#idle blabla

[monkeymd-blog]

Moving: Variations on a Theme

I still can’t wrap my head around the course my life has taken in a single month.

Last week, I moved in with my roomate, whom I shall call Dolphin (I have absolutely no idea where this name came from but it’s a FB running gag between us). It was so stressful that I had one (1) panic attack at my parents’ house the night before th move was complete, a mostly sleepless night during my first night (I partially blame the traffic, to which I hadn’t yet completely gotten used), and bruises + calluses from dropping stuff on myself/lifting stuff/assembling stuff. To complete the ultimate clichéd moving adventure, my dad and I strapped our two-seater sofa onto the roof of the car and drove to my new place with it. A passerby at a red light even complimented our cording system (“it looks so professional!”).

Moving (and packing/unpacking/cleaning/arranging furniture) was one thing, but appartment life itself is so different from how I lived with my parents for 20+ years. For example, I have enough leftovers in the fridge to last me DAYS because I couldn’t (still can’t) figure out the proportion of food to cook for one instead of a 4-person family. There are a lot of chores around the house, most of which centers around the kitchen and laundry. A notable change is the amount of free time I have, because I don’t have wifi until the following week.

I’ve been going to ballet every week and since I moved, I’ve taken up running again at the nearby park. At my parents’ place, I’m usually the only regular runner -I’d be lucky to run into someone else exercising. At my place, however, there are SO many people running and biking- I feel like I finally fit in! A surprising challenge about running is where to keep your keys and money. But like a big girl I’ve finally figured it out!

My place is a bit threadbare (read: no decorations yet and a few pieces of furniture missing), but even little things added together makes moving VERY expensive. I bought a few frames for my room and for the living room, and that alone was around $60. My parents assure me that I need to get what I need, but wow, I never thought I’d be thankful for the smallest things like a clip because I don’t have to buy it. My first two runs to the grocery store were disasters for my bank. When I first moved in, I had basic basics my mum thought to buy me, which I shoved into the fridge. Then Dolphin came home with strange things like milk, bread, yogurt, sugar, and I went “oops I guess I’m having quinoa instead of toast for breakfast”. I ran to the grocery store the next day and realized how EXPENSIVE everything is, even bare essentials, when they’re added up.

I really like the location of my appartment (depite the fact that my room is facing a big big busy street full of traffic), because it’s central to pretty much everything. Grocery stores, cafés, parks, public transit… the only caveat is the time required to travel to my parents’ house on weekends. On my first Saturday morning away, I had to walk from the metro to my parents’ house because the next bus was 32 minutes away. With my big MD backpack, I felt like a weary traveller back home from a trip around the world.

Coming back to live at my parents’ house was as indescribably bizarre as leaving it to live by myself in an appartment. You’d think that, after 20+ years with the same people, it would be like riding a bicycle and nothing would’ve changed (especially since I had only been gone for less than a week). Somethings did indeed not change, like how my mum nagged me incessantly about eating more and sleeping early, or how my brother yapped at me non-stop about Pokemons and computer games. The bulk of the change was, I think, my perception of life at home. I appreciate my parents and what they do at home and for me a lot more, now that I have to do all the cooking and cleaning and laundry myself.

I still haven’t really settled into this new life and come to terms with the fact that I now essentially have two homes, but I’m confident that with time, I’ll figure it out.

[galadhremmin]

what's odd though is with how very obvious the text is being about the Dwarves not having independent life of their own before Illuvatar grants it, UNLESS you read Illuvatar as lying to Aulë about the Dwarves only moving when he made them move- is that I remember some university course I found* (*didn't take myself because not 'real world' subject blabla but I just read all the material by myself for fun, might miss some context) where the lecturer thought Aulë's transgression was actually succeeding in creating true sentient life, without mentioning anything about Illuvatar lying?

Which thinking about the Isaac Abraham thing going on in the story? I think actually might be a valid interpretation; God doesn't actually want human sacrifice, he's testing Abraham; the Dwarves aren't actually without independent being of their own, Illuvatar just tests Aulë's obedience and his intentions in case they are.

Anyway I don't think the lecture made that point at all (Illuvatar lying/testing) they just read the transgression as succeeding in true creation and Illuvatar observing the Dwarves already being truly alive because they beg for their lives.

Which is odd. Illuvatar tells Aulë the Dwarves do not have wills of their own ("For thou hast from me as a gift thy own being only, and no more; and therefore the creatures of thy hand and mind can live only by that being, moving when thou thinkest to move them, and if thy thought be elsewhere, standing idle") and only at the moment he accepts Aulë's apology do they become the 'children of his adoption' i.e. are given indepenent will- the text also uses the word 'now.'

