The Sequel

This is the sequel to the strange story of how I came in contact with Medicine Royalty. I'm not going to reiterate the story here. If you don't know the story, go to: http://supersida.blogspot.com/2007/03/funny-thing-happened-other-day-youd.html for the prelude.

Following on from last time... I got home today, and I saw the bunch of mail on the dinner table. My mum waited until I'd gone through every single envelope and fallen down on the chair devoid of energy, before she casually mentioned that The Package had arrived and was in my room. OK, I know you're all just twitching with anticipation, so I will skip the bit about how excited I was, the speed at which I ran upstairs, the momentary confusion caused by my not finding it despite instructions from my mum, yelling from down stairs.

The Package held the following: a sheet of commemorative Australia Post stamps signed by both Nobel laureats, a "Les Prix Nobel" by Professor Marshall (signed with "Best Wishes to Sida"), a copy of a cartoon depicting the ingestion, and a note from M.

This week I'm studying Diabetes, and I'm also reading about the psychosocial effects of diabetes and chronic illness in general. (It's more interesting than I thought it would be - I will write about it some other time). So I'm feeling kind of guilty now. What are the psychosocial effects of fame? What are the psychosocial effects of generations of medical students learning about you? Of people writing in their blog that they think you're crazy? I flipped through the "Les Prix Nobel" (I'm yet to find out what that means), and it seems the decision wasn't that crazy after all. I feel really guilty now... One thing we learn - the pen is mighty, the mind may be weak, but a pen in a weak mind is still mighty. (Actually we already know this when we read some of the opinion articles in papers...)

I used to collect stamps, as a pre-teen, so when I looked at the stamps, I thought - wow, this trumps everything I've got. I've got to hand this down to my future generations... I will start my own family heirloom, my own family legend. They'd better appreciate this. I'm going to force the lot of them to study medicine - my sheet of stamps will not pass to a bunch of non-medicine-appreciative people... plus it's the only way I will have a family legend...

Somewhat embarrassingly, there is a rumour going around the 1st years that someone wrote a sycophantic article about Professor Marshall.

Funny thing happened the other day, you'd never believe it...

I was going to write about this after I finish my John Flynn Rural scholarship application, but I realised that, at the rate I'm going, I may never complete those selection questions. So I'm going to blog now, and do the "more important" things later.

So anyway, I refer to the entry I wrote about 2 weeks ago, on Professor Barry Marshall and peptic ulcer. http://supersida.blogspot.com/2007/03/if-i-ever-meet-dr-barry-marshall.html Basically in this entry I called Professor Marshall, the famous Nobel Prize laureate, insane. I never actually think that anyone ever reads my blog... I see the counter go up but it rises very slowly and I'd always thought that it was due to people coming across it by accident.

So imagine my surprse when I recieved a comment to that blog entry, which arrived to me via email. "Interesting article!" it said, "Please email M at xxx@helicobacter.com for more information."

I broke into a cold sweat on the spot. You can imagine my shock, horror, and fear. This woman obviously knew a lot about this subject. She was probably from information group, or research group, or support group, or something. I'd stirred up a bee's nest... Craaapp, I've put my real name on that thing. Crraapp, it's even got my photo on it. Sida, you stupid stupid girl. But it's ok! I'll just delete the whole blog! They'll never find me!

So anyway, I sent a short, tentative email back: "I can delete, or alter the post if you deem it inappropriate..." I was just short of saying: please don't sue me.

So anyway, M replied with (take a big breath...) "I am Assistant Manager of the Office of the Nobel Laureates – Professor Barry Marshall and Dr Robin Warren. Barry was pleased to read your blog and has asked me to contact you to get a mailing address as he would like me to send you a signed gift from him."

My first reaction was purely relief. I am not going to get sued. My parents can keep the family house. I do not have a black mark against my name. Then... "ARRRGHH! Barry Marshall read my blog! ARRGGHH! ARRGGHH! How embarrassing!!!"

So anyway, that pretty much concludes my tale. As suggested by a friend, I checked out www.helicobacter.com just to make sure the domain name exists, then replied with my address, with quivering fingers. M replied to thank me for supplying my address (thank ME?)... and to hope that I am going well with my studies, and hope that I enjoyed my H. pylori subject. I'd like to reply, but I'm not sure about the etiquette regarding these things. Does she expect a reply? Is it polite to flood the Assistant Manager of a nobel prize laureate with grateful emails? I decided not to. (But, if in case you are reading this, M... It's certainly more interesting than skin, immunology, or anorexia nervosa. I have already ruled out dermatology, immunology, and psychiatry...)

