"and on to the next!"

Day 5 of being in Auckland, it's New Years Eve and I'm sitting in my sister's studio alone listening to Daniel Munro just... thinking... mulling... wondering... I'm not a big "New Years" type of person, normally snuggling up in my pyjamas in front of the TV and falling asleep way before midnight. Staying up feels kind of anticlimactic to me, all this hype, all this waiting around, and then when it's midnight, it's just... another midnight, another passing from one day to the next.

But I don't deny the idea of a new year doesn't get me reflecting, once again, on the unceasing, unwavering, immutable passing of time. And of the change that is by nature inextricably linked.

I get excited at the thought of a new year, because I know that it'll hold so many new experiences, brilliant conversations with newly discovered amazing people, beautiful moments, true pains, all of which will lead to growth... and change. I get excited because I know that when 2009 comes to an end I'll once again find myself reflecting on how much has changed, around me, within me; how I'm not the same person I was a year ago; and how awesome that is.

For who could have guessed the kinds of plans, thoughts, concerns, dreams I currently have cluttering the moments of my day, this day? Most definitely not the Anna of a year ago. And who can guess the kinds of plans, thoughts, concerns, dreams I will have this time in a year's time. Not the person I am right now, that's for sure.

less is sometimes more

Having spent most of my life with no extended family on the same continent, Christmases for as long as I can remember have been pretty... Quiet. Relaxed. Simple. Mum, dad, Kirsty and me, just the four of us. Kirsty normally took the lead in putting up the tree sometime in December; presents and Church on Christmas Day. What's more, as Kirsty and I have gotten older, not to mention the whole Southern Hemisphere Christmas deal, it's felt less and less like a commercial holiday - this big To Do - and more just another chance to hang out together as a family. And this year, for the first time ever, it's not even the four of us.

Subsequently, I cannot believe how incredibly chilled out Christmas has been. Every family has their tradition, and this, I have come to realise, is ours. No tree, a couple presents, a drive out to the beach on Christmas Eve, a small bbq for lunch tomorrow for the three of us.

But you know what? There's something truly spectacular, truly special, in all of its simplicity. Another day, another memory that I will always cherish.

Merry Christmas. :)

609 sleeps to go

According to the conceptually snazzy but aesthetically not-so-snazzy Countdown Widget I've recently added to my blog, there is now officially only 609 more days until I leave for my medical elective, August 16th 2010.

Yayayayayayayayayayayaya!

Why does it often feel like I'm one of the few amongst my classmates who is seriously looking forward to their elective? It's basically what's getting me through med school, the freedom of three whole months of travelling wherever I want to go in the world to do absolutely whatever I want to do (within the constraints of medicine, of course).

And about a week ago I pretty much made up my mind to spend those three months in Gambia with The Medical Research Council, UK. I've been going back and forth between medicine in a developing country (i.e. Africa or South America), or doing an internship at an international organisation involved in health policy (i.e. in Washington D.C., NYC, Geneva, London, etc.) -- or both. I never did warm up to the idea of the latter, dividing up my three months into two six-week chunks -- popular with students because it's the more "tourist-y" option, choosing your destination institution more to explore that city/country/region rather than to get knee-deep into the institution itself. Good for travelling around for fun, but you'd come out of it with a mere Readers Digest appreciation of the medicine and culture involved. And while I have to admit the thought of spending three months in Washington D.C. interning for an NGO is wildly attractive (cue: West Wing nostalgia) and would so not be a wasted experience in any way given my future ambitions, I feel like (a.) I have the rest of my life to get involved with NGOs in places like Washington D.C. and NYC considering that's what I want to do with my life(!), but (b.) I feel like if I don't go to Africa now as a student, I probably never will for a long, long time; it will remain on my to-do list and it won't be until I'm 50years old when the guilt and remorse of studying third world health policy but never experiencing it for myself will become too much that I will finally acquiesce and take a sabbatical from my cushy white collar position to go, after which I will feel ten billion M&Ms worth of regret for not getting around to it until then.

Hence, three-months in Africa it is. So the next question is, where in Africa??

I've been talking to a friend of mine who's just finished her third year of medicine and is taking a year off to volunteer, six months of which she will spend doing research for the Medical Research Council, UK in Gambia. Surprisingly enough, she's got almost the exact same interests in global health policy as I do, and the same goals, ambitions and direction for her future career. The similarities are, to some degree, unbelievable. But I guess that's why we get along so well, a rare find amongst medical students! So we were out for dessert one night and she was telling me more about the Medical Research Council, and I literally fell in love.

I will spare the details because most people aren't interested (at all) in any of it, but suffice it to say, my plans are set: three weeks travelling Eastern Europe on the way to Africa, ten weeks in Gambia, and two weeks travelling back exploring Western Europe or revisiting the US to finish... and then graduation... and then the rest of my life!

609 more sleeps to go! Not that far yet!!

(relatively more) instant gratification

I can't wait for graduation... two more years, two more years, two more years... And I can't wait to try out my new heels -- at least I won't have to wait two years for the latter!

one of the rare moments I wished I had a fancier cellphone with camera capabilities

Today as I was walking to my car after work there was a helicopter trying to land on a bit of lawn between two houses.

There was a crowd of people watching and cars slowing down with eager eyes fixed on the action.

I have no idea what it was doing, whether it was an urgent landing or just a couple guys foolishly mucking around, but I must admit it was pretty cool to watch -- I've never seen a helicopter hover so close to the roof of a building before.

They tried to land for a bit, and then gave up and flew away... mighty fast, I might add, which argues against the emergency landing theory.

Oh, and I had the best Chocolate Truffle Hot Chocolate today... mhmmm... it was pure gluttonous pleasure!

humility 101

For as long as I can remember writing a novel has been on my list of things I want to achieve in my life before I die. That and getting a degree from Harvard, renting a house in Santorini Island and the Irish countryside, being an editor of an international publication, going to Antarctica, sitting in on a meeting at the United Nations, and skydiving. And unlike most of the above, I've been working on writing a novel since... oh, since I was about thirteen years old? Most have been crap, I must admit, purely an outflow for my adolescent angst. But there has been one in the pipeline for the past five years, slow but steady. The only thing I really like about it thus far is the prologue, but even that is no where near ready for anyone to read. I'd been planning on spending a good chunk of this summer working on it more, and I have been a little which is good.

A few days ago I realised I needed something to do between patient appointments during the day so I haphazardly picked up a book that's been sitting on my bookshelf collecting dust for six years (a book I "borrowed" from a friend back in high school) and starting reading it! A little book called "Slaughterhouse-Five" by Kurt Vonnegut.


For the past few days, including today, I've been lost in Vonnegut's world: I've laughed out loud, I've stopped to re-read paragraphs over and over again, and I've paused in awe and wonder, savouring each delicious word, each scrumptious phrase, each brilliant thought. I've paused in awe and wonder at his sheer brilliance.

I love that great books have a way of finding me when I least expect it. And even though I'm very thankful, the timing I gotta say pretty much sucks cos Vonnegut has officially put my pathetic attempt at novel-writing to shame.

