You shouldn't be violent in public

I'm so mad at Abul right now because out of nowhere he called me short four times and Umair didn't help at all! and that kid Abul wasn't even sorry! He only stopped because I ditch the conversation but argh I am so mad I want to headbutt him right now break his nose step on his carotid and kick his ribs. God I want to hurt him so bad.

This is so frustrating. People think Edward Elric storming because people call him small is funny but it's not, it's frustrating. There's nothing you can do except break their legs and stick them on their heads.

Edited:

Physically hurting Abul is impossible because he's not in Kelantan and randomly spouting curses is unbecoming. And I've asked Bapis to hit him for me.

I decided to not tolerate this ever again. The next time someone starts to comment about my height, my immediate response is:

"Take that back and apologise. I do not take this insult as a joke." And a cold death glare is suffice.

25

I'm 25 today. Yesterday if I round up my age I was 20 but today I would be 30, so we're never going to breach this topic for the next five years.

Last year I listed three mottos to live by
1) to not be childish by eating hot food that I burn my tongue.
2) to always live sincerely for I don't know when my time is. (This I got from Mohamed Zeyara who posted about this exactly a year ago.)
3) to worship as prophets and salafussoleh did; as a free man who believes Allah deserve to be worshipped instead of because I was afraid of His wrath for not worshipping him nor because I wanted to be rewarded. (This I got from Roy. I love her, I even named my graduation teddy after her.)

and I think I succeeded for number one. Two and three will be sticking around.

I thank Allah for His love and mercy that made me possible to reach this age. I thank Allah for my mother and father who made me possible and raise me. I thank Allah for my family and close friends who love and tolerate me.

I still don't know how to best celebrate birthdays, but I will eat a cake in that thought.

On this day, I wish for Allah that there is no day that I live without doing good to people. And I wish Allah give me a normal productive sleep cycle.

Ameen.

Of tikar and pride

My eldest brother served two years plus in Sibu, Sarawak. He has only recently been transferred back to our hometown and whenever he introduced himself, he'd tell them he was just "transferred back from Sarawak."

That day in the car as he told me that, he said with a grin he was proud to have served in Sarawak. A place across the sea away from our hometown, the other side of Malaysia most peninsular people dread to go for duty. But duty is duty, and our fellow citizens are not just people in our own family.

Another way he showcased his pride is his support to the local business. Since he went there, he has been a regular supplier of Sarawak layered cake for our household use. He also bought two tikar since to decorate our living spaces; the first was an unoriginal production made by Indonesians and the second an original, six times more expensive and worth every cent of it, fine tikar rotan made by the Ibans. Nowadays they don't commercialise and produce only for family use. Bro bought it through his Iban friend.

For the record bro is married from before he was stationed in Sarawak. He is the eldest of us seven critters and he married our sister-in-law who is also the eldest in her family.

All of me love all of you, mom

I love my mom. I don't think we can ever survive without mom. If mom isn't around things everything would be useless and awkward.

I'm not the best daughter I should be. I didn't help her as much as I should. There were times I lost patience and went into silent mode. But mom she never stop doing her best for us.

I love my mom so much. I pray Allah give her strength, I pray Allah give her the best health, and Allah keep her happy for her to continue loving us the way she does.

Kid leader, whatever

I was lazying around on the couch. The tv was off and I was about four meters away from the remote. Melle was in the kitchen even farther away from the remote.

"Amelia, Amelia," I called out her full name while stretching like a cat. "Tolong bukak tv. Kakak Melle tolong saya."

Melle continued eating a pizza.

"Kakak Melle tolong sayaaaaa."

Dad was out of my sight ironing his clothes. I heard his voice addressing Melle in the kitchen.

"Kakak kamu kenapa?"

Melle shrugged and finished her pizza. But then she came and turned on the tv for me hewhewhew.

Sleep-deprived people are rude

When I get less than two hours sleep, I get really pissed off. Yesterday morning I had such a misfortune and when mom came to wake me up, I rudely threw her out with as much anger a sleep-deprived person mumbling "go away" could muster. She was understanding of my inhumane nature and went out. Sorry mom, thank you.

I dragged myself out after five minutes and plopped myself into my seat. Morning person dad chatted us up as usual but I couldn't take it. It was quarter pass five in the morning, for God sake. After a few minutes of enduring and mentally screaming at him to be quiet, I interjected him asking Maru a question with an exasperated "it's too early".