"Thy offer I accepted even as it was made. Dost thou not see that these things have now a life of their own, and speak with their own voices? " Now. Not before-- it's not an observation, it's Illuvatar giving the Dwarves independent life the moment Aulë offers the Dwarves to him; "As a child to his father, I offer to thee these things, the work of the hands which thou hast made."

this is impossible to interpret as Aulë having succeeded in true creation unless you are also saying Illuvatar's initial words to him are a lie to test him.

Which is actually a very fun possible reading of the text!

In that case it would mean the Valar truly are capable of creating fully independent sentient life with souls of their own though, and that has... enormous implications. Probably not what Tolkien meant? Hm. Fun though.

So obvious I wrote that answer past 0:00 because I kept repeating sentences simply due to forgetting I already wrote them lmao.

[perfectionistincrisis]

3 random stuff about me 🙃

3 random stuff about me cause why not?😂 Ok soo:

1. Im scared of laughing. Like when you laugh all ‘hahaha’. Well normally its mostly with family cause i dont really talk much with other people f2f and dont talk at all on my phone. Talk as in communicate. Ok so when I laugh. I get scared Its cause my entire life i have witnessed this truth so clearly that nothing can stop me from not believing it. Well its true anyways so yeah! Its like our lives are a non-ending cycle of good moment and bad moments (ofcourse till death i mean). Like youre happy, then youre sad. Then youre happy! And then sad. And. It. Goes. On. So everytime im like talking to my parents or my bros & i laugh. Or maybe a friend and i laugh. I just get scared. Like, oh no, now something might make me sad real soon. Lol wow interesting yeah ik! Ok next

2. Um. Ok so its been like 1 week since im like sleeping on the ground. I put a bed sheet and then sleep um with my phone, charger, powerbank, waterbottle, vaseline and sometimes tissue box (no not for crying hahaaha. I dont plan n cry :p) oh sometimes sanitizer too Yeah weird again ik Oh so why i sleep on the ground is cause. Idk. Just like that.i mean my bed perfectly dine but like when i sleep down i feel more relaxed & & it feels likemy "territory" xD xD like this is my land *lion king feeling* Ok next.

3. Ahaa so todayyy i worked out and and im like a little tiny mini heavier than what i should be as planned so - i had umm. 1 and a half apples & almonds (didnt count how many:p), 2 cups of tea, & a piece of cake today :) Oh and and my meds. Infact i tell myself that i had to eat the cake because i needed to take my meds but idl if its entirely true xD maybe id have eaten the cake anyways xD lol but then i mean yeah. Whenever i eat something heavy specifically for my meds, i just have to forget taking my meds after that :):):) im that awesome :) But like im just eating less cause like i ate really good food like for two continuous days and i need to balance and also this week just started and inshaAllah good foods coming soon xD so just being prepared!

Oh and i just remembered a number 4 and i just HAVE to whine about it. Ik it says THREE but do i care :3:3:3? No Ok soooo

4. My belly fat. Omfg-OMFGGGG-omfg Like man, my tummy was never this fat. NEVER. like, i swear. Its like i did weigh the same before too as i do right now but like the fat distribution. Like. My tummy. Was. Never. This. Fat. Lile im actually having this entire new 1st time life experience of a fat tummy, its actually such a new experience thank god orelse id be so depressed all the time xD Lol but like all the 'patience- keep working-you dont see changes overnight-hang in there’ and all the blabla mainstream shit is like active in me right now so yeah. Patience 👌 hmph!

Ok bye.

[monkeymd-blog]

End of MS1: 40% MD and loading

(Has it been really 10 months since the last time I wrote in this blog?)

Warning: idle blabla ahead.

I’m still exhausted from this past month of craziness, and it’s been a week since I’ve officially gone on vacation.

Last Tuesday, I had my last exam (orthopaedics), which consisted of staring into the digital void (i.e. my computer screen) till the sun burnt out (i.e. for 3h+ in duration) over the course of 100+ exam questions, crafted by no less than 5 orthopaedic surgeons. And before this exam, I had spent over an entire week neck-deep in orthopaedics -I breathed and ate it till I embodied everything from Hill-Sachs to avascular necrosis of the hip, but honestly that could just be my poor posture. And the entirety of House of Cards season 5 marathon in bed.