'Tis the season (or at least, it's supposed to be)

Yesterday I finally got a chance to finish up my "overseas" Christmas shopping seeing as it was the first weekend since getting paid for my summer research (finally). Even though it was Graduation weekend, which meant it would be crazy in town filled with '08 Graduates and their families, and not to mention the first weekend of December, I forced myself to head into town because I knew overseas posting deadlines were fast approaching.

And as I was standing in line with mums and dads and their shopping carts filled with toys, chocolates, and Christmas decorations, I found my mind was, on the contrary, largely preoccupied with the different pairs of heels I had tried on half an hour ago...

Now, why I bring this up is lately it's dawned on me that I think I've lost my Christmas Spirit. Let me clarify. I don't mean that I've become all Grinch-y at heart or that I no longer appreciate the season of love and joy and selfless giving. But I think somewhere between moving from the States, with their hot apple cider, brilliant Christmas lights and that uniquely American Christmas atmosphere, back home to New Zealand where the magical possibility of a Winter Wonderland isn't really... possible, in addition to not having any extended family around has contributed to this seriously nonchalant feeling I now seem to have toward Christmas and the Holiday Season.

I don't have neices or nephews to bake Christmas cookies with, or aunties and cousins to cook with; most friends are away, back home for the summer vacation or travelling overseas; and now that even my immediate family won't be together for Christmas this year (with Kirsty living up in Auckland and all), it seems that much less... distinct.

And curiously enough, I'm not sad about it. That's the other thing. You'd think it would bother me, but it doesn't. We're not putting up our Christmas tree, or even exchanging presents -- at least, not in the wrapped-and-under-the-Tree-until-Christmas-morning kind of way. And you'd think it would bother me. But it really doesn't. I've always been the kind of person who every year fantacises about and dreams of trying to recreate a Christmas from "Brothers and Sisters." But at least for now, this year, I'm really... not.

When did that happen?

come on, show me your vein... pleeeeeeeease?

It's official.

I now have an 80% success rate for taking blood.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (<-- Scream of joy)

So taking blood is essential skill numero uno as a junior doctor. Sure, 50-year-old qualified specialist consultants suck at taking blood because they haven't been asked to for yonks. But if you're a junior doctor/recent med school graduate on night duty alone? Well, that's kind of what you get paid for, you know?

Hands-on skills have never been my strong point. I always joke that the only things my hands were good at were writing and typing. Other than that, they're pretty damn useless. And it never worried me - I put it down to fact that my mum never let me learn an instrument or have any hands-on/crafty hobbies growing up which would develop the areas of my brain used for fine motor skills. But at the same time I had never planned on having a career requiring any degree of fine motor skills.

Even when I got into med school I told myself that doctors have a reputation for being pretty crap at taking blood so I wouldn't have to worry about it much -- isn't that why hospitals have dedicated people otherwise known as phlebotomists trained to do just that, all day every day?

But from being on the wards this year I've realised (initially to my dismay) that learning to take blood off patients, and take blood well, is not only unavoidable but essential.

So now the dilemma -- how the heck do I stop sucking at taking blood?

Throughout year we've had chances to take blood off patients on the ward, but they've been few and far between. And even when the chance arises, you have to then fight it out amongst classmates in your group to see who gets to do it. And because the opportunities are so sporadic you can't really improve; at least, not by doing it once every... at best, three months!

Some med students worry about it excessively even though they're actually pretty good. Others just seem to breeze in and breeze out, successful every time without a care in the world. Me? I'm not one to worry about stuff like that cos I know what my strengths are and vice versa, but that doesn't change the fact that I just plain suck -- and particularly sucking at using Vacutainers, much preferring the syringe or even the much more expensive butterflies (not a good habit at all!) both of which has instant flashback so you can SEE whether you're in the vein or not, instead of leaving it to FEEL as is the case with Vacutainers.

VS


So one of the upsides of my summer research project/study is that the patients we recruit have to come in for three appointments during a four month period, each time needing a blood test. The first round of appointments began yesterday when I saw seven patients. Now I've been telling myself that this would be a prime opportunity to improve my oh-so-sucky blood drawing skills, and what's more, to challenge myself to get out of the habit of using syringes and butterflies.

Taking blood from the first couple of patients yesterday didn't go too well: the first lady I had one attempt but wimped out and sent her down to the hospital phlebotomists, and the second was pretty obese thus difficult to see/feel any veins in her arms so I didn't even try. But then I got the next one with the first attempt; and then the next; and then all the rest for the day!

It's amazing that after just ONE DAY of taking blood from patients throughout the day, I went from having no faith in my abilities whatsoever and having an emotional allergy to Vacutainers, to just sliding the needle in and sliding it out WITH actual blood in the actual tube! Not to mention I went from a (what must have been!) less than 20% success rate to 70%. And today (Day 2) I saw 11 patients in total (half an hour appointments each!) and my success rate improve another 10%! But the best part of it all has been that I now really enjoy taking blood - it's incredibly fun once you get the hang of it, and very satisfying. Strange, I know, but true nonetheless.

I definitely think doing them one after another in a given day helps so much; you really can't improve at something if you're only doing it once every few months! It's just such a relief to have this checked off my "achieve-before-graduation" to-do list, which will make life for Future Dr Anna much easier when she's on-call alone on the ward at midnight.

You're welcome Future Anna!

"Are you currently taking thyroxine tablets?"

With my ethics approval finalised and all the necessary paperwork DONE, it's been so awesome finally beginning to recruit patients for my study. And at the same time I can't believe just how much work it is!! I'm starting to think it was a bit ambitious to think I could put together a clinical trial as a summer project. Although, I have a sneaky suspicion that my supervisor knew it would stretch me a bit but he wanted to see how I'd manage (in a good way, if that makes sense). I've definitely been thrown in to the deep end, and the thing about situations like these is that you can't really tell whether you're floating or sinking at the time of. I mean, I hope I'm doing well, but who really knows, huh?

It's been fun though. In saying that, I did go a little mad today having the exact same phone conversation about fifty times, knowing exactly what they'll say next, and even when they would chuckle.

The response to our two newspaper advertisements asking for volunteers has been great thus far. I really can't believe how normal people living their lives out in the community are willing to give up their time to help us in our research. There's been quite a bit of interest in what our study results will be too, which is great.

This level of work for this summer research seems to come in waves: two weeks HOLY-CRAP-I'M-GONNA-DIE-AND-THEN-FALL-ASLEEP-AT-MY-DESK-I'M-SO-BUSY followed by HOLY-CRAP-I'M-SO-BORED-I-CAN'T-BELIEVE-I'M-RELYING-THIS-MUCH-ON-YOUTUBE-TO-FILL-THE-TIME.

The other upside? I FINALLY get paid Thursday. FINALLY!!!!!!!

darn you, global economic crisis!

As a student with absolutely no money and just mounting debt with each year that passes, all this talk of failing economies and possible recessions hasn't seemed to affect me all too much; even as a consumer to be perfectly honest it's gone largely unnoticed. That is, until last night.

