The golden yellow cabin luggage

Ayyash was on fire on a Wednesday. That Friday Roy and the gang organised to help pack things out of Ayyash. They did it on their own, they know me too well that I would never ask for their help. Haha.

Really, it wasn't like I could do anything on  my own...

That morning I went to Ayyash from Umair's place to unlock the place. Went to pack my things up. It was kind of awkward. I kept bowing my head and saying thank you to everyone I met. It was suffocating. I don't want to come back, not so soon, but I cannot not join them for they'll figure out I was then unstable.

But I only lasted two hours. I went out without telling anyone, leaving the things I was packing halfway. Because everything was a mess. Everything smelled like soot and it was black everywhere. Everything I touched left my fingers black with soot. The only thing mine I was wearing was my Crocs, everything else was borrowed. I was homeless and my belongings were either burned or blackened. And I have to pick up the pieces. Why didn't everything just burned with the fire? Then we wouldn't have to pack things and I wouldn't have to come back and be suffocated...

It was bad thoughts.

I went to cool off by the Nile. Sat on the bench and just stare at nothing for a good one hour. After assuring myself that something good will come out of this, I stood up and walked back to Ayyash.

I passed a lot of the girls as they started to transfer the lighter-weighted items (mostly mine) to Muntalaq which was two blocks away. There was minimal packing left to be done. Roy and I waited for the guys to come to transfer the heavier items. She didn't ask where I went.

I went to my room and laid on my stripped-off bed one  last time, looking out of the balcony.

I owed a lot of people a lot of things. I have to live my life properly so their help would not be in vain. Even if right now all I see is soot, soot can be washed out and it'll be gone. Need scrubbing and all, but it'll be gone.

Don't give up.

---

Nine months later. Today I washed my Camel cabin luggage that was originally golden yellow. I'm going back to Malaysia in four days, I cannot let my parents see such a disgraced grey object.

It took a lot of scrubbing to get the soot off that thing and I was too lazy to scrub every single corner off, but it's an acceptable golden yellow again.

Itachi is a dear character though. Guess I really do dig older guys.

Sasuke is a heavy case of psychiatry. Guy has more issue than the manga tankoubon itself. Kishi-sensei messed him up beyond repair. I don't like that duck-butt-haired traitorous brat. His is a case of too much brooding kills intelligence.

These memes really cracked me up during this insomnia night.

Pretty people and a half-girl

The female mushrif

On the way to the ward Amirul said the guys went to see classic Japanese drum at the Opera House the night before. I stomped my feet why didn't they invited me along.

"Takkan la semua lelaki tetiba kau sorang perempuan."

"Takpe!" I pumped my fist. "Aku boleh jadi mushrif korang!"

And then I cowered behind Umair to avoid his hand out to smack my head.

The beautiful resident

First stop was Dept 23. Peeked for a resident and a doctor with a beautiful smile smiled at us.

"Hi we're sixth year students. May we clerk cases tonight?"

"Yes, but not the CCU."

"Of course. I meant the ward. Do you have valvular disease cases?"

"Yes, come with me."

And we tagged along to the female ward. She chatted with the patients, the makcik2 all salamed with her and that ceaseless lovely smile. I picked out her name was Dr. Salma.

She approached this one tired looking lady with abdominal distension but she still had a smile on her face. The resident asked for permission for us to examine her and presented her case to us.

The patient is diagnosed 10 years ago with mild mitral stenosis during her first pregnancy. Did baloon dilatation 3 years later and went against the advice to perform a valve replacement. Now presenting 36 weeks pregnant with severe MS and heart failure NYHA class 4. Waiting for 37 weeks for her delivery before performing a mitral replacement.

Dr. Salma located the apex for us and let us auscultate the clear mid diastolic rumbling murmur. God it was a good murmur. I smiled happily at the clear sound before feeling bad for the patient.

We left the department with a new resolve. "Kena jadi doktor yang baik dan cantik dan sentiasa senyum macam Dr. Salma."

The bespectacled resident

We went to Dept 24 afterwards and it was Umair's turn to approach the resident. He was sitting behind the table in the office wearing navy scrubs and half-framed spec. I came up to Umair just as she asked whether the department had any valvular cases.

He told us a brief description of this one patient, his name, age, physical description. "I think he has both aortic and mitral. He's in the room opposite this room."

Umair thanked him and asked for his name. He grinned and said, "Again?"

Umair was perplexed while I had an epiphany.

