch boss asked at the end of the meeting.

"No," but the dean was already reaching for the mike. "I wish you success ba'a and a nice stay in Egypt."

What Weekend?

We sixth year Malaysians started our academic session one month later than the Egyptians and to catch up, compensations must be made in the form of sacrificing our two-weeks winter break. It was understandably non-negotiable, but some of us still wanted to try.

Dr. Hala: We can give you two days.
Dr. Hussein: Yeah, a long weekend.

Hahaha.

Universally, weekend means two days off but apparently in the medical profession, you're more than lucky to even have one.  

Lariii

Malam tu, Umair gila. Dia nak merayap mencari ketenangan. Orang ajak pergi hospital dia taknak maka terpaksa layan dia merayap sekitar sungai. Bapis teman.

Entah kenapa kitorang decide nak ikut jalan yang tak pernah lalu selama ni. Bapis layan je. "Kalau sesat, kita boleh patah balik."

Kitorang jalan satu deret; saya tengah, Umair kiri saya dan Bapis kanan saya. Jalan gelap, takde orang. Masuk lorong lain nampak dua orang Arab.

Umair timbulkan persoalan ape nak buat kalau Arab serang. Saya dengan semangatnya "Takpe aku bawak pisau!" sambil genggam Swiss knife dalam poket sweater. Kalau mama baca, mesti dia tension anak buas sorang ni.

Bapis kata "Kalau Arab kacau, lari la. Sape paling pendek mesti dia paling last."

Dan mereka berdua pun gelakkan saya, sebab antara kitorang bertiga, Bapis paling tinggi pastu Umair. Argh.

As innocent as a white bear

I brought Kevin with me to Umair's because I have grown sissy nowadays and wouldn't want to sleep without him. Played with Huda the niece, studied a bit and went to roll on Umair's warm bed.

Throwback last 7th November, we had a sleepover watching thriller in which everyone screamed exasperated at the characters' stupidity.

Kevin was in the air being jostled by me. I told Umair I always wanted to rename him but I kept calling him Kevin again.  "Like, Jonghyun."

Iema liked that name."Bears should be named Korean. Try KwangSoo."

"No way, KwangSoo is stupid. Kevin is not."

"Norman," Umair supplied one of her cheesy Malay names.

"Pfft."

"Zahri. Kevin Zahri."

"That's weird."

Umair then offered a classmate's name and I laughed. "How would I sound if I say I'm sleeping with (insert random classmate's name)?"

"Gila!" And Umair hit me. I rolled around laughing.

Umair then likened Kevin to Huda, a baby. I told her Kevin is two years younger than me (because arwah Grandpa Jamil gave me him when I was two) and that makes him 21. Definitely not a baby.

I get lonely when he does his 45-minute breath-holding practice.

"I'm sorry. Did you mind me bringing a 21-year-old guy over?"

"Gila!" She hit me again.

Stupidity session over, we then discussed worldviews. As usual, she was always the better informed between the two of us, but I like to think I am not so bad myself.

But then as I presented my opinion, she exclaimed that I was "innocent! So innocent!" and that really caught me. She called me innocent again for a second time and I was officially not enjoying myself anymore. I rather be called crazy than a prude.

I think my innocence was sacrificed the day I had to examine a patient's scrotum. But yeah, innocence is culturally defined.

Simplex

For mature readers only. Yaya! Pergi baca buku sekarang!

At the end of the class, the doctor gave us a question. When can herpes virus type 1 causes genital infection and herpes virus type 2 causes oral infection?

The answer was simple enough. I nodded in understanding and class was dismissed.

Outside, a friend rushed past me. "All this time I thought oral *** means kissing! Wth."

I chuckled nervously. I wasn't sure whether she was so innocent or I am a know-it-all or a downright pervert.

Another friend nodded in agreement to her. She turned to me, "But it is abnormal, right? Surely it can't be normal."

It had to be a trick question, right? This one had to be answered delicately. I realized I had early exposure to a different culture yet living in a different one entirely. Talk about socially displaced.

"I think the word normal itself depends on what culture you are in."

She accepted my answer. "Medically, religiously, it has to have some sort of drawbacks, right?"

It would be interesting to Google this one up. The resident showed up to take our attendance and I was saved from answering her.

This is going to be an interesting week.

Engineer on a Saturday

7.00 am

Checked on our problematic cooking gas tank left on the balcony, it was still buzzing from gas leaking out. A friend advised to get it exchanged, but it had to stop leaking gas first. With the gas outflow now away from the clothe peg, I hung my laundry and enjoyed the morning breeze.