In between dinner and a movie with a friend we stopped by Starbucks where, much to my dismay, my trusty Cafe Americano was no longer $3.60! Apparently they raised the prices just that afternoon, reflecting, in particular, the current demise of the US dollar. I know monetarily it's "just" 20cents, but it goes a huge way psychologically: $3.60 would round down in my head to $3.50 which would round down even further to $3.00, and $3.00 for a coffee isn't that bad; unfortunately, there's no way of rounding $3.80 any way but up, and well, $4.00 for a coffee seems to make me feel somewhat guilty.

Shoot. I knew I had some sort of backwards investment in the US Economy, postgraduate study plans aside.

The frustrating thing about it is that I know when the US economy eventually does turn around Starbucks won't be lowering prices accordingly. Darn you, places that sell deliciously addictive stimulants for outrageously high prices! Darn you, American upbringing that got me hooked to said addictive stimulants! Darn you, global economic crisis for making me think about all this waaaaaaay too much!

Darien, you'll always have my heart

Rachel, my trainer, took me for a 6km+ run today along this absolutely gorgeous running track following the Peninsula (in the direction toward Port Chalmers). It was already 15C (59F) at 8am when we started, which is pretty freakin' warm for Dunedin! I love the idea of running outside but because of all the extra variables that factor in, it's so much harder for me than running on a treadmill indoors where the environment, the speed, the slope, etc remain perfectly constant. Rachel's great though, just who I need; I'm excited to go back to the track tomorrow (if it's not raining that is). Next on the to-do list: find a running buddy!

On another completely different note, because I'm still waiting for my first chunk of research money to come through and thus literally only have $40 in my bank account right now, I've been seriously economizing for the first time... ever? and I'm in awe of some of the cheaper alternatives I've started to utilise in place of my usual spending++. For example, making lunch everyday with whatever is in the fridge instead of not planning ahead and just buying something while I'm in town. Cooking at lunchtime is actually quite satisfying and fun because what I end up making is totally mood-dependent. Also, I have discovered -- drumroll please! --YouTube in lieu of my traditional TV-series-on-dvd "habit." It's surprising how many full-length episodes of my favourite TV shows are actually on there, legality arguments aside, some of which aren't even out here in NZ yet. And on a whim/for old times sake I looked up SailorMoon, the cartoon of my childhood, through which I not only learned the essential life lessons of right vs wrong, good vs evil, studying hard vs not studying hard (SailorMercury was my role model, sassy and smart), but most of all, MOST OF ALL, the TV show which introduced me to my first love-of-my-life: Tuxedo Mask.

I can't believe my heart still skips a beat when I see him: gloriously tall, dark hair, dark eyes, kind face, sarcastic humour, smart and protective... *sigh*

Please Universe, no knight in shining amour for me -- just Tuxedo Mask, cape and all.

something HAS to change...

NZPA Thursday, 31 January 2008

300 doctors leave for Aussie each year

Nearly 300 New Zealand doctors a year move to Australia, the New Zealand Resident Doctors' Association (NZRDA) says. NZRDA general secretary Deborah Powell said 279 doctors left in 2006 and 253 in 2005 and those figures did not include New Zealand doctors working temporarily in Australia so was "the tip of the iceberg".

"Because New Zealand graduates approximately 300 doctors a year, these statistics suggest that we are exporting as many as we are qualifying," Dr Powell said. "We are obviously not offering suitable remuneration to keep doctors here and what is being offered in Australia is too attractive for our young doctors, with big student debts, to ignore."

Dr Powell said a fifth year registrar in New South Wales earned around $NZ102,800 a year, while the same registrar would earn just $66,200 in New Zealand. She said New Zealand needed to offer better pay and conditions to ensure doctors who were trained and registered in New Zealand stayed here. "Otherwise all we are doing is funding our university system for no net gain to anyone but the Australian health system.... It has become glaringly obvious that we are training our doctors for the Australian market and that's not right for kiwi hospitals, patients and the economy."

"oh, the places you'll go!"

Recently I keep thinking about the guys and gals I met who were a year ahead of me when I first started med school, and how those people have now entered into their last year of study, preparing for graduation and thinking of applying for jobs... which means very soon it'll be my turn; very, very soon. It's pretty darn exciting when I think about it. Of course, there's the whole issue of passing finals, but that's for Future Anna to deal with. For now I will enjoy anticipating the anticipation that is to come.

you had me at "giant marshmallow"

So I try to make it to the gym at least once or twice a week during the year which sounds pretty pathetic but I tell myself it's better than not going at all. And when I do make it, the main thing I like to do is run for a couple miles. My last year of high school I used to go for a 10-15minute run almost every morning which I loved doing. Since starting med school however that has become almost impossible. Plus, I am no longer close to fit enough to enjoy going for a run around my extensively hill-y neighbourhood. So I've decided to invest the time (and the money) this summer getting to a place where I was physically fit enough to easily be able to go for an hour long run three times a week during the school year. I emphasize "easily" because I know as the year progresses I won't have the mental reserve to push myself to actually do it unless I really enjoy myself.

I met with an endurance-running trainer at my gym last Monday who is a.) awesome and b.) super excited to help me with the whole forming an addiction to running thing which is great! In the very least she's enthusiastic which I always appreciate. The first thing she said to me after I told her I currently can't seem to run for more than 20minutes in my Nikes before my feet start to hurt was INVEST IN A NEW PAIR OF RUNNING SHOES. If I want to be able to run 8kms+ I need the shoes.

So off to Frontrunner I went, not really knowing anything about running shoes except that they were almost always white in colour and pretty pricey. The guy who worked there was really helpful and as soon as I told him my story and showed him my Nikes he asked if I got blisters more on one foot than the other -- yeeeeessssss. He got me to jump on the treadmill and run for half a minute and then I watched the video of my running gait which was incredible! I always knew I had some sort of issue with my gait cos my heels wear out unevenly and I did tend to get blisters more on my right foot than left. And now I know why! On heel-strike, my right foot just completely collapses into the midline so that my ankle is significantly out of alignment with my knee and hip. No wonder! It was crazy watching it and now it all makes sense.

He recommended a pair of shoes by Ascics which did NOT work out at all as both my arches were in serious pain after just five minutes. So I went back to the guy and he thought I should try an pair by Adidas (the AdiStar Cushion 6 W) -- now, I'm not a running-shoe expert, but apparently they do like studies and research into "shoe technology":

"Running shoe built for the neutral to under-pronator who requires an enhanced cushioning and extended durability. If you log serious miles, you ll appreciate this shoe s incredibly smooth ride and ForMotion stability. adiPRENE cushioning in the heel and NoSeam design add to you comfort. Air mesh upper for maximum ventilation. NoSeam-fit technology. GeoFit construction for anatomical fit and comfort. Molded Orthoclase antimicrobial moisture-wicking sockliner. Removable insole. adiPRENE insert in heel for comfort and shock absorption. adiPRENE+ in the forefoot and TORSION SYSTEM bar for midfoot arch protection. ForMotion for enhanced transition and responsiveness. Blown-rubber outsole for lightweight grip and cushion. QuickStrike for best lightweight durability and flexibility. This shoe weighs 10.3 oz."

If I had read this a week ago I would've been pretty darn skeptical and wondered why someone would pay so much money just for a pair of shoes. BUT -- after slipping them on oh-so-smoothly and then actually running in them, holy crap I am a BELIEVER.