"Dr. Ashraf!" I grinned in triumph. He laughed and nodded. "You didn't wear spectacles that night, that's why we didn't recognize you!"

"Yes yes I didn't. Contacts," he grinned.

We came here two nights ago and clerked a heart failure patient scheduled for an operation the day after. Usually we come and ask the resident what case they have, but that night we saw the patient and decided on him because he was warm and welcomed us to the department. Turned out he was pseudocooperative with us. That night was rather unproductive and as we were discussing the conclusion and how to better ourselves next time, we didn't notice the group of staff nearby.

The one standing with a cup of hot tea in his hand asked us who we are and what were we doing in the department. We answered him.

"Next time, do ask the resident what case you need. There is no use if you auscultate a CABG, what are you going to get?"

I nodded at his bullseye shot. We went against our norm that night, we were at fault. He was wearing a striped shirt with rolled up sleeve and dark jeans. He looked like a cross between Dr. Omar Barada the Ophthal hotstuff and Dr. Abo Bakr the Ortho Don. If I met him during office hour, I'd guess him as an assistant lecturer because of his age.

"What is your name, doctor?" Umair asked.

"My name? My name is Dr. Ashraf. I'm a resident in this department." And he resumed holding up a chest xray to the light with his right hand holding his cup of tea.

Well, he looked better without his specs. Though I would like to suggest he switch to a trendier full-rimmed nerd specs. I bet people will fall right and left (but I don't mean patients crashing, of course hahah.)

When we called it a night, Amirul told me to bid the resident for us. So in I went. He was fiddling with his phone.

"Dr. Ashraf. We're leaving. Thank you, have a good night."

"Merci."

We walked out. And then, "Argh lupa. Next time kena suruh dia kirim salam ke Dr. Ayman Gado."

The GIT Gang

Stomach is well known to be patient. When it loses its patience it goes mad.

The duodenum is very respectable. We do not want to mess up with it.

The appendix either stay silent or scream. It doesn't grumble or complain all day.

The terminal ileum is pivotal. It is very important.

Be happy and live proud

Happiness
Experience
Time

There was this word search game that say the first 3 words you find is the things you want most in life. The above is what my eyes scanned, with Health being the fourth.

I think I picked out a rather adult triad. Nice going there 0 and +0.25 (lulz).

I think it has to do with what your brain is most familiar with and thus that's what it picked first. And where you start scanning from, too. Most people answered Love and Love happened to be in the top row.

---

Had an awkward but pleasant dream starring Dr. Shen last night. I'll write properly later.

The drug dealer, lol

Stopped by the pharmacy on my way back from class. Took my phone out and reread the SMS from my roommate. She asked me to buy a topical cream for her. There were three other customers ahead of me so I waited behind them patiently. The owner who was sitting and leaving his one assistant to handle the three customers stood up at the sight of me and approached the counter.

"Aiwah?"

Wow I was special. "Assalamualaikum. 3andak (insert generic name of drug)?"

"3andi," he crouched down for the cream on the bottom shelf and handed it over. I read the label. Yup, that's it.

"Bikam dah?"

"Khamsah illa rub3."

I took out my coin pouch. LE4.75, dirt cheap.

"Do you have change?" Eh who spoke that. I looked up from rummaging for my change. Waah the owner speaks perfect English. "Because I don't have."

Situation like this always makes me awkward. Should I reply in English or Arabic? Polite to use the same language, right?

"Yes I have." I handed him five LE1 coins.

"I don't have rub3 either. I'll give you this." He handed me a yellow pill and said the name, but I didn't hear it. "It's for headace, backpain, joint pain.."

Joint pain, I'm not that old yet. I flipped the pill over and read the Arabic writing. "Ah ketoprofen." I laughed. "Okay, shukran."

"3afwan."

I chuckled to myself as I walked outside the store. Ketoprofen. I never took anything stronger than paracetamol because I mostly take my drugs unrelated to meal. Is ketoprofen actually OTC? This drug can cause peptic ulcer and needs to be taken with meal. He should be advising me this instead of listing the indications.

Oh well. The perks of being recognised as a medical student.

It was late evening that I remember being sick is kafarah for your sins

Not really my day today. But other people had it worse. Writing this down so I can sleep in peace.

First I was woken up because of a terrible nausea and was forced to stay quite a bit in the bathroom (I will spare you the details). Then I took a shower and the dark-coloured towel I used had a whole army of fire ants on it. Imagine the horror of toweling your face and realising your face and chest stung. It was horrible but I'm proud my brain swiftly took action and I didn't scream. I took an antihistamine right after coming out of the bathroom. 