"What's too early?" He asked back. Explaining myself would probably see me throwing my cup to the wall so I closed my eyes and pretended I was back in bed.

Mom turned to the silent me and asked "What time did you sleep last night?"

I'll give her credit for picking up cues better than dad. But like I would ever answer that. They would offer unhelpful suggestions and I would just get more pissed off.

Five hours

Clinically I was good for blood donating. Before she let me off towards the bed the nice medical officer asked me one last question pertaining to my health status.

"Did you get enough at least 5 hours sleep last night?"

I laughed. She glanced at me questioningly. I nodded, still laughing.

"Yes, I did."

I didn't lie. 3-5am and 7-10am do sum up to five hours.

When I told Fadzlin about it, she questioned about my blood pressure. 121/71 I recalled that number jotted on my form. I asked her the significance.

"Whenever I didn't get enough sleep, I end up hypotensive. How did you do it?"

"I'm chronic. I guess my body learned to live."

---

"Jange tiyok deh."

"Huh?" I heard the nurse said something but I wasn't paying attention to her when another nurse was cuffing my arm.

"Jange nangih," Fadzlin offered.

"Haa. Jange nangih deh. Dia ni ore luar."

"Ooh tak." So they thought I didn't understand. "Lagipun saya bukan Orang Luar."

"IC Kelantan ke? Mak ayah orang luar?"

"Tak dan tak. Kitorang dah.. 23 tahun tinggal kat Kelantan ni. Sekolah semua sini."

"Tapi takde bunyi Kelantan pun," the nurse sounded amused.

"Sebab saya ni degil." I laughed.

I wonder what he did with his shirts

Since my brain is refusing sleep, let us do throwbacks.

We regularly had scrotum patients during Dr. Mohamed Abdouh's class. The grandpa would examine first using gloves before addressing us and continuing the lesson.

One day as he addressed us right after examining the patient's scrotum, he casually put his hand on Zizou's shoulder who happened to be closest to him and tapped the lad's shoulder amiably... with his gloved hand. The whole class looked on in horror while holding in our laughter as Zizou tried to cover his stricken face from the innocent doctor's gaze. He looked like he was gagging.

If you don't get the joke, a scrotum (or "balls") examination isn't just probing the organ with one finger. It includes several manoeuvres that will have your whole palm in direct and intimate contact with the scrotum and whatever it is on it. You should also know that most of our patients bathe at a frequency of less than once daily.

The funniest thing is that it happened twice, both times poor Zizou was at the receiving end. Thus we Class 1 General Surgery are in debt to him for taking one (or two) for the team.

700k

Today dad came back from sending Innova for a tyre check and announced to me:

"Kakngah, beli rumah."

Me: Okay.

It's an RM700k about 1110 sq ft three-bedroom apartment in the city. Dad had it all figured out. I'm in, since buying an apartment is already in my plan set to motion once I start working.

But I kept thinking is the price right for a first apartment.

---

I always thought dad encouraging me to buy property is his sign of apologising. He has three daughters and two properties. His will states that those two are going to my younger sisters.

I hope he knows that I'm cool about it. I can come and go as I want. I don't want to be tied down.

Nak nangis tengok Hannibal S3E6

Hannibal and Will should never be in the same scene. It never end well. I was "Please don't hurt him please don't" all through, until Hannibal pulled out a portable grinder. Jack and I shared the same stricken face.

Me: No no no please don't, no-

And Hannibal, as he suggested, started craniotomy.

Me: Arghhh nooo please stopp!!

Mom and everyone else made some comment about me and the show but I didn't catch what they said. I'm too.. oh God my Will.

Let's not scream at each other

One time in the labour room of Kasrel Ainy, the resident helped by two seasoned nurses tried to inject LA for episiotomy but he failed all his three attempts. Three bloodied syringes of LA went to waste, the patient was already tearing and time was ticking. He did what he had to do and immediately cut. The Egyptian lady screamed in sheer agony.

Her scream was distinctly more agonising than her previous cries while pushing. I, the student watching over his shoulder, cringed at this ugly reality. Baby was soon delivered.

---

One time in Surgical OPC, I observed our assistant lecturer removing a patient's toenail. He injected the needed amount of LA and after waiting for the drug to take effect, gently poked her toe with the needle.

"Do you feel pain?" He asked. She said negative so he proceeded to poke through her toe with said needle. I cringed at the ugly reality. But the patient, blocked from the view of what really was going on, merely cringed slightly.

"Doctor it hurts," she groaned and complained throughout him pulling her toenail out. It was like a torture scene from a movie, except gangs usually don't have the decency of using LA.