It's almost indescribable, how amazing these shoes are. And yes, Kirsty will be shaking her head in disappointment that I am now "one of those" people but you just can't understand till you try. Everything they say about it is true, and then some. The only way to describe what it feels like running in these shoes is, it's like you're running on giant marshmallows that mold to your feet with incredible support.

I just LOVE these shoes... and true love lasts a lifetime.

it's summer vacation? really???

It's been just over a week since my summer vacation officially started and, like the eight weeks preceding it, it has been pretty much crazy. Some, like my sister and various other house surgeons/registras I've talked to, think I take on too much especially given this is our last summer vacation as students EVER. And sure it would have been nice to spend the three months travelling... or, just doing nothing, sitting on my butt at home. But travelling and my version of "doing nothing" both require a substantial amount of money, money I currently do not have. Hence, research, research research.

Surgery finished with a bang with tests up until the very last day of the year. The tests, and surgery run on the whole, went really well. In life, you definitely get out what you put in, and needless to say I worked harder on this run than any other time during my four years of medicine so far, and it was worth it. :) Plus, not to mention it was oodles of fun, albeit exhausting (that's probably why I found it so fun).

I had the weekend to recover, then on Monday I was back in my "office" finishing off the research project I've been doing voluntarily (i.e. unpaid grudge work) throughout the year for Prof MS who I worked with last summer. Because I actually got a research scholarship for ANOTHER completely different research project for this summer, I wanted to finish off the project with Prof MS as soon as possible. So for the first three days of summer vacation I was back in that 5x9 windowless room for 10hours a day... sitting in the dark... by myself... photographing cadavaric slices of the anal canal. LoL. But the 10hours a day paid off because I finished everything in three days, and not the eight I had initially set aside. It's kind of sad to be done, completely, because I absolutely love working with Prof MS and I have to admit I'm a little envious of the two summer research students he currently has. I mean, I know if I asked he would have given me preference to work with him again this summer, but I kind of wanted to work in a different area of medicine this time. And I found another incredible doctor (an endocrinologist, Associate Prof PM) who's got me setting up a neat clinical trial which I've never done before, so I'm excited. Yet, I still can't seem to shake this 75%sad-25%envious gut reaction I appear to be having lately. But I know it'll pass with time, especially once my new project gets going. (Yes I went a little insane applying for that ethics application during my last week of Surgery, but I have a bit of a break now before we start recruiting patients.)

So on Thursday (i.e. Day 4 of summer vacation) I flew up to Auckland for a long-weekend holiday to see Kirsty!!! And it was AWESOME. Since the first chunk of my research scholarship money doesn't come through till early December, I'm currently financially challenged so Kirsty just spoilt me throughout the entire weekend, paying for virtually EVERYTHING: shopping, meals out, Phantom of the Opera tickets, even bus tickets! (Kirsty took Thursday and Friday off work to hang out with me). On Thursday we went straight from the airport to one of the biggest malls in Auckland, shopping till about 6pm; dinner out at Wendy's (an Auckland/Queen Street tradition for us, lol); then later that night a friend of ours drove us to Mission Bay where we got gourmet ice-cream from Movenpick. Friday was breakfast on the Auckland Viaduct (another Auckland tradition for us!), followed by shopping on Queen Street which is where I discovered THE BEST STORE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD: Kikki.K Stationary and Gifts. It was HEAVEN. I spent so long in there absorbing it all in, and looking at every single thing they had (and yes, my credit card eventually came out, but it was SO worth it). Dinner Friday night was at a family friend's (basically our surrogate kiwi grandparents), where they always have the most scrumptious home cooked meals. Saturday was breakfast at Cafe Bliss out in Ponsonby where they had the most gorgeous Blueberry Pancakes; then a bit more shopping on Queen Street before heading to the Civic Theatre for an afternoon showing of The Phantom of the Opera. The show was great, the singing much better than the movie, and our Phantom of the Opera cocktails were surprisingly good. LoL THEN, THEN, dinner at hands-down my favourite restaurant of all time, an Italian restaurant called Gina's. Yes, the food was very good, BUT they are unofficially known for their just-as-delicious Italian waiters who were all not only gooooooooooorrrrrgeous, but lovely too. At least, ours was. I won't go into detail, but suffice it to say it was a seriously memorable night. I was pretty tired after all that, but some of our friends insisted on going out for the night, and so out we went: John Key won the NZ elections; Jack was there (unfortunately); we made it into The Waterfront, where VIP stamps were inadvertently acquired, and there was a lot of looking silly like a rhythm-less potato on my part; followed by kebabs at 4am... then home. Although I had a great time, I really don't understand how some people can go out like that every week; at the end of the day, it's just not really my thing I think. Given our late "night" on Saturday, Kirsty and I spent all of Sunday in bed. I think we got up around 11am to eat something... then fell back asleep. Eventually I packed, and I was back at the airport by the evening.

It was a great trip -- pretty crazy -- and when I go back at the end of December it'll be a completely different kind of trip as Kirsty will be working, I'll actually have some money, and all the craziness won't be condensed into four short days but rather spread out throughout the two weeks. I love Kirsty's studio apartment, and surprisingly, I am increasingly loving big-city living. I think the combination of visiting Seattle in April, Kirsty moving to Auckland, and this being my sixth year** of living in Dunedin has got me itching to live in a BIG CITY once again. Hence my post-graduation plans are slowly coming together in a very different direction than I initially had, but it's exciting.


Summer's gonna go by so quickly, I just know it. But for now, I'm going to enjoy sleeping in and not worrying about medicine. For now, I'm going to enjoy going for a run everyday, making myself lunch, watching TV whenever, and just... being on vacation.


**To put into context, I've never lived longer than six years in one city in my life; it appears six years is kind of the limit for our family before we start itching to move once again. Funny how that happens. My life seems to be in four to six years chunks: six in Korea, six in Auckland, four in Seattle, and now six in Dunedin -- but it'll be eight by the time I graduate, making it the longest I've ever been in one place... *sigh*... I'm ready for a change.

Afterthought: To make it official (hardly surprisingly) I was stoked at the results of the US Elections. And what was cooler was that I was on the phone with a friend of mine from the States when CNN announced Barack Obama as President-elect. Serious goosebumps (the good kind).

the Crazy 88

This past week has been one of purely survival. Survival and checklists. Survival, checklists and drowning in paperwork. But I guess the fact that I am alive to tell the tale speaks for itself.

Unexpectedly, however, an incredible end to the week, because what better way to spend your Friday morning than assisting in a bilateral mastectomy. And when I say "assisting" this was one of those rare times when I was actually assisting! Just me and the surgeon -- no registra, no other students -- and it was beyond amazing. And the icing on the cake? The spritzing of arterial blood, Quentin Tarantino style (albeit on a much, much smaller scale)! My fourth year surgical experience is now complete. :)

insanity

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't." --William Shakespeare's Hamlet


[50-page ethics application + sleep deprivation + looming deadlines = INSANITY]

my uber sexy weekend: the adventures of applying for ethical approval

I cannot believe just how productive I've been this weekend, making major progress with both my Surgical case write-up AND my summer research project ethics application -- a real achievement; utter satisfaction.