And then I was attacked by Bobby the cat on the stairway. She really was something. Cute but doesn't behave an inch like a cat. This wasn't the first time she attacked me though, I wonder what I did.

Dr. Hussein started his class at 9.45 today until 11.45. It was normal but I was so nauseous in class it was terrible. I felt like I had too much, but it wasn't even noon yet. I tried to find silly amusement for myself throughout his class to make it through without vomiting in between my legs. 

One of it was when he mentioned about gastric outlet obstruction (GOO) and asked what's the equivalent of it in the urinary. Nobody could answer and finally he answered it himself in that slight exasperated tone.

"BOO! It's BOO! Bladder outlet obstruction!" 

I giggled and then felt more nauseous.

Walked back home for my medication. Took a tablet of Streptoquin and crashed on my roommate's mattress. Slept a full three hours. Prayed Zohor and waited for Asar. Curled like a fetus because I was still so nauseous I didn't want to get up. 

It was near 7pm that I realised I haven't eaten anything at all today. I had a glass of water and a glass of cold milk tea this morning. Grabbed a bar of chocolate in the fridge and spoke for the first time with my housemates to tell them "I have gastroenteritis" coded "leave me alone today". 

Prayed Maghrib and went curling again. Still very nauseous. I have been reciting "edema of stomach wall" all over today. Decided to do myself good and fried an omelette for the sick girl.

The omelette burned. It was terrible, I couldn't believe I burned an omelette. It was so bitter but I can't waste food. I want my mom. Took another tablet of Streptoquin and the stomach quieted down a bit.

Right now it's nearly half pass 8. Not that nauseous anymore alhamdulillah but I can't handle Bobby so I haven't been back to Umair's yet. Kevin and my surgical anatomy book are there.

I am responsible and I do write good reviews as my contribution to the community

Regarding the latest (73) chapter of Hirunaka no Ryuusei,

GOOD WORK MAMURA, GOOD WORK! \(★v★)/

I think I'm going to live always the observer, always the one who walked pass. It makes for great collection of memories but I can't help feeling missing out. Oh well.

As I mentioned in a previous post, we requested a written speech from the dean for our graduation yearbook and despite his dead-fish-eye look when I met him that 11 in the morning, he gave me his yes. The deadline was on Sunday but his class was cancelled until Tuesday, which signaled him being very super extreme busy. Not a good sign.

So yesterday Wednesday, I went to class. As I entered the campus, I saw him walking crisply by the Anatomy Department while in a distance, a dog barked. He walked towards the compound in front of the conference hall (going my direction, of course) and Kimi the three-legged collie (Izyan named him) was laying there. I bet it was him who barked, though he looked unthreatened. The dean kept his eyes on the dog while walking pass him with a kind look in his eye. After a good four meters away yet his head still turned towards the dog, Kimi finally got up and slowly followed the dean.

Hahaha. What is this? Even the dog respects the dean of medicine. Kimi really is part of the Kasr el Ainy Faculty of Medicine family.

P/s: Last Ramadan Dijah asked him if we could come visit him at his home for the Eid and he nodded whimsically. "We can arrange that. We have many cats." was what he said. I surely have good taste in crushes, bwahaha. (We never did get to arrange, he was too busy.)

His mood seemed good. He had only two cancelled call throughout the two hours half class that he called back in a short while. He was wearing white shirt and dark navy pants looking comfortable and ready to accomplish things today. I should not worry about bothering him if I ask him about the speech today.

But this stupid girl was segan. Go die la. So she decided to ask him tomorrow.

And so tomorrow came and became today. There was no dean sighting but when I climbed the stairs to the lecture halls, I saw the radiologist lady looking out with an unreadable expression.

So the dean isn't in yet? I walked pass her and entered the class at 8.30. I deduced right. The class was hot, Mr. Samy hadn't turn the aircond on yet. Why? I usually come around 8 and the class was cool and comfortable already.

"He just unlocked the door. There was a power outage until just now," Su said.

Oh. Took out my textbook and studied while having my breakfast.

8.50am and still no dean in sight. Was he going to call off the class? Mr. Samy came and announced the dean will be coming, he was currently in the hospital sorting out the power outage. We thanked him and went back self-study.