Got dressed and sipped a cup of instant cappuccino that had every fiber of me missing Costa's fresh brew. I hate instants. Rechecked today's schedule and had second thoughts of skipping Dr. Mohamed Saeed's (extra) ECG class to go to Tahrir to apply my yearly visa. He was going to teach hypertrophy and hypertensive changes in ECG.

"Visa," my housemates supplied helpfully. "You have (obligatory) classes everyday anyway. Might as well skip today's."

And Tahrir it was.

8.40 am

Microbus dropped me near the haunting building of Mugamma' Tahrir. Customary glance at the unnecessary tanks guarding the entrance and proceeded into the building. Last time I stepped foot in this square, the urine stench was much worse. Not sure if this was a good thing or not.

9.15 am

Classmate in front of me was applying visa for his 9-ish month old baby and her passport photo was too cute I was going to melt in a puddle of goo.

I couldn't resist. "Do you have an extra copy of Huda's passport photo? Can I have one?"

9.45 am

Visa applied. Time to go to class... Or not.

Sixth year is a test of priorities and choices, or ninjutsus. We have three (extra) classes at the same time on Saturday;
Dr. Kenawy's clinical surgery
Dr. Heba's clinical Cardiology
Dr. Galal's surgical radiology.

All scheduled for 9.00 am and unless you're fluent in Kage Bunshin no Jutsu, choosing is mandatory. But there's always the last choice of 'none of the above' and at this hour, I was going to be a late nuisance anyway if I grace any one of those classes.

Decided to walk back to Mounira and enjoy whatever there was to enjoy along the Nile.

10.00 am 

Reached Mounira. Stopped by a hardware stall to buy PVC tape to fix our leaking sinks in the kitchen and bathroom. Stopped at another hardware store to buy anticlog treatment for our atherosclerotic kitchen sink drain. Stopped at the grocer. We were out of cooking oil.

Home. Checked on the gas tank on the balcony, still leaking. My room unfortunately reeked of gas it was nauseating. Observed as Kak Milah fixed the leak under the kitchen sink and I administered the anticlog measures for the pipe. Went into the bathroom and fixed the sink there.

We called it us playing engineers, haha.

11.45 am

Off to last class for Dermatology. Noticed some absentees and I understood their distaste of coming to class on a universal weekend to observe some patient's blackheads or fungal infection between the toes.

rationality is irrelevant

post ni tak macho langsung.

kalau nak kata sebab saya baik, saya tak baik. tapi saya tak rasa saya jahat walaupun kadang-kadang saya suka kenakan orang. lebih kepada tak kisah. lagipun, kita semua dah bertahun bersama. jadi saya tak kisah, tak pernah kisah. kita kan kawan.

tapi saya takkan kata sebab kalian meskipun saya sayangkan kalian. golongan xx ni mereka kadang-kala hormon tak stabil dan bila terguris hati ditambah pula dengan sakit bahu nak flex lengan pun sengal, mereka boleh je nak nangis senyap-senyap dalam kelas sementara tunggu cikgu masuk. lebih menyedihkan, tisu pun takde.

ah. tak stabil betul.

kalau nak kata sebab duit, duit tak pernah menjadi motivasi saya. the very thought of doing things for money is insulting. lagipun saya baru je kira duit tadi dan ianya tak cukup, duit saya tak cukup, duit benda ni pun tak cukup. haha. pelik betul. tak seronok betul bila ada deficit macam ni, padahal catit penuh skema dah kot.

there is no absolute in medicine. nampaknya hidup saya juga dah jadi medicine, lulz.

kalau nak kata sebab kepuasan peribadi, takde apa yang saya dapat dari semua ni. sakit badan ada la. sakit gile, serius. saya tak kuat, tak cukup katang. mungkin seronok kalau jadi lelaki, mereka katang.

hal ini juga menguatkan keinginan saya untuk kahwin dengan orang yang pandai mengurut. tapi kalau saya dah berkahwin, mungkin kita takkan berhadapan dengan perkara ini in the first place. hahah.

kesimpulan yang saya dapat adalah, hidup mesti kerana Tuhan. buat apa-apa pun sebab Dia. ikhlas itu adalah perkara yang serius kena usahakan dengan serius. ikhlas dari langkah pertama, tawakkal dari langkah pertama. hidup demi Tuhan dengan sebenar-benarnya. kalau tak, hidup takkan gembira. dan kalau nak gembira, kena ingat bahawa sesetengah benda perlu diterima at face value, tak perlu fikir dalam-dalam sangat, argue balik atau menangis. ignorance is bliss, dan ya, hidup ini perlukan a certain level of ignorance.