A lot of supervisors do the ethics applications themselves (or it has already been done!) for summer research students, but right from the get-go my supervisor has been focusing on my learning as much as possible regarding setting up and carrying out a clinical research study, which has been awesome for me.

Just with this kazillion page ethics application alone I've learnt heaps already! LoL Most important of which is not to be intimidated by a kazillion page application "form" cos most of the questions probably aren't applicable.

While I fully acknowledge and appreciate the need and the importance of an ethics committee (having a sideline interest in bioethics and the like), the whole concept of a group of people deeming a project as "ethical" verses "unethical" remains not laughable per se, but "chuckle-able." What I mean is, as per the argument of many of my classmates who adamantly voice their opinion of against the need for such a process, you'd think most of it was common sense. LoL


From the Guidelines for the National Ethical Application Form:

" In the context of research, the ethical issue of payment (in money or kind) or reward for carrying out the project – including any payment (in money or kind) or reward for recruiting participants – is generally reviewed under three main categories:
i) payment (in money or kind) or reward received by research investigators, host departments, or host institutions;
ii) payment (in money or kind) or reward received by participants recruited into studies; or
iii) payment (in money or kind) or reward received by individuals/organisations who recruit participants into studies but who are not involved in the research as research investigators.

Note:
- that (i) raises ethical concerns that require closer scrutiny by an accredited ethics committee;
- that (ii) raises issues requiring review by an accredited ethics committee into whether or not any payment (in money or kind) or reward, or benefit of any sort, offered to any participant constitutes undue inducement; and
- that (iii) raises concerns that are generally considered unethical."


But like I said, the process remains undeniably important. Just look back at the history of medical experimentation! Plus, those classmates highlighted above probably (a.) will never do research, ever, and/or (b.) are more likely to potentially make the headlines, if you get what I mean.

The Scrambler (aka Life?)

I remember as a kid I went on a carnival ride which I utterly hated but loved at the same time. These carriages would spin and fly around erratically, each on a seemingly different axis, creating the illusion that you were about to crash into another carriage at very high speeds. Yet at the last possible minute you're flung into another completely different path. I loved how it was so erratic, unpredictable, and yet, in the end, we were all connected.

I often think back to that ride and as strange as it might sound, it reminds me of... life. How surprising, erratic, unpredictable it can be. How we're constantly flung into one path or another, into the lives of this person and that person, and then we're off again! Into another completely direction... You can never predict where you'll go next or where you'll end up or with who, but ultimately, we're all connected.

We're all connected, and there's a certain kind of rhythm to it all, a certain kind of rhythm we're all intuitively dancing along to.

I spent two hours this morning volunteering to act as a patient for the surgical registras (=residents) sitting their Part 1 clinical examination, and for five minutes I entered the life of that person sitting their exam, this future surgeon. I was flung into their path, then five minutes later flung right back out. S/he and I spoke, interacted, touched... and then they headed back in one direction and I headed back in another. Our lives intersected for those few minutes. And probably never will again.

It's funny how that happens -- and constantly happening, every day. The ride may slow down more as you approach some carriages compared to others -- your lives may intersect for longer -- but in the end, you're off again.

Is there really more to it than that? Will two carriages ever meet, crash, and subsequently continue on together? Would it ever... stop? Will it ever slow down, and not eventually fling you back out in another direction? Is it worth holding your breath in anticipation? Or should you just not bother, assuming it will sooner or later, and so acting accordingly? Is there really more to it than that? Is there relaly more to it than The Scrambler?

I'm not sure what my point is to all this... Just thinking, I guess. Procrastinating from my essay, I guess.

But then again, it doesn't really matter. LoL.

... Or does it?

oh, zac, I love thee for thy...

I was yet again flicking through a magazine whilst spinning at the gym and was reading about the dressed men of '08, one of whom was Zac Efron... and as I looked at his picture I couldn't help but fantasize about... his huge-o veins, and the overwhelming desire, nay, this deep-seated, gut-wrenching NEED to attempt cannulating him.

Either I'm maturing as a person on the whole, or it really is true what they say: med students all start off as different kinds of pasta but we all come out as ravioli in the end.

Well, true, sans the inherent cynicism. :)

I would change the name of my blog if I could

Six weeks into my surgical run, and if I could add another item to my 10 Things I Love (the most) About Surgery it would be this: I love how you can never predict what your day will be like when you wake up in the morning. You never know what will happen, how it's gonna go, what you might see, what you might end up doing. The only thing you do know is that it'll be fast-paced (well, it is for me, but not all my classmates), and I LOVE it.

I really should re-name this blog, SURGERY ROCKS MY WORLD/LET ME WRITE YET ANOTHER BLOG ENTRY ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE SURGERY... etc. LoL.

Today was yet another one of those awesome unpredictable nonstop days.

Theoretical Schedule for the day:
8:00 - 9:00 --> Surgical Clinical Meeting (case presentation/etc.)
9:15 --> Team Ward Round
2:00 - 3:00 --> Tut with Mr X (one of my consultant= attending surgeons)

Didn't seem like a heck of a lot, almost ambiguous. So when I was heading to the hospital this morning I thought it'd be a good day to work on my surgical essay due Friday.

But like I said, you never know what your day will be like (if you make the most of it that is).

I was the only student on the Team Ward Round cos the other three in my group had various other things scheduled, and it ended within the hour, which was nice. Mr Y (my other consultant surgeon) then took us out for coffee, his shout! (Yuss!) He's such a lovely person, so sweet, so grandpa like! :) Then, at said coffee I found out that my house surgeon (=surgical intern/junior resident) was assigned to preadmit the paediatric surgical cases scheduled for this very afternoon. You see, our hospital doesn't have any paediatric surgeons so they fly one down every so often to do some/most of them. So I followed my house surgeon around, helped her preadmit a 20month old boy with an undescended testicle, and then, THEN --> wait for it, wait for it, WAIT FOR IT... I GOT TO SCRUB IN FOR THE SURGERY! And what's *EVEN* cooler, because this surgeon (Prof Z) wasn't from our hospital he didn't have any registras (=residents) assigned to him, so it was just ME, a fourth year medical student, assisting!!!!!

Holy crap, it was AWWWWWWWWWWWWWESOME. Like Whoa. Like indescribably so. Paediatric surgery, as heartwrenching as it may be sometimes, is amazing to watch because, quite like Plastics/Reconstructive Surgery it entails a lot of finesse. Delicate, precise, almost... beautiful work. Elegant.

After that case, Prof Z said I should stick around for the next two cases, but I knew the Trainee Intern/6th year med student would be coming to scrub in, so I left the OR. But on my way out I ran into said Trainee Intern who asked me to stop by Mr X's OR and let him know she couldn't make it to his surgery because she'd be scrubbing into this paed's case on at the same time. So I went to Mr X's OR, and surprise, surprise, his registra wasn't there, and no other students! Just a whole bunch of nurses and the anaesthetist. AND --> wait for it, WAIT FOR IT... IT WAS AN ABSCESS DRAINAGE! (Refer: The abscess that got away) And not just any ol' abscess, a HUGE BREAST ABSCESS! So I asked if I could scrub in, and he said, of course, and so I assisted! And have I mentioned it was an absolutely HUUUUUGGGGEEEE abscess? In the BREAST!? AND --> while we were draining the abscess the patient started moving around!!! Like moving her legs as if she was changing positions -- while under GENERAL ANAESTHETIC. It was pretty freaky to see, but the seasoned anaesthetist took care of it; what was even more interesting was that apparently this patient has a history of being "aware" while under General.