Despite the atrocious experience of the final exam, I quite enjoyed orthopaedics as a block. I initially was apprehensive about it (like I was apprehensive about neuro), since musculoskeletal biomechanics and innervations are the bottom 3 of my expertise. However, my tutor, Dr S, made each chapter bearable -and dare I say- fun. My study group went to brunch with him at the end of the block, during which we learnt how incredible (chill, good-hearted, pleasant) a human he was outside of the clinician persona. I would be happy if I could become someone like him in a few decades: surgeon- but beyond that, family-centered, unjaded, and genuinely nice. 

Ok, maybe I’m already too cynic and snarky of a person to begin with, but hey, maybe one day I’ll get to teach a group of med students and they’d enjoy my dry dark snarky humour anyway.

And thus ended my MS1.

So, going back to the timeline -I spent the entire Wednesday following the orthopaedics final passed out in bed. Then, on Thursday, I caught up with a long-time friend, E, whom I’ve known since CEGEP and through uni. Isn’t it crazy that I feel like I’m an entirely different person from who I was 5 years ago, and somehow, friends still recognize me as me? Hell, I don’t recognize me from me (and this is a completely different self-reflection I’m gonna get into later). For about an hour in E’s company, I just thirstily soaked up all that I could learn from what she’s been up to since... 2015. Probably.

Every time I catch up with a friend I haven’t seen in a while, I feel like such a doofus, because they’re all graduated from school, are married/actually have a life and lead such interesting lives, whereas I... wake up in the mornin’ feelin’ like Sisyphus? Honestly. Just another day at school! Nothing to write home about. But I guess, like Albert Camus’s Sisyphus, I have to learn to let go of “should”s and “musts” to embrace whatever this universe decides to throw at me and grasp those fleeting, rare moments of clarity whenever it engineers them. 

My meet-up with E was such a moment. I’m not quite sure how I expected meeting friends from pre-med school would go, since I’ve ever only met up with Megan (who’s been front and center to my woes via iMessages circa 2012). But E and I clicked like we’ve never spent any time apart, which is crazy! Friends from my past that I’ve bumped into always have such stilted conversations with me, but luckily, this was not the case with E. In fact, barely 4 days later, we spent an afternoon together cringing about picking splinters out the butt (from an old wooden bench), and then sweating in a dance studio at the barre till our legs fell off from fatigue. 

I’m meeting with Megan tomorrow. The last time I saw her physically was literally half a year ago. We’ve FaceTimed and texted (she probably knows all of my daily comings and goings, from a fallen eyelash to my repeated tantrums about the sheer amount of exam material each block) but it’s still not the same thing. Isn’t that crazy as well? What else does physical proximity do to friendships that texts and FaceTime don’t? I’m flummoxed. I guess I still haven’t gotten over the fact that Megan’s not in school with me anymore. (Last year, in premed, I would sit in class and snicker at something the prof said, then turn to the side to share a witty joke with her only to realize where I was. Sad.)

Ok yes I miss people and human contact and I am secretly in affective deficiency which makes sense, since the only company I’ve had over the past week were my books and my own wretched handwriting. 

Whew. What a year. 

[monkeymd-blog]

Summer Research, Week 5

Early Monday, I welcomed my new co-intern into the office and set her up for basic training.

Long story short: she’s an MS2 who applied first to this research position while it was still open. I, tiny Jon Snow MS1, applied late, and Dr F/Dr M initially refused to take me on, to my great disappointment, since they had already taken on co-intern. But they decided that they could use another pair of hands on their team. Which is where I came in, and somehow out-competed a number of other med students for this spot (still not sure how this happened since I gave an awkwardly craptastic interview).

We spent Monday trotting from the office, to a conference, to the research centre, and back.

Dr F called the office on Tuesday afternoon asking for Dr M. Well, he left early, so he got me on the phone. To my utter surprise, my tongue did not tie itself in dead knots and so I managed to have an actual conversation with him.

At that exact same moment, somewhere in the world, a surprised farmer discovered that he is the proud new proprietor of flying pigs.

Anyways, Dr F told us that there was a lung transplant that night. Cookie and I decided to wait well into the night for the surgery, but in the end, it was cancelled. We were supremely disappointed -but imagine what kind of disappointment the recipient patient must feel at the news. 

We woke up to an early morning of experimentation with about 5 different physicians on Wednesday. I was tired from morning till the evening, and by the end of the day, I was falling asleep, drunk on fatigue. Cookie and I giggled for 10 minutes at the automated pipetting machine because it was called “Pipetboy”. 