macam mana nak tahu bila perlu take at face value, bila nak argue? well, sebab itu la kita perlu menjadi lebih matang dan wise. itu la yang kehidupan sedang ajar disebalik segala kesakitan badan ni.

significant others

i'm not good at maintaining relationship. i'm not good at keeping in contact. let's not talk about faith-family, friends or acquaintances, i'm barely keeping the blood-family updated via whatsapp. i don't like to use the phone for calling.

but i like people. their significance to me will always make them significant, even if i don't really show it. it's just it. a sister will always be a sister, a brother will always be a brother, a close friend nearly-cousin-like will always be close friend nearly-cousin-like, and i'll always think of them fondly whenever i think of them. and yeah, i'm more of a family person than i am a friendly person.

maybe i have to change. this attitude makes me lose contact and all, and despite always praying for them, not telling people what you have in mind isn't going to score you points with them. you fall out from their good side and you'll fall apart.

today was the first time in a long time i saw someone online. i got to know him because of a mutual significant person, and out of favour for that person i met up with him once. and that was it. i don't even remember how he looks like, but i'll always remember his name and what he signifies.

it feels nice to walk down that road again. 

"You have to be proud even if you are stupid."

There was this one or two questions that I gleefully answered and didn't bother to recheck it even though I finished early. Because I was confident.

Lulz.

Post exam, it bothered me that I was too quick with those questions. Turned out my answers were wrong. Served me right.

I most probably would have gotten it right if I used my brain instead of my instinct. It wasn't that I didn't know, it's just I was too full of myself to take a moment to think.

But I blame my eyes' need for a couple-more-minute shut. They get congested rather frequently lately, it was uncomfortable. (Okay that sounded lame).

---

During our Paediatric posting last year, Dr. Ahmed ElBeleidy when teaching us radiology mentioned the importance of using the brain to think instead of jumping at that moment with your instinct. Otherwise, you can easily mistake a pleural effusion for a collapse.

"Causes of failure in exam; ignorance and stupidity."

---

Instinct is something developed after years of experience. At this point, all my instincts might as well be a bag of bull, haha. 

Minah Buang Anak

Tong sampah luar kami di sebelah tepi pintu masuk. Warna dia pink. Dia besar. Letak sampah situ, nanti ada pakcik budiman tolong buangkan. Upah dia 5 genih sebulan (lebih kurang RM3) dan saya rasa ianya sangat amat sedikit dibandingkan dengan risiko yang datang dengan kerjaya ini. Terima kasih pakcik.

Zohor hari Sabtu saya nak buang sampah lepas balik kelas. Ada dua plastik hitam besar nak buang. Sebab tong sampah tu kosong dan besar serta dalam, maka saya menahan nafas seterusnya menjenguk ke dalam.

Terkejut nampak anak kucing tengah duduk rapat-rapat. Kes buang anak!

Anak kucing tidur rapat-rapat.

Ada empat ekor. Nampak kecik, gaya macam tak putus susu lagi. Tak perasan pulak sesape mengandung atau beranak baru-baru ni. Mona ke? Minah ke? Warna macam Minah tapi rasanya anak Minah yang lahir haritu dah besar boleh lari-lari dah.

Saya nak buang sampah, maka anak kucing ni kena duduk lain. Nak menyeluk tangan ke dalam tong sampah adalah sesuatu yang saya tak sanggup, walaupun tong itu kosong. Maka saya tonggekkan tong sampah dan anak-anak kucing menggelongsor turun ke atas tudung tong sampah yang saya dah letak dekat bawah.

Yang terakhir untuk keluar degil sikit, sikit lagi nak keluar tapi dia tahan gelinciran dengan kuku. Sambil membebel, saya tendang sikit tong sampah akhirnya semua anak kucing selamat keluar.

Ada baki sampah sarap tulang temulang dalam tong sampah tu. Habis semua tu jatuh atas anak kucing. Haha. Nasib la korang.

Saya berdiri dan perhati. Mereka comel. Saya nak main dengan diorang.

Tapi diorang busuk. Manade orang nak main dengan budak busuk. Kalau mandikan, nanti mak dia tak cam bau dan tak mengaku anak. Kesian la anak belum kenal erti kehidupan akhirnya mati kerana tidak cukup kasih sayang.

Saya pun buang sampah dan masuk rumah.

---

Asar saya keluar untuk buang sampah lagi (haha minah ni banyak betul sampah) dan nampak anak-anak kucing duduk rapat-rapat atas tudung tong sampah tu.