After the breast abscess surgery, I hopped back to see the end of the second paeds surgery, and then that was my day.

Another incredible, unpredictable, FUN, indescribably cool day in surgery. Is it just me that DOESN'T want summer vacation to come in three short weeks??!?

... okay, enough high speed rambling like the hypomanic person my classmates are trying to convince me I’ve become! …and on to this surgical essay I didn’t get a chance to work on at all today.

Wow

There was most definitely a feeling of "Wow, this year is really very nearly over" yesterday. We had our 4th year Practice OSCEs Saturday morning, which weren't a big deal at all because you pass the examination if you show up and just do it regardless of how good/bad you may be. Then later that night we had our end-of-year Class Dinner (with just three weeks of school left), which was great fun and at the same time left me with a twang of... wonderment. Is that the right word?

It seems as yet another year of med school slowly comes to an end I find myself having the (almost exact) same conversation with my med school friends yet again. An expected sense of deja vu, without so much the mysticism I guess.

I can't believe another year has come and gone. We're not just fourth years now... fourth year is over. After summer we'll be fifth years, studying for MEDICAL SCHOOL FINALS. Then we'll be Trainee Interns, and what an absolute adventure that'll be -- getting PAID, like actual money; being *somewhat* useful on the wards (hopefully); going overseas for three months for my elective.

Wonderment. I think it is the right word. Awe.

What's even more surprising is that even though so much has changed these four years, a part of me still feels like that second year med student standing outside the lecture theatre on Day 1, "99% excited 1% scared, or was it the other way around?" LoL Well, maybe that's a little too overkill, but I do think it's pretty freakin' amazing when I think of how far I've come in just four years, all that I've learnt (and continue to learn everyday), and how much not just me but my whole class has achieved in so short a time.

Wonderment... Definitely.

the abscess that got away

At nine o'clock this morning I found out there was a young lady in hospital for urgent incision and drainage of a significant abscess on her anterior chest wall.

During these four years of medical school, my relationship-interaction with abscesses have been largely a theoretical one. The all-elusive abscess, I often think to myself: talked about a lot, apparently very important (the age-old adage, "never let the sun go down on undrained pus," etc), but do they really exist (like, really, really?)? Much like, yes, I know man has walked on the moon, but has man really walked on the moon? Like, really, really?

So when I found out my surgical reg would be operating in an hour or so, I left my pager number with the Main Operating Theatre receptionist and eagerly waited.

But, alas, as is almost always the case, a couple hours turned into two, which turned into three. By the time I was paged it was half twelve.

ANY OTHER DAY I would have said, screw everything else, I'm adamant on seeing this abscess! And the surgical reg (really cool guy) probably would have thrown me a bone and let me do something, anything! Put in the local? Make the incision, maybe? And the ultimate dream of all fourth year med students on their surgical run?? SUTURE.

A lot of possibilities. A lot to look forward to.

Any other day... The thing is, I was speaking at Med Christian Fellowship today... at one. And I was excited to, as I always am. And I was hoping I could do both -- rush up to Theatre; see as much as possible; leave the operation at the last possible minute, even if that meant being a few minutes late to the meeting.

But... as is almost always the case, even once the patient was in the theatre waiting bay and ready, there was such a process to go through before the operation even started. By quarter to one the anaesthesiologist hadn't even seen the patient.

So I left.

Which was fine. But let me tell you, it was a hard moment. I know it shouldn't have been, and more than that, I know it should be a joy and a privilege getting a chance to talk to and encourage the preclinical med students (and it was! definitely!), but I'd be lying if I said it was an easy moment. Actually, in ALLLLL honesty, it was much tougher than it really should have been, which may have been a reflection of my gradually drifting from the 'narrow path' these past several days, if you get my gist. With on-call and being sick, etc., I haven't really been spending a lot of alone time with God lately, which is probably why the letting go of the abscess was just *that* much harder.

I just REALLY wanted to drain an abscess. Like, REALLY, REALLY. *sigh*

three week anniversary

Three weeks into my surgical run, and although the initial infatuation/mad crazy falling in love phase may gradually be coming to an end, it is being replaced by a more stable, consistent, deep-seated love.

I've reached a point where I don't really mind how many surgeries I see, or how well (or not so well) I might do relative to the others in my group (assessment wise), or what the surgical consultants think of me -- because I now have a quiet determination. It's not (as) hyperactive. It's not as loquacious. Or vivacious. And there is most definitely less PDA compared to maybe a week ago. But more, a sense of being truly comfortable with one another. I guess I've become pretty sure of my desire to get into a career of surgery, and with that I no longer feel like I have to prove myself... or moreover, "convince" myself that surgery is awesome. I know if I want it enough (which I do) and work hard enough (which I will) I'll get there. And I also know that what I do as a fourth year medical student on my surgical run, in reality, has very little bearing (if at all) on my future career as a surgeon.

So my head's not spinning off my body AS MUCH as it was two weeks ago. And I even had a pretty crap day today, in some respects. But, strangely enough, I don't seem to love surgery any less. :)

Actually, all this calming down is just further confirmation that this really is true love.

Now that I've had a taste of it, all other areas of medicine seems like... drudgery. Like actual... WORK. Anything that's not surgery doesn't seem to even register on my enjoyment scale. How funny.

Life really is full of surprises. I love it.

10 Things I Love [the most, cos there are oh so many!] About Surgery

1.) It's solution-orientated. There's something wrong and then you fix it. Inflammed appendix? We'll cut it out. Burn? Skin graft. Melanoma? Excise the cancerous tissue. Bowel obstruction? We'll un-obstruct it for you. And if we can't fix it, we refer you... to a physician. LoL. Either way, the patient is gone before you know it -- back home, or to a cardiologist/neurologist/geriatrician/gastroenterologist/oncologist/etc... Either way, our part is 100% satisfaction guaranteed.

2.) Most surgical patients are "Otherwise fit and healthy." Either it's an urgent, life-threatening condition (i.e. trauma; aortic dissection; etc) OR they're hunky dory except for [insert surgical condition here]. Hence a patient history and examination is, for the most part, pretty darn straightforward. Bottom line, they're not 89years old with a kazillion co-morbidities!

3.) It's fast-paced. There's always something to be doing; you eat when you can, drink when you can, sit down when you can... and every minute constantly varies cos you're always on the GO. I LOVE it. (Cos, really, who needs an hour for lunch everyday?? Maybe it's the American in me...)

4.) Surgeons are DIRECT. Some may think abrupt? Maybe abrasive? But I don't think that's the case at all. They say what needs to be said, nothing more, nothing less. They get straight to the point and then move forward. Man, it's refreshing; it just feels right. I'm home!

5.) Surgeons are good-looking (and, even better, mostly male). Even if they're not good-looking, they're still pretty darn good-looking if you know what I mean. Eye candy never hurts, is all I'm saying.