The dean entered at 9.15am. He seemed rather irritable, his voice sounded cracked. Ah Hana, you really should have asked him about the speech yesterday.

Around ten. He was vivaing one Egyptian classmate on the battery of investigation for an abdominal pain when a call came. His face turned solemn and excused himself to answer that call. Pardon my poor Arabic, but all I deduced from that call was it was from a respected person and it was serious. The call ended and the dean made another call to one of his subordinates to ask him to ask this Mr. Samir to come meet him at Lecture Hall 6. Asap.

10.20am. One guy arrived and the dean excused himself and they got busy outside. I turned back to my textbook.

10.45am. Finally the dean re-entered the class, still talking to the subordinates. But suddenly he turned his back towards us facing one subordinate and he yelled. The subordinate talked back. He yelled louder.

Nisa turned to me. "You definitely shouldn't ask him about the speech today." I couldn't agree more.

Egyptian style quarrel, normal. But this is the dean we're talking about. It doesn't equate. And I got a little bit scared. I can't help to be scared when I see my father figure yelling, and I imagined he resumed his class with that kind of post-yelling mood. What if he ask a question and we couldn't answer well. Will he get more frustrated? His usual "entu mish ma3aya" and exasperated look at our sorry faces was hard enough for me. Maybe he will yell at us? Walk out on us? It hurts. However foreseen it is, I will definitely still flinch. And he will definitely apologise profusely to class if he did.

10.47am. The power went out. He entered the class, walked around with his phone and cup of drink for a full minute while Mr. Samy and another lecture-hall maintenance worker came and opened the blinds and windows.

He resumed class with a lower perhaps tired voice and a lighter amd kinder tone. Perhaps he was trying to neutralize his angry self and silently apologising to us. The guys at the back automatically went to sit in the front row and Sarah the Egyptian girl came closer to the isle from her extreme right seat.

He didn't even ask everyone to sit closer with the mic off, but people just did. My thought then was how everyone was accomodating to him, so he need not to raise his voice a notch. It was a sign of huge respect, especially coming from Egyptians. You don't get this scene when the mic was off during the evening lectures with us Malaysians throughout the year.

He made a few jokes and even laughed a bit. Bullied Ahmed twice, first by staring at him while had him explain the meaning of acoustic shadow to Michael the new-sixth-year who came to join us today and second by having him draw the sagittal section of the abdomen on the whiteboard and having him explain the application of it.

This is Egyptians. Capable of 180 degrees mood shift. They yell and then resume life as per usual.

Power came back at 11.20am. Class ended at 11.45am. Amirul was at the door when he walked out, holding his hand out for a handshake. He took it, said bravo that I assumed for coming to class in the summer study leave and asked him about his study progress.

I walked pass them.

Where did August go?

Truthfully the upcoming final exam is scary. We have about two months left to study for it.

Regardless, we have to be brave and believe God is backing us up. Don't be scared and be ready to jump. Despite how scared chicken I feel, I have to face the questions and study harder and faster. I cannot be scared frozen in place.

If I can choose, I just want to stay here and study. But no matter how big of an exam you're facing, you still have a life to tend to. So yeah. Things to do, promises to fill, 14 days to flight home.

Serendipity has left me

As mentioned in the previous post, we had a day-trip to Alex yesterday. Instead of taking a microbus back, we stowed away on the 5pm train to make it back in Cairo by dusk. We already missed Saturday's impromptu class so we didn't want to miss Sunday.

And this morning, we just received the news that class was cancelled for today, tomorrow, and day after. At that news, I simply went flat and spineless. My day seemed bleak. I hate ironies.

But the reason class be cancelled must be because sir was super extra busy. So I should get up and celebrate today's extra-business by being super extra productive...

I need to grow some spine.

---

I don't want to go back to Malaysia yet. Or at all. But going back is to honour my family's love for me, so I must. I bought the tickets way earlier was to ensure mom that I really am coming back.

Guys, see how much I love you here? If anyone dares complain I'm not doing enough I will smack their heads.

A hypocrite in love

I skipped class today. Because I slept in at 6 plus because it was too early to shower. I know it was stupid and I would never wake up by 7 plus, but I slept in anyway. Woke up way too late for class.

Felt terrible, but maybe accustomed to it already. Today was a Thursday. Last class for the week. I think for every night I went out to the hospital, there will be difficulty the next morning.

As it was, we planned to go to Alex this weekend. Friend made appointment with the doc on Saturday. She messaged me just now and said "Sorry we're going to miss Dr. Hussein's class on Saturday."