Duduk rapat-rapat...

Mak dia bubuh diorang empat ekor dalam tong sampah...

Damn. Sekarang musim sejuk. Diorang sejuk!

Adeh lembab betul! Hypothermia bahaya la untuk baby argh argh. Tak boleh bawa masuk rumah takut mak dia cari tak jumpa. Lagipun busuk. Hypothermia or not, saya tak nak sentuh budak busuk please. Maka saya lari masuk rumah dan minta kotak dari ahli beit.

Takde kotak kosong. Kobek stor rumah. Takde gak. Adeh. Kesian la baby. Kak Teha tawarkan kotak biskut untuk selamatkan anak-anak kucing dari hypothermia. Kecik, tapi better than nothing. Budak hypothermic tak boleh merungut.

Alaskan kotak dengan skirt lama Kak Milah yang dah jadi kain buruk. Macam muat-muat nak letak anak kucing empat ekor tapi kalau mak dia datang, memang takde ruang langsung la.

Saya keluar dan letak kotak biskut tepi tong sampah kami. Angkat sekor demi sekor anak kucing masuk kotak tu, atas satu sama lain. Mereka gemok, berat juga untuk saiz. Pandai mak dia jaga anak. Matlamat hidup baby memang untuk menjadi gemuk je.

Kelihatan sempit. Kain alas kena letak juga sebagai penebat haba, tak boleh alih.

Saya masuk semula rumah dan ambil kotak kasut. Rupanya ada yang kosong, alhamdulillah. Berguna betul suka beli kasut haha.

Keluar semula nak salin kotak anak-anak kucing. Minah ada!

"La anak kamu ke Minah. Pandai jaga anak. Ni gravida ke berapa?"

Minah menyeringai! Dia tak pernah menyeringai dekat saya selama ni! Nampaknya Minah tak suka saya cakap medic dengan dia.

Atau mungkin dia tak suka saya datang dekat dengan anak dia. Minah dekat atas tudung tong sampah dengan tiga anak dia. Sekor masih lagi dalam kotak.

Saya tak nak kena cakar. Minah kucing jalanan yang tinggal di bangunan kami ni. Mesti kuku dia hebat penuh bakteria. Kalau dia cakar, saya kena pergi hospital ambil anti-rabies shot. Sakit dow kena cucuk.

Minah dah baring menyusu anak-anak tiga ekor tu. Yang sekor lagi ni kesian camne boleh tertinggal, adakah development milestone kucing berbeza meskipun adik-beradik gravida yang sama?

Minah tengok saya. Saya tengok dia.

Tangan mencapai leher anak dia. Minah masih tengok saya.

Anak kucing letak atas lantai (yang sejuk, sorry baby). Minah masih tengok saya.

Saya letak kain alas dalam kotak kasut. Kotak biskut letak tepi. Kotak kasut letak dekat posisi asal kotak biskut.

Saya tengok Minah. Dia tengok saya.

Tangan mencapai leher anak kucing, letak dia atas kain alas kotak kasut. Minah tengok saya.

Saya berundur. Bye.

Minah dan anak-anak. 

---

Maghrib saya keluar nak tengok ape jadi dengan mereka.

Minah terbaring dalam kotak kasut. Anak-anak dia duduk dengan dia. Mereka nampak selesa.

Hehe.

P/s: Nama dia Minah sebab dia suka duduk tengah-tengah tangga halang laluan. Saya yang selalu terpaksa berlari ke kelas akan membebel "Minah ni duduk la tepi skit."

Good Ol' Days

Earlier this year I had a mental breakdown and Umair asked for the general population's help because I needed chocolate and salted chips stat. B*pis came to the rescue in the form of a big bag of Chipsy, four Kinder Buenos and four Lindt.

Few days after that, I went into my cheeky sengal-mohon-dilempang mode in classic bipolar fashion. I went on YM to pester S*pwan.

Hana: s*fwan haritu abg *pis bagi saya coklat :D
Hana: bile pulak saudara nak bagi saya coklat!
Pe*enang: Saper ni?

I laughed my head off when he answered. Annoying S*pwan has always been considered as a personal achievement, so I proceeded to brag this endeavour to Ja*k. To which Ja*k replied;

Ja*k: argh mamat ni
Ja*k: org ym die x pena2 reply
Haru: HAHAHHAHA
Ja*k: pstu ckp xbukak pn

Ah. Good old times. I wish them ease in their study and they graduate this February. I am getting them flowers.