6.) Scrubs. Need I say more? Is there any other profession in which you can wear cute looking blue (what are basically) pyjamas all day while looking extra-respectable??? And those surgical caps? They are the shizzle.

7.) Scrubbing up. Getting yourself sterile for surgery is extraordinarily F-U-N. Standing over the sink, surgical mask and cap on, scrubbing your arms and hands, then holding them up in the boxing position to shake off all the excess water before slipping oh-so-smoothly into your sterile gown. THEN, to top it off, putting on sterile gloves without ever touching them??? Scrubbing up is an adventure in itself. I LOVE IT. I imagine it’s similar to how it'd feel to be a backup dancer for Chris Brown… or is that just me?

8.) Surgery itself is almost... transcendent. You forget everything around you and for however long you're in theatre your adrenaline's pumping, you're focused, and everything else around you... dissipates. It must be one of life's ultimate natural highs.

9.) I love being a student. And there is no other specialty that takes longer to train for than surgery. It'll take AT LEAST ten years... YUSS!

10.) It. Is. Challenging. It. Is. Rigorous. More than just performing the surgery itself, you have to know your stuff. And unlike a lot of other specialities in medicine, you can't BS. Because there are definitive right and wrong answers for most, if not all, things in surgery, the pressures on for you to have the former; you have to know it back to front. More than being in theatre or scrubbing up, the reason why I could see myself heading down this career path is, on the fourth day of the run one of the consultant surgeons (=attendings) were drilling -- and I mean, DRILLING HARD-CORE -- one of the surgical registras (=residents) who is currently preparing for his final exams. And they were doing it in front of us students to emulate in as far as possible the real thing -- an oral exam with an audience of surgeon examiners. And as I sat watching this registra sweating under the pressure, I suddenly had this overwhelming desire to BE him. Or rather, to be in his position. Unbelievable, I know, but for whatever reason, that's where I want to be in ten, fifteen years. I love being pushed. And surgery's where it all happens. I may not being jumping from helicopters onto snow mountains or cycling down a rugged cliff, but in my own way I think I too am a thrill seeker.

FYI

Oh, and I also saw the trapezius muscle in all it's "in situ" glory at the back of a patient's neck from which we were excising a lump.

(Okay, not "we" technically, but hey, I'm a member of the clinical team, riiiight??)

Because the lump extended so close to the superficial fascia, the latter was also removed, exposing the trapezius... and it looked JUST like the textbook diagrams. I know, shocking, right? I almost didn't believe it myself! I guess that disproves my theory that all the doctors in the world are conspiring secretly together and everything they teach is basically made up. Bummer. LoL

note to self: don't be so quick to laugh, ay?

Day 1 of my surgical run -- AWESOME. We have a great team of junior doctors and students under some really cool consultant surgeons, so it looks like it'll be an enjoyable four-week attachment. Just getting used to be on a hospital ward again and re-mastering the skill of trying to be useful whilst not getting in the way (too much) of the busy nurses! LoL Had a pretty busy day with a ward round to start, saw a couple patients mid-day, then finished off with an afternoon in the Day Surgery Unit which was again, AWESOME. I think I'm finally beginning to get used to watching admin of local anaesthetic (I only cringe about three times now, as opposed to the kazillion previously!), plus I learnt how to scrub in today which was oodles and oodles of FUN. The myriad of scenes from Grey's Anatomy where Burke and McDreamy are chatting to each other while scrubbing up kept flashing through my mind. Hehehe... Although...

Surgical Reg: "Learning how to scrub up can be a pretty tricky process at the start, but after you do it a thousand times it becomes like second nature. The three most common mistakes medical students make when they're first starting out are 1.) not putting on their masks before they scrub up, 2.) not laying out their sterile gloves beforehand, and 3.) touching/whacking something not sterile while putting on their gown."

Me: "Hahaha... yeah..."

Surgical Reg: "You laugh now, but just wait. I'm totally serious. It'll be one of those things."

And what happens an hour later when I've scrubbed up and putting on my sterile gown?? I knock my arm on the big ol' surgical lights... which aren't sterile.

Needless to say, the surgical reg had a good chuckle.

Nuts. LoL.

who's gonna type up all those patient report dictations?

I know House is just a TV show, but I really don't understand why Dr Cuddy -- who is Dean of Medicine at this HUGE, FANCY, University Hospital in New England -- doesn't even have a secretary. Actually, now that I think about it, none of the doctors on House seem to. Most specialists have, like, FIVE each. LoL

I want a PUPPPPPPY! (Sorry, Kirsty)

come rain or shine

All that stuff I said about sunshine and summer days? Yeah, didn't last long unfortunately! I can hear the rain peltering down outside as I type. Regardless, I had a great day at lunch with friends followed by some shopping. I love holidays... too bad it's already more than half over! :(

Although I loved the few gorgeous days we've had recently I will never ceased to be amazed at how cozy and lovely rainy days can make you feel... as long as you don't have to leave the house! Perfect watching-dvds-in-your-pyjamas weather!

Character Building 101

So one of the hardest things about still living at home -- actually, the only thing now that I think about it -- is the fact that a lot of the times the most insignificant and minute decisions become this BIG THING.

Example 1: Out of curiosity, mum calls me up from work and asks what I'm going to have for lunch today. I tell her I'll probably make myself a salad but there aren't any tomatoes in the fridge. I had been thinking if I still wanted to have a salad by lunch time I'd probably just drive down to the store by our place and get one. Cue (what felt like) a ten minute discussion on --> maybe she could get dad to stop by the store on his way from here/there/etc; she could call him and see what he thinks; could I have a salad without tomatoes in it; what other alternatives are there besides tomatoes; did I have any other errands to run while I was out and about anyways; maybe I could eat something else today and she could pick up some tomatoes on the way home from work... and so it goes.

[Note: in the end, I didn't even end up having a salad cos I couldn't be bothered to toss one together. LoL]

Example 2: I've been considering whether or not to change my cellphone provider from Telecom to Vodafone, mainly because I DESPISE texting with a vengeance and my subsequent right thenar muscle hypertrophy (i.e. abnormally bulky muscle below my right thumb). And the only good thing about Telecom is $10 texting, so I've almost decided to get on a Vodafone plan. Cue (what was LITERALLY) like an hour long discussion about said topic, beginning with me explaining to my parents how cellphone providers work, the difference between Telecom and Vodafone, what a plan on Vodafone would mean, how much it'd cost, different features, should Kirsty get on Vodafone too?, do we have to buy new phones?, what would we do with our old phones?, should dad get on Vodafone too?, does he really need to?, having said that do I really need to?, should I wait till next year?... and so it goes.

I love living at home; I don't regret it for a minute. First year I would have died if I had to live in a hall and do Health Sciences with what was at best passive-aggressive competition, at worst, frank blatant competition; second and third year, living at home and simultaneously working part-time meant I saved up enough money to go to Argentina and the UK respectively (worth it!); and now, being in clinicals and not having to worry about rent, flatmates, living in a freezing house, etc, and getting another student loan for living costs , etc is such a relief! But every once in a while, I really do want to pull my hair out. And now with Kirsty gone, I am very aware that all my parents' attention will be focused soley on me... I'm going to think of the next two years as Character Building. I've never been a very patient person, but I am determined to use this situation to change me for the better. LoL. At least that's what I'm gonna have to keep telling myself.

SPRING

A pinch and a punch for the first day of the month! (No returns!!)

Summer day nostalgia (Sorry, Kirsty)

Every once in a while I have a dream featuring the city, the people and my past experiences from Boston '04, normally followed by a period of nostalgia (the good type).

Needless to say, I am currently feeling a wee bit nostalgic; further exacerbated by the absolutely gorgeous spring days we've been having this week, a precursor to the summer months ahead which I am now looking forward to with brewing anticipation. Not to mention the fact that Kirsty is now officially living in Auckland and enjoying the generally much warmer temperatures c.f. Dunedin, of which I am daily reminded!

This year feels like it's basically OVER. On Friday I picked up my introductory booklets/papers/etc for Surgery and I have to admit, I am OFFICIALLY excited. Fourth year has thus far been a year of new, uniquely "medical school" experiences, and undoubtedly, Theatre will be no different. And the icing on the cake? The surgeons I've been attached to. :)

The scary thing is (again, in a good way) I know Surgery will be over before I know it, and subsequently, this year. And as I look toward summer, I'm acutely aware of the fact that I am one year closer to the end of med school, one year closer to graduation, one year closer... to being a doctor. Strange.

One last contributing factor to my summer day nostalgia? In exactly two years from now I will be starting my medical elective, heading off for three months of travel overseas to WHEREVER I WANT TO GO. Boston? New York? Washington D.C.? Seattle? Geneva? London? Oxford? Dublin? Prague? Santiago? Buenos Aires? Seirra Leone? Botswana? Zambia?

Med school is AWESOME.

P.S. Our magnolia tree has begun to blossom once again!

Currently (Re-)Reading: Without Reservations, Alice Steinbach
Currently Listening to: Cool and Collected, Miles Davis

What would YOU be if you weren't a doctor: "From OSCEs to Oscars"

It's great to be home again. Even though my time in Invercargill wasn't exactly a total hiatus from home seeing as how I managed to come home every weekend, there is no greater feeling than sleeping in your own (double!) bed.

After spending five weeks in Timaru back in May I wasn't looking forward to going on another rural-ish placement. But you know what? I had SUCH a great time in Invercargill, SURPRISINGLY SO. I think staying in the Doctors' Residence and there being so many other students around made the difference. The hospital experience in Timaru was great, but I felt so isolated, living in a house with just one other student, there being absolutely no one else around, and not coming home much at all during my time there. On the contrary, Invercargill was great fun! More like living in a dorm again.

And I know I totally lucked out in regards to who was down there with me. Nic, Jane and I had a blast, joking around all day but still studying/working pretty hard(!), and just totally "bonding." LoL. The six others from our class who were down there with us doing surgery or acute medicine were great too! And I had so much fun getting to know them better.

This past week in particular has been utter hilarity. Since we (Nic, Jane and I) had our psych written test last Friday, we didn't have much work to do and it felt like a mere formality going into the Mental Health Unit everyday (with not much to do!). Granted, we still had our Observed-Long Case on Wednesday but we even had fun with that -- on Tuesday night I embraced my natural acting chops and pretended to be a patient so that Nic could practice taking a history/MSE from me, aka "Mandie," the 24y/o Caucasian female who presented acutely with a two-week history of depressive symptoms, on top of a four year history of morphine dependence, who found out three weeks ago that she was pregnant and had to subsequently start on the methadone programme. LoL. Elaborate, I know, but a very detailed, well-crafted character loosely based on my experience that day at the methadone clinic in Gore! Man, but I had such a blast acting and I only cracked up laughing once during the hour -- when Nic asked me to "remember three objects and repeat them back to [him] -- queen, tennis, apple." (Oh, Kumar!) I may seriously consider quitting med school to audition for Shortland Street, because I am convince I can act better than 90% of the actors on that show, LoL. I told Becca this and she was like, "From OSCEs to Oscars." ...I like that! It'd make a good title for my autobiography, don't you think? Hehehe...

Last night the whole lot of us decided to drive down to Bluff (the southern-most tip of the South Island, 20min drive from Invercargill) for some seafood which I've been craving for a while now. When I suggested this little trip I envisaged us sitting in some waterfront restaurant eating lobster with a glass of Riesling. So with a list of three different restaurant possibilities we took two cars and drove down, and by the time we got there it must have been about half seven. Now, Bluff isn't a big town AT ALL, but we spent quite a while trying to find ANY restaurant at all, but failed miserably. We ended up at Sterling Point (the bottom most point in Bluff, two shakes from Stewart Island and ANTARCTICA!) and it was absolutely stunning. I've seen some clear star-studded nights in my life so far, but never have I seen the night sky as vast, as crisp, as clear, and as utterly breathtaking as it was last night at Sterling Point.

In the end, we found out that one of the restaurants had closed down completely a while back, and the other two were both closed for the night by the time we got there (what kind of restaurant closes before EIGHT?!? The ones in Bluff, obviously) and so we ended up going to this tiny fish'n'chip place for a totally Kiwiana feed! After ordering a feast of chips and (fresh! yummy!) fish, we pushed together a couple of the tables and that was that. Life is funny that way, with benign twists and turns every so often that keep you on your toes and make for great memories to laugh about later on.

It really is unbelievable how different my two experiences on placement this year have been. After Timaru I came back home tired, broken, and lost, emotionally and spiritually; after Invercargill, refreshed, clear-headed, full... joyful. That's all You, God; it's all You.


More reflections on my psychiatry run later, but for now just trying to spend as much time with Kirsty before she heads off Saturday morning. "Change is a-gonna come."

Currently Reading: Deuteronomy
Currently Listening To: Beth Rowley

...in this not-so-quiet place

So a lack of posts recently owing to the fact that sitting in the busy computer room of the doctor's residence isn't very conducive to much reflection, but a lot to write about eventually!

Just finishing up the last week of my psychiatry run down here in Invercargill (back for good next Wed), and looking forward to moving on to surgery soon. We have a test tomorrow (I haven't sat down at my desk to purely study in oh so long!) which I'm sure I'll pass but won't do fantastic in, but that's fine by me; and then an observed-long case with one of the consultant psychiatrists here sometime next week. All pretty low-stress -- sometimes it feels like psychiatry has consisted mostly of sitting around, drinking coffee, etc -- but surprisingly emotionally draining. That whole transference thing must be true!

I went for a walk a few days ago just before dinner and stumbled upon this beautiful estuary right behind the hospital grounds! Who knew, huh? And as the sun was setting, and as I was listening to my favourite praise mix, I just stood at the side of the road ENVELOPED by the perfect LIGHT of God, praising Him for how beautiful He truly is and how there is none like him.

... although I have to admit in the back of my mind I was a little paranoid about those unleashed Cujo-esque dogs I saw in the houses nearby.

Back home this weekend for the last time before the end of my run, and looking forward to spending my last weekend with Kirsty before she MOVES AWAY FOREVER AND EVER TO AUCKLAND!!!!