Out by 4pm

In Ortho OR today apart from concluding orthopaedic is carpentry on the human body, I questioned my interest in surgical-based. Into the 5th hour observing up to 3 surgeries, I got bored and restless.

Maybe it's my attention deficit thing. Maybe I will feel better when it's me assisting or performing. Maybe. Maybe Emergency is my calling. Maybe it's too early to decide anything. Maybe I should go fold my clothes.

While closing up the patient's forearm with simple interrupted sutures, Dr. Mostafa Ezzat commented how polite and well organised we are. "This is noted by all the doctors who teached the Malaysian students. Your behaviours are not like the other Arabians."

I chuckled awkwardly before thanking him. I suppose it is our cultural upbringing that taught us to respect our elders especially our teachers. As a brat I do have my rebellious moments and pick who to respect, but I never disrespect my teachers.

He told us how easy it was to invigilate our written Surgery exam "because all of you were focused on his papers and not looking around to others or cheating" unlike the Egyptians who they had to continuously remind to not look around and to not cheat. Even then they caught a few with mobiles and cheating papers.

Dr. Mostafa then asked us why we studied in Egypt, so I answered typically that the government sent us here because we lack professors and teaching hospitals in Malaysia. His assistant rephrased his question, "I think he meant why Egypt and not some other country."

Ah, why indeed. I wanted to study in Australia because OZ lamb chop are super delicious but my high school principal said Egypt's are way better, plus I needed a place to practise my Arabic so that's why I applied for Middle East and accepted Egypt.

But I can't actually tell my assistant lecturer that. They might think I'm a superficial glutton, which isn't wrong but I like to think I'm deeper than that.

So yeah. "We studied Arabic in high school so we chose to further in any Arabic-speaking country. The choice was between Egypt and Jordan."

"Which is better, Egypt or Jordan?" His assistant asked.

"I have no idea." This is a subjective question.

"Don't you have friends in Jordan?"

"We have, because of that of course we will say Egypt is better."

Dr. Mostafa then asked if we heard of Moaz el-Kasesbeh. I nodded. "The pilot from Jordan executed by ISIL."

Chip asked who and I told the poor katak bawah tempurung guy who he was. The table discussed the merciless execution before the assistant surgeon who was facing the opposite room commented dryly, "The patient in the other room collapses."

We turned around as he continued his narration. "They're doing CPR."

Chip and Radhi went to the other side and I watched from where I was leaning on to the OT wall. I was actually in that opposite room when they wheeled him in, drowsy yet stable. I thought it looked like a difficult case since the patient was readied with 3 packed RBC and another anaesthetist came in with a bag of platelet and WBC. I turned back to the ulna osteotomy and TFC correction operation and observed them finishing up with a posterior slab.

I went for toilet break and came back to see they were still doing CPR. His ECG showed VF then charged then sinus. The anaes put his stets on the patient's apex with a solemn face. They continued CPR.

"Sinus tapi takde pulse," Chip said.

"PEA. Dia kena treat underlying cause," I said just as I heard the anaes ordered for potassium.

Hypoxia
Hypovolemia
Hypothermia
Hypo/hyperkalemia
Massive MI
Massive pulmonary edema
Tension pneumothorax
Tension cardiac tamponade
Massive pleural eff
Acid base disturbance
Drug OD

Asystole then another VF and the cycle continued. I could only ceaseless repeat allahumma innaka 3afuwwun kareem tuhibbul 3afwa fa'fu3anni throughout the resuscitation. After half hour of resus I went out and into another OR where Dr. Fouad was performing a knee wash out on an infected ACL patient.

They were still resuscitating (by then the room was occupied by at least four anaes and a nurse, the surgeon in charge was elsewhere.) when I bid Dr. Mostafa a goodbye and asked him to sign my logbook. He returned my book after signing it.

"Is that all?"

I scanned the page. "You're supposed to comment on my participations," I grinned and pointed to where the comment part was.

He ticked, ticked and ticked. He returned my book with a smile. "You are super excellent, not just excellent."

"Hehe. Thank you doctor. Thank you very much. See you."