Tough Love

During the break, we had a discussion about justice and human rights that stemmed from the quote,

"Fiqh menjauhkan manusia daripada manusia dan manusia daripada tuhan."

It was a rather heavy discussion to be written back, and I am exhausted from cooking dinner and washing the carpet after a 7 am - 4 pm class today. So I'll just jot down the principles I used during the discussion.

I believe human are social creatures with the need to band together when presented with a common ground. Similar taste in music, race, fellow countrymen, practicing the same faith, classmates, whatever it may be. From here will come preference and to a degree, favouritism.

In life, we have give and take. Islam teaches us that each relations will come with it rights and obligations. Family have rights obligated from us and we from them; our neighbours, our friends, our fellow Muslims, our fellow human, etc. Each with a different level of obligations and therefore preference and favouritism.

To conclude, "If I treat everyone the same, who will I treat special?"

So when we talk about injustice, whose law are we judging injustice by? In this world of diversity, you cannot make a judgement without considering circumstances involved, namely the culture and religions. This needs a degree of understanding or perhaps benefit of the doubt and tolerance.

And then we have the perspective we use to deal with a subject. Adjectives are really just two faces of a coin. When I was a fresh first-year in Egypt, I considered the Egyptians brash and uncivilised. Nowadays I can see them as out-going and brave, and the change in perspective made me calmer and able to live within the community and this prevented me from stabbing their kidneys every time they cut queues auscultating the patient. 

But then again, this is just my stand. You can keep bashing everything that doesn't comply with your worldview, but no opinion and no one is definite.

---

Because of this, I didn't feel anything when something happened in our class today.

We had an afternoon lecture for two hours straight. The subject was equivalent to teaching Electrical Engineering to us medical students. It was, simply put, beyond demanding. But thankfully, the lecture was in English.

Our doctor gave a 20-minute break before he starts the next hour-and-half lecture. We groaned but we stayed, using the break to discuss the earlier lecture.

Break over and the doctor continued his lecture... in ARABIC. I tried my best to follow the lecture despite my inner self kicking a tantrum. It was a hard subject even in English! It was one thing to just grasp the subject and another entirely to decode the Arab into English while grasping the fast-paced lecture. The fact that it was 3pm and we had class since 7am definitely added to the mental exhaustion.

But I stayed mum because if there is one thing I noticed about our lectures, it is that they are human and they get tired. When they get tired, they use Arabic more than English. The seniors before us endured classes in Arabic and see them now all shiny and lovely living the life as respected doctors.

So I didn't complain and doubled what was left of my focus.

After class, my friend told me why the doctor used Arabic throughout the second lecture.

During the break, one of our diligent Egyptian colleague approached the bench because he didn't understand something from last week's lecture, a topic that was fully grasped by us Malaysians.

The doctor asked him didn't he understand last week, and our colleague admitted he didn't really understand because doctor used English.

My friend continued with a sad expression that our doctor preferred the Egyptian students more, despite his very garang reprimanding them every single time each of them arrived later than the start of the lecture.

"He scolds them because he loves them. And he taught in Arabic because he loves them."

Oh, okay. That explained stuffs. It was at our expense, but it was for the benefit of others and I could see how he came to decide to do that.

I left the lecture hall feeling lighter than the resigned feeling endured throughout the lecture. It felt good to unravel the mysteries of life.

"Selamat datang ke malam yang panjang."

Everything of mine has to have its own rightful place.

You can contribute this to my neat personality or obsessive rationality, or to the fact that I tend to forget trivial things and my sanity depends on the sense of security of knowing that I can always find my keys in the second pocket or the flashlight in the fourth right drawer under the table.

So when I get home, I will arrange my shoes neatly either on the floor by the shoe rack or on the shelf if there is space. At home we don't stack shoes up on top one another, but at Umair's we do.

Afterwards I will walk to my room, putting the keys back in my bag pocket and proceed to deposit my bag on the floor by my bed.

And then I will do about my business. Change my clothes and snuggle Kevin or whatever.

But everything changes in the winter.

Upon unlocking the door, the door will be kicked close and shoes will be haphazardly strewn across the foyer. Keys will be thrown on the carpet and the bag will be dropped unmercifully where it landed.

There will then be a race against voluntary control of bladder to the washroom.

Shipping Industry Worker With A Penchant For Trees And Perfecting Deformity

Flight from Abu Dhabi to Cairo saw me sitting next to a grieving Turkish-Pakistani on her impromptu flight to be with her friend whose mother just passed away a few hours before. We chatted most of the journey because she needed to.