I spent the next day reading papers on pulmonary ischemia-reperfusion injury and inputting Wednesday’s experimental data for subsequent analysis, while Cookie started working on The Databank. Yes, That Databank, on which I worked tirelessly for the las 3.5 weeks. 

I’m not quite sure why I’ve been so tired for the latter half of this week. My mind feels muddled and fuzzy. I can’t English, nor French; I even had trouble caffeinating myself this morning (made a huge mess because I missed the “stop pouring” signal). Frankly, there’s not a cell in my body motivated enough to drag me out for a run. Nada. 

There was no more OR this week (after the cancelled fiasco -poor patient who is still waiting). With the arrival of Cookie, I’m torn between my desire to share my exciting new experiences with her (the good sportswomanship way) and my desire to maniacally hog the OR and snarl miiiiiiine, my preciousssssss like a Gollum (just, with more hair and better posture). Obviously I’m scrubbing in with Cookie for the rest of the surgeries, because even though she has no interest at all in surgery, it’s important she still learn her gross anatomy. Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel a bit sad that I won’t be the only student in the OR anymore... because I’ve been spoiled rotten as a “single child” for too long. And, like a typical toddler who just learnt they’re going to have to share their parents’ affection with a new sibling: I don’t wanna.

Well, I’ll just have to suck it up. I’m technically only the 2nd intern, anyway; my love for surgery doesn’t entitle me to anything beyond what I’m paid to do!

[monkeymd-blog]

Summer Research, Week 2 (part 1/3)

I had an incredible end to my second week.

On Thursday night, I put together a little something for my best friend L., since it was her birthday last week and I hadn’t been around to wish her well. We met on a terrace in the Old Port downtown. We chilled and relaxed with a strawberry beverage (it got me tipsy about 5 sips in...). Nice music was blaring, and a gentle cool breeze was ruffling our hair. We bonded over past experiences -some shared, some not. Halfway through our evening, I realized how grateful I was to be right here, right now, when the stars could have misaligned just as easily. So, despite having slept 5h two days in a row, and despite having the sun in our faces, my evening with L. was pretty perfect. 

I had a scheduled date at Jean Talon market on Saturday with my friend C., who has recently come back from McMaster’s. I’ve known her since I was 11 years old, and to say I’ve missed her would be an understatement. We last saw each other on a rainy, miserable day in March -we had both been so exhausted and stressed by school work that we basically met at a cafe and wrote our respective essays over coffee. 

This time, over coffee, with no end-of-term looming over us this time, we caught up. Then we had amazing crêpes at the farmer’s market together. It’s funny, because I’ve been frequenting this market since I was 10, and I’ve always passed by this crêpes stand year after year, but it was the first time I deigned to try this place. 10/10 would recommend.

While we were waiting for our crêpes, I learnt C.’s middle name for the first time. I was utterly flabbergasted. How come I’m only learning that my childhood friend had a middle name 12 years after we met? Also, her middle name is the most confusing thing I have ever heard, but who am I to judge- my first name is not technically legal.

After the crêpes and the Very Confusing Middle Name Reveal™ (I’m never getting over this, I just know it), we walked around Little Italy and chilled at a park to people/puppy watch. We talked about everything, from friends, to careers, to the weirdly untalented theatre troop practicing nearby, to fried chicken. My morning with C. was pretty perfect too.

When I came home, I realized that my brother was sick -probably because of a viral infection. Poor kid: first, seasonal allergies. Then, a fever. It’s now Sunday, day #2 of his pyogenics show. I’ve basically spent the whole day cajoling him to eat, drink, sleep, take meds/vital signs (okay this must seem like I’m going overboard but it’s my brother). It sucks, because he’s spending his birthday dozing in a dizzying, feverish haze. I’ll make sure to bake him some of his favourite treats when he gets a good enough appetite.

[monkeymd-blog]

Summer Research, Week 2 (part 3/3)

...hooooly macaroni.

I came back from lunch and was intercepted by my project supervisor, Dr. M. Apparently, he met with the chair of thoracic surgery and director of my project, Dr. F., in the cafeteria. 

And apparently, they had lunch together (what?? surgeons eat?? I thought they just fed off each other’s fatigue). Dr. F apparently told Dr. M that it’s a shame he has yet to meet with me because he wants to get a number at which he can reach me when a lung transplant is underway.

Wait, what?