I told my friends, and the general consensus is that this is a great thing. I'm not so sure, though. Do I really want Barry Marshall reading about my strange misadventures? There is a lot of speculation about what the gift might be, too. Some (non-medicine) friend even joked that I should be careful when opening it, as it may contain a culture of bacteria. I jokingly suggested to a friend studying law that she should do the same about Justice Kirby... but she said that it had already been done.

If you're looking for the comment posted by M, you won't find it. At her request, I removed it to hide her email address. But this really did happen! I didn't make it up, nor did I dream it...

Ok, I'm going to get back to my John Flynn application form now. I would like to post an entry about what I think of selection questions posed mainly by large organisations, but since my blog is actually being read, I will simply say that I find them rather tedious. On that note, I am a hardworking, flexible, adaptable, proactive person, who would strive to be a significant contribution to rural communities...

(Sida's note: for the final chapter of this exciting trilogy, click here)

Corrections (and apologies)

In my post about Barry Marshall, I called him DOCTOR Barry Marshall. He's actually PROFESSOR Barry Marshall. Apologies to the Professor... (Actually I have a funny story about that, but I have promised myself to finish my John Flynn scholarship application tonight. Will regale my exciting tale some other time.)

My previous post, written last night, about the assumptions people make about me, was written when I was very tired and when I was in a very bad mood. You can probably tell this, both by the tone of the post as well as the horrendous spelling and grammar, and general poor style. Apologies to everyone who read it.

Top 5 assumptions not to make about me.

For those people who meet me for the first time... Just because I am an Asian and I am studying medicine, it does not mean:

1. That I am smart. Please don't assume I'm smart. And don't tell me I'm so smart because I do medicine. That is a fallacy.
2. That I work very hard, and put marks above all else.
3. That my parents made me do it, or I'm in it for the money, lifestyle, power, or guys. Or that I am in it because I'm Asian and it's one of those innate Asian things. I consider the sacrifices of doing medicine great that none of the perks forementioned are worth it (even the guys).
4. That I know everything.
5. That I know why your head/back/shoulders/joints/abdomen are achy these few days. Do not ask me why you're tired, or why you're sleeping more/less than usual. Know your own body, go to a doctor when necessary.

I met some people recently who I'm so sure thought that they knew me after just knowing what I study. It is very annoying, such that these days I only tell ppl that I'm a "student" and only say medicine if asksed.

Mint tea + lemon tea = EEEWWWW

Let me start from the beginning. Today, after church, I was approached by a friend who said that he needed a lift home. Sure, I said, I just need to go buy some tea (vital study-aid). So I run off to Woolworths.

Milk? Where do they keep the milk? Yogurt, I suppose I got to buy the yogurt too... Where on earth is the tea I usually buy? Why are there all these different types? Cookies-and-cream tea? Interesing... Lemon Twist? That sounds good. Oh, there it is, good old Lipton Green tea, packet of 50.

So, being acutely aware that someone is waiting for me, I grab what I see and run back to church to find that this friend's brother can drive him home after all. Ok, that's fine.

Until about 5 minutes ago, when I made some tea to keep myself awake (or to let my mind fool my body). I knew as soon as I opened the packet that it didn't smell right. Crap! It's green MINT tea! I can still remember the last time I had mint tea, it was at bible study and it was so gross the host poured it all out. And I bought 50 bags of it. Acutely aware that this tea cost money, and that money comes from working like a trained monkey every Saturday, I decided to make it anyway. Can't be that bad, right?

So here I am, watching my tea cool, smelling its tooth-paste-like odour. Then I had a flash of what I thought at the time was genius. The mint can be neutralised if I add something to it, right? Something with a stronger flavour. The first thing I saw as I looked around my desk was a packet of jelly beans. Don't be stupid, no one puts jelly beans in their tea. Then I saw the Lemon Twist, which I also bought...

Mint + lemon. How to describe it? In colour and texture, it is like any other tea. The smell is also not unique - it is the smell that wavers around the elderly and very ill patients in hospitals. The taste... sour, like the taste you would get if you ate an under-ripe berry. It resembles neither lemon, nor mint, nor tea, but seems to be an entirely new and newly offensive flavour. There is, inevitably, the after-