"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!!!!!!!