So this is when it sank in. The chair of thoracic surgery remembers me, wants to meet me, is talking about me, and now has my cell number. Because when they call and tell the hospital there’s an available lung for a patient of ours, I will be called into the OR. To witness the magic of lung transplantation. And maybe EVLP. Because that’s the point, isn’t it? My project to optimize EVLP is translational.

I’m still reeling.

I’m also slaying. (but mostly still reeling)

[monkeymd-blog]

Summer Research, Week 1 (part 1/2)

I don’t know what I was expecting.

No: against popular beliefs, I have never done proper research before. So I have no idea what it entails, and certainly not for a cutting-edge field such as clinical ex vivo lung perfusion. On Monday morning, I woke to a week-long charts-diving, Excel data entry, coffee, and nice cafeteria soup. Technically, the data bank wasn’t for my research project, but it was nice to learn the basics and get comfortable with raw clinical data up close. On my hunt for pertinent clinical data in patients’ charts, I learnt many things, most of which are practical, and some of which are belated realizations. 

First, doctors’ handwriting is abhorrent, with the exception of some occasional PGY-1 or 2. My eyes are still stinging from squinting at the computer screen. I swear to polish my handwriting and be considerate to my future readers.

Second, I have always hated Excel because it was complicated to use despite having taken 4 classes in high school in tech & logistics. Having been forced into using Excel this past week and being taught how to manipulate data on the fly by Dr M. (project coordinator), I’m happy to say that I’m much more comfortable with it. My mother was impressed when I used it to verify my tax returns over the weekend.

Third, waking up at 6AM every day is hard, especially after my month-long finals. It certainly doesn’t help when I’m also PMSing. I told my neuroendocrine signalling to chill out and give me a break, but I resigned myself to my fate early on. The idea of having to wake up even earlier for rounds as a clerk/resident/fellow/staff is both thrilling and terrifying. Bottom line: I need to stop wasting my time on social media and go to bed at 10PM.

(continued in Summer Research, week 1 part 2/2)

[monkeymd-blog]

End of FY-1: 20% MD and loading

Warning: idle blabla ahead.

I’m still exhausted from my end of term, and it’s been a whole week.

Last Thursday, I wrote my last final exam (lower limb and neuroanatomy). It was hell, and it was hard. I just spent the last 5 minutes detailing all the unfairness brought upon us by Dr. G in a huge paragraph that I just hit backspace on, because I really shouldn’t be complaining.

On Thursday night, I had my first med wine & cheese. I saw some of my profs in penguin suits and fancy cocktail dresses and it was so weird. Hum... it’s like they’re humans outside of being clinicians and profs or something (of course they are. Events like these remind me of how incredibly categorical I am). My friends and I spent 30% of the party checking out our psychiatry prof, who had on an insaaaaanely stylish dinner jacket with velvet embroidery. This is technically the first night I’ve been “out” (<-airquotes because the wine & cheese was in the great hall of the med building) and I really enjoyed it. Exams were over. For all intents and purposes, my first year was over-

-weeell, not quite. I had a final paper due for sociology of medicine on Monday. 

But let’s get back to the timeline. On Friday, my family had my cousin and her parents over. Since my bedroom looked like it had been the ground zero of a nuclear strike -perils of final exams- I got up at 6AM to clean it up, then moved on to the rest of the house. You’d think I was done, now welkommen to mi casa. From 10AM till night, all I did was cook cook cook cook cook cook and wash wash wash wash wash wash (sing this to Rihanna’s “Work”). All this to justify why I never had the time to sit down and write my sociology essay.

On Saturday, I crashed and basically slept the whole day. End of.

On Sunday, I met up with my best friend L. at our (okay, my) favourite coffee shop in Outremont. Because L. and I were salt & pepper, we talked more than typed up our essays. As a result, I only managed to write 1/3 of it, and promptly freaked out afterwards -because it was due on Monday night before 11:55PM, and I start my summer research position Monday till 4PM, and oh god, what if I don’t make it on time, and

Was it funny that I was stressing about an essay on a Sunday night, when my term had basically ended already? Probably. I still cried a little inside as I went to sleep at 11PM with 2/3 of my essay in a rough draft.

On Monday night, I finally submitted my essay (with 3h to spare! Hah! Take that, deadlines!) and downed half a bottle of white with my celebratory T-bone steak. My mum was impressed and confused as to why I did not get the Asian Rash. I told her it’s because I’ve been inducing my acetaldehyde dehydrogenase since the wine & cheese. 

And thus ended my fundamentals year 1.