At one point she asked me to describe myself. I paused and told her "I'm arrogant. I tend to take people and things for granted." 

Surely I got berated for that. Reminded me of Mizuiro Kojima in Bleach whose first self-introduction was self-degradation, but he scored point with Ichigo because of his honesty.

We then got to know each other, exchanged life stories, future plans, love mishaps (lulz), laughter, Panadol. I gave her my only packet of caramelized banana chips as a token of my gratitude for everything.

Most importantly, we promised to keep in touch.

We parted at the arrival terminal gate with a hug. She reminded me to keep in touch (since we're both Leos, she probably sensed my ability to remember people in silence and conveniently forget to contact them) and I prayed she remains strong for Nagm, a happy ending with Hazem and everything goes well and smooth. 

"Better to be single than married to an ass."

"Everything has an age."

"Travel, love and worship."

"I feel like a granny; telling you all these and you smiling and nodding. Do it now or you'll regret it. I tell you, I am the future you."

All right, Nil. I get allergy with human, so I'll go love a tree now. Keh3.

I am generally reckless because I have a strong family behind me, they're proud of me even if I decide to drop medicine.

Papa senyum kepada makcik counter. "Datang hantar anak."

Saya senyum dan hulur kad temujanji. Makcik senyum balik. "Duduk dulu nanti doktor panggil masuk."

"Baik lah."

"Adik umur berapa?" Makcik bertanya.

"20 tahun," papa jawab.

"23 tahun," saya betulkan.

Papa gelak. Kami duduk.

"Kalau Hana kata Hana form five, dia percaya tak?"

"Haha."

---

Haritu open house rumah, papa jemput Dr. Rusdi makan kek karot yang Melle buat.

"Anak yang ke berapa tu?" Dr. Rusdi tanya.

"Anak kelima," papa jawab penuh konfiden.

"Melle enam la pa," saya betulkan. Papa dan hadirin semuanya gelak.

"Hana pula anak ke berapa?" Dr. Rusdi kenakan papa.

20-4-10

Papa ajar camne nak plan pinjaman untuk beli kereta.

"Rule twenty-four-ten. Deposit 20%, loan untuk max 4 tahun, potong dari gaji bulanan 10%.

Kalau amik loan lama-lama, memang la bulanan nampak sikit. Tapi jumlah accumulate dia lagi banyak."

Saya tak kesah pakai kereta apa. Tapi kalau ada kereta, might as well get one yang acceleration dia pantas dan minyak dia reasonable for milage. Dan service center dia easily accessible from where I am.

Ikutkan hati, I want a black Chevy Impala, haha. But my favourite car so far is Toyota Harrier. Nampak sangat perkasa :>

To Kill A Mocking Man

The last time I made myself vulnerable and really asked for help, I got turned down by circumstances. I ended up crying and cursing that guy all night while I struggled before I told him off screen to eff off and went for Qiamullail and repentance.

I promised not to ever get down on my knees and beg to a guy again. Ever.

Yesterday I did it again. I begged for help. And got turned down by circumstances.

I was going to be mature and say "Okay" and take my case to someone else, accepting the fact that he had issues as well. But then I realized he declined me even after I admitted I asked for help because I was scared multiple times and that I would gladly do everything else if he could just help me with that one thing...

But no. I got turned down by circumstances. And I became pissed off, so pissed that 50 ways to kill him flashed through my mind.

My favourite was cutting all his joints while he screams in torturous agony before I scatter all his appendages in the river. Then I can have a glass of teh beng.

Too Korean

Handsome Kid On The Block

He was a black dan kid so that made him one of Madam's lackeys. He arrived midway through warming up and went directly to his fellow black dan lackey conducting warm up at the front to properly bow his respect. Properly. With the right amount of stiff. Respectful.

That was a good impression on me. He ran towards the back and righted a junior's stance. Responsible.

This kid was after my own heart.

They were then practicing the basic punches and kicks. One of the white belt hubaes had a wardrobe misfunction and so said lackey stopped warming up and pulled the junior out of formation. Like a good hyung, he proceeded to tie the uniform and belt for him, hubae standing still as hyung wrapped his arms around his waist to tie the belt on neatly. A green belt hubae also had a malfunction and hyung was readily the stylist of the day.

Warming up over. He leaned on the wall, arms crossed while eying red belt juniors practiced hitting the plank from the corner of his eyes with a solemn expression.

He was probably a sixth grade student max, about 1.2 meter tall but already he was living an example of a raised-well son. This, people, is why I am a pedophile.

Shit. He's tying another hubae's belt again. And he caught me staring at him. Argh.

Monkey And The Don

Maru was practicing his pattern. To our family honour's horror, he wasn't being serious! He punched like a sissy and kicked like a wuss. After he was done, he ran and slid back to his friends like a retired bowling ball before looking around for me.

Hunching on my plastic seat and exuding boss-mafia aura despite only two hours of sleep last night, I looked him in the eye and signaled him to come over.

I told him to punch and kick like I refused to tell him where I hid Big Bro's birthday gift for him. He cringed. I told him to punch and kick harder or I wouldn't tell him where his birthday presents are.

I believe I made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

The Dance

My taekwon do instructor used to threaten us whenever we make a mistake during practice. Flirt with that big tree until it says I love you back, or so was his words. He was then a young adult.

I never knew how to flirt with a tree until it says I love you to me or how to flirt, period. However, it did occur to me the creepiness of being loved by a tree, so I usually resort to running laps whenever I did a punishable mistake.

But today, looking at the stump where the big tree used to be, I suppose if someone lean onto its tough mighty trunk and do a sexy wave, that probably will get the tree to swoon and drool I-love-yous all over them.

Pengganas

Harini saya tersilap anggar kerapatan tembok rendah di simpang dengan kereta disebabkan kegelapan malam. Sifat menekan minyak dengan riang keluar simpang telah menyebabkan kereta terseret tembok tersebut di bahagian belakang sebelah kiri sambil mengeluarkan bunyi yang kuat serta menakutkan.

Saya terbayang kecalaran yang dahsyat. Maka saya suruh adik 9 tahun di sebelah untuk berdoa semoga kereta sihat-sihat sahaja dan meneruskan perjalanan pulang ke rumah.

Kira-kira satu kilometer kemudian, kereta mengeluarkan bunyi flapping (maaf, saya fail BM) semasa meluncur di jalanan. Kereta dipandu dirasakan kurang kestabilannya berbanding biasa. Saya segera berhenti di tepi jalan sambil berdoa tayar elok-elok sahaja.

Pesan adik duduk diam-diam dalam kereta dan kunci kereta dari dalam. Saya keluar bersama henset yang berlampu suluh dan memeriksa bahagian kiri belakang kereta. Kelihatan sebuah tayar yang pancit dengan luka berbentuk L bersaiz kira-kira 10 x 10 cm.

Saya terpecahkan tayar kereta. Nice...

Orang perempuan mudah terdedah kepada bahaya jika duduk tepi jalan dalam kegelapan malam, maka eloklah kita masuk ke dalam kereta di mana kusyennya empuk dan nyaman udara air-condnya, diiringi muzik yang takde la sedap mana tetapi sekurang-kurangnya ada adik nakal yang suka tanya soalan tanpa henti. Seterusnya buat panggilan kepada penyelamat.

"Salam papa. Ni Hana." Nada tenang dan bersandar dengan selesa di kusyen empuk.

"Ye Kak Ngah."

"Hana terpecahkan tayar dekat tusyen James tadi. Tayar dah pancit. Hana parking depan bangunan SPR. Sempat ke nak balik rumah tayar camni?" Nada anak muda tinggal di Mesir lima tahun yang bukan sahaja bersifat suka menyelit ketika membawa kereta malah kini sudah naik taraf kepada tahap pelesit pemecah tayar ini masih lagi tenang.

Sebagai doktor konsultan kanak-kanak, beliau telah sentiasa berhadapan dengan SITREP oleh MO/HO di hospital mengenai pesakit yang sedang kritikal dan bertarung nyawa dengan gaya yang cool, calm and collected. SITREP anaknya kali ini pula bernada tenang dan tiada kecedaraan manusia dilaporkan dan tayar pecah bukanlah spleen pecah, maka pastilah tenang-tenang aja.

"Tak, nanti rosak tayar kalau drive. Kena tukar tayar dulu."

"Okay. Papa datang ambil kitorang boleh?"

Mama tolong papa baiki tayar sementara anak bertuah ni pegang lampu suluh.

*SITREP stands for SITuation REPort. Saya belajar dari Army Wives. 

Clairvoyant

"Recipients of a single organ donor exhibit the same bizarre, manic behaviour before lapsing into comas."

The first thing on my mind was RABIES because it was an infective neurological case from organ transplantation. I waited in high-spirit for a full 25 minute the series discussed the case, questioning why the doctors didn't think to investigate for rabies and to trace back what really happened with the donor.

And when they finally reveal the diagnosis, I was waiting with fist ready to pump.

Fist pump. God, was I smug.

And then... Nothing. I now knew the cause and that I was right. I knew once symptoms of rabies flare, there's little to nothing else you can do. But even if there was something to do, I was dampened. I didn't really wanted to know. I got my fist pump, I don't care for anything else. Aah, life's good.

It was then a revelation to me. That I am excited of cause and deduction, and not at all by actions of what's next. That explains my situation nowadays. Knowing but not doing anything about it. Clearly stated in Surah Al-Baqarah verse I-forgot-but-it's-around-two-third-of-the-surah about insolent servants like me. Huh.

The next day, it occurred to me that that case was probably the first case of rabies by organ transplantation in the world, that's why the CDC was hell late. And that my knowledge of it was inherited at their expense.

That fist pump was uncalled for. I wasn't great.

Maturity Yardstick

The problem with introducing my friends to my youngest brother of nine years old is that he will start comparing us. Each time we leave a friend's wedding, he will pop the question in the car ride home.

"Why aren't you married?"

Usually I laugh him off and tell him the things I'd rather do with the money people spend on weddings, like buy a house or travel somewhere exciting. Today I decided to humour him.

"I don't know. Who should I marry anyway?"

"I don't know, anybody."

"Does anybody has a name?"

"How should I know!" At this point he was squirming in his seat, whining from my unsatisfactory answers.

"Ask me again when anybody has a name."

And then I told him the things I'd rather do with the money people spend on weddings.

Olive Juice

"Ma rumah ada zaitun tak?"

"Takde. Kenapa?"

"Nak pizza bubuh zaitun."

"Nak pizza ke?" Mama semangat bukak peti ais bawa keluar pepperoni. "D'Casa kat depan bukak lagi. Kedai tu ada semua bahan nak buat pizza. Pergi beli base, cheese. Benda lain semua dah ada."

"Kedai tu ada jual zaitun ke."

"Takde." Mama masih punggah peti ais.

"Kalau macam tu, takde makna. Hana nak pizza bubuh zaitun. Kalau pizza je, takde makna."

Mama jumpa buah zaitun papa dekat belakang. "Ada tiga biji zaitun je. Papa dah makan yang lain."

"Takpe la."

Mama tutup peti ais.

"Dekat Mesir, semua pizza ada zaitun." Nada sedikit sayu. Dalam kereta tadi dah tanya James Pizza Hut bubuh zaitun ke tak. Dia dan Harith anak Pak Cik Zul kata takde.

"Negara dia, memang la."

Kehadapan Nota Internal Medicine Yang Dirindui

I MISS YOU

SO MUCH

NOTHING CAN COMPARE TO THE CAKARAN AYAM THAT IS THE KNOW-HOW OF CLINICAL EXAMINATIONS

SEMOGA SELAMAT BERADA DI ATAS MEJA YANG DITUTUPI KAIN LANGSIR

NAK BALIK MESIR AMIK BUKU

-___-

High

Going 100km/h in the city at night and it had just stopped raining.

The adrenaline.

Camaraderie

Dad's cousin from Seremban came for a visit just now. I barely remember Pak Itam but I know I've seen him some time long ago at Nenek's house in Melaka. Went to greet them and when I said I study in Egypt, he pointed out his daughter and son study engineering in France and that his daughter visited Egypt earlier this year.

A France student and visited Egypt in February? Could it be.. "Did you stay at Raihaana's place when you came to Egypt?" I asked.

She lighted up in acknowledgement and affirmed. I grinned. "Sorry couldn't meet you guys when you were there." I was busy with STEP at that time, I think.

Mom thought it was a wonder our second cousin knew Rai as well.

"Of course. We're in the same usrah system, mom." Plus the fact that Sanguinous Rai is as famous as Naruto can be.

---

I was delighted. It was the delight that came from camaraderie of blood family in the same battleship we call Ikram, that tempted me to spill out the cliched "Did you know (insert RJ's name) as well? She's my housemate," in a flurry of excitement.

But then it hit me. Why was I so excited? Sure, same battleship. But it's a battleship, not a club for prestige and bragging up the social status that came with a $60k annual membership fee. A battleship holds a group of people with different positions and roles but all with the same vision. We have our work cut out for us. Did I fully functioned and contributed?

Our amal should define us, not the club we're in.

---

The son who studied in France went to the family quarter and talked with my brother who was watching the Selangor versus ATM football match. He was friendly. When we sent them off and Hazim showed up, he was also friendly then.

Amiable from the first sight. DF-friendly, something I could endorse as fully out of my reach. He would make Syeikh Mustafa Masyhur very proud.