(On another note, I remember Double Agent Ward removed Agent Bobbi's fingernails under LA as he gleefully and evilly explained to her that he wanted her to feel all the pain in one go as he didn't plan on supplying her with subsequent doses of painkiller.)

Our doctor turned to me with a grin. "No it doesn't. What she felt was pressure. If it really does hurt she would have jumped out of this bed."

---

Sometimes I picture myself throwing a patient's relative out for verbally lashing out on hospital staffs. I can really see myself losing patience with morons. But at the same time, image of our very gigih Vascular assistant lecturer who was yelled at by a patient's relative in front of us students came to mind.

That one time in Department 29A, he very calmly handled the situation. He explained briefly what we were doing and asked him to sit and wait outside. Then he turned back to us and resumed teaching like nothing happened.

I rarely read newspapers but when I do...

I was reading Focus Week on their analysis of the idea of a new NGO by Mr. Nazir Razak (Najib's bro) and in there was a commentar by Mr. Wan Saiful representing IDEAS.

I went on FB afterwards and in my feed a post by said Mr. Wan Saiful. I just read an article with this guy's name in it so it piqued my interest. I clicked on his profile and read the post.

Apparently some IS*A activist went to his house and left leaflets promoting the organisation to him. He showed his displeasure by equating them to Jeh*vah's Witness and entertained the idea of propping a signboard by his gate warning IS*A to stay off limit.

IS*A activists and supporters alike swarmed his post. They even wrote on the official website equating his response to that of Abu Jahal.

I don't see any difference.

However tempting it is to do bad things like slash tyres or burn things, God is with the patients.

As a human, I fully understand and appreciate that accident happens and life is tragic. Period. Add to that, as a doctor-to-be, I fully understand and appreciate that no good doctors would deliberately harm a patient and one accident should not blind you of the hundreds good job done.

There's nothing I can do about facts that are not in favour of me, so I prayed for God's forgiveness for every wrongdoings that we had done and for Him to make this easier for me. I cannot afford to worsen my trust issue and distrust the only of the very few dentists I would trust and my educated opinion dictated I cannot bolt out of the clinic with a bleeding hole in the floor of my mouth.

"Relax. I've never seen you this anxious before," that beloved big bro of mine calmly said with one finger in my mouth trying to stop the bleeding. I threw him a death glare that screamed "YOU THINK?"

The only thing I can control is how I feel about it so to make myself happier about this incident, I imagined burning my brother's bed (because burning his room will have greater effect on the rest of our house) and slashing his tyres as he worked to ensure hemostasis.

It worked for the first few hours, or maybe it was just my relief from being able to get out of there. But now I'm upset because I have a suture near the base of my tongue and I'm not always in control of my tongue to not have it pressing on the knot.

I'm writing this in an effort to make me feel better. But edited hours later, let me update you that the effort failed.

Since I studied Surgery, I know for fact that immobilisation favours healing thus I fear the wound would take more time to heal or worse infected or bleed, since my tongue kept knocking on it as I chew my food. This made me more upset. I quietly finished what little I had for break fast and my mom asked me if I wanted porridge.

What I wanted, I told her as I got up to wash my dishes, was to burn things.

Third edit: I cried a bit because I was miserable. Then I went on FB and remembered there are people more unfortunate than me crying over an inconveniently placed suture and that slapped me out of my sissiness and humbled me. I no longer want to burn things.

"Stay strong."

I want to be a person who doesn't complain of hardship, but many years later on a fine night will reminiscent those crappy days while enjoying tea. I do believe I'm too old for complaining anyway.

---

Hello. Some might know that I have received my job offer letter in the mail on Sunday. This makes me a likely candidate for the July placement thus inshaAllah will start working in August.

I'm not exactly excited about it as my earlier tinge of frustration was from my unemployed state and with this news, thankfully put a deadline to the status. Impartial will be a good description. I didn't bring this topic up among my friends because I understand their ranges of frustration from their letter yet to arrive. But it's hard to feel sorry for us when we have friends who haven't graduated yet.

On another note, I have gotten used to this sedentary lifestyle where my concerns are the speck of dust on the floor and what time will I sleep today. This news means I'm eligible for duit raya this year so please don't pretend otherwise.

In the mean time, I'm planning to do some landscaping, spring cleaning the house and whatnot. Maybe bake things for Raya and bring some to the hospital if Sarah and Kak Raihan work that day.