"Miss Saturday's class?" Did she mean Sunday?

"He just mentioned there will be class on Saturday. But I've already bought the train tickets."

"It's okay. Proceed."

But I feel like crying. It's one thing to miss because of own stupid circumstances, it's another when you're made to miss.

---

It's less than a month to going back to Malaysia but I'm terribly missing him already. This is a twisted love confession of mine. Just saying without doing is not love. I'm terrible at this.

God, if it wasn't for the fact I've bought the international and domestic tickets, I'd plead mom to let me stay in Egypt a little longer.

When you greet people, it makes them happy and that makes you happier.

We went to celebrate Yana's birthday at Steak Out Mohandesin. Great place. Great food, reasonable price, friendly helpful staffs. I really enjoyed myself.

Then a group of people came in. One of them piqued my interest because he looked like Dr. Hazem Dewidar, the gentle doctor who taught us ENT. I will always remember him because he said in his class that he is happy to repeat however many times to us until we understand, but if he have to during the exam, he will be unhappy. Hehe. He patiently taught the class and that left a really huge impression on me.

He was also the first doctor who taught me how to palpate the lymph nodes of head and neck when it was me who clerked the case and he walked me through examining the patient.

ENT was two years ago, the last round we had when I was a fourth year 2011/2012.

"Guys, that's Dr. Hazem from ENT, right?"

The girls didn't concur. But I was really convinced, so I told the girls I would go and greet them properly if they were still present at the end of the night.

So, the ever paparazzi, I stealthily kept my eyes trained on that group all night. I was sitting in the middle facing the landing, thus a clear view of other patrons. The rest however weren't very subtle. The staffs noticed their gushing and gestured between us and that table of doctors "What is it? Somebody you guys know?"

He went outside a bit near our table halfway through our dinner to answer a call, and he smiled and nodded at me. I stood up respectfully and nodded back at him. I think he noticed we were somewhat observing them (or the staffs spilled the bean) and deduced we must had been in his class because we recognised him.

Night ended and we were leaving. Maisarah asked me if I was going to greet the doctors. I said I'll pass, we did nod to Dr. Hazem when he went to answer his call. But just as I stepped out of the restaurant, I had second thought.

"It is polite to greet properly, right?"

Maisarah nodded, so she and Sarah went along with me. I walked deliberately to their table and smiled with my posture facing the doctor I remembered. The whole table smiled back.

"Assalamualaikum, all of you sir are ENT doctors, right?"

The table nodded "Yes, yes," and smiled. I noticed our coordinator was also with them but I forgot his name... Is it Dr. Solah?

"We're sixth year students. Final students."

"Final?" Dr. Hazem asked.

"Yes," I smiled. "You taught us ENT two years ago. Thank you doctor for teaching us a lot." They grinned happily and nodded back as I nodded gratefully at them.

"Thank you Dr. Hazem." I addressed him confidently. And what do you know, his grin got wider and humbler. So I did remember correctly. Thank God.

We left with a "ma3assalamah" and the table buzzed. I left the restaurant feeling very happy and thanked Maisarah and Sarah for accompanying me.

"Thank you for reminding me to go greet them. If I didn't, I think I'll be very regretful."

"I know," Maisarah said. "You were really excited when you first saw the doctor."

I guess I was, haha. Our doctors are the real heroes and celebrities for me, may Allah always bless them and ease them in their responsibilities.

Silver ring on right middle finger

Yesterday I bought a new spectacles frame from a peddler cart. The colour looked nice so I picked it out. Then I noticed the handle had human pictures on it, the only one I recognised was Che Guevara.

Tacky, I thought. I put it aside and picked up another one.

The peddler came and took the one I put down. "This one is very good," he coaxed and hyperextended the handles. It didn't crack. "It's made of plastic so it won't break."

Damn we need those, Haru said. I remembered my thin metal-framed Ray Ban aviator that sustained a fracture the other day. I manually reduced it but the bent is still palpable. Despite always telling myself the damned thing costed LE450, I never fail to drop or squish it one way or another.

I paid LE20 for the revolutionary frame and went my merry way.

Umair said another person she picked out from the mass was Ali Shaarati, Iran revolutionist. She patted my back for my good taste.

Friends asked why I wear my ring where it is. I tell them it's because it's too big to fit my ring finger. Truth is I bought it to fit my middle finger and a silver, all that to mimic that dude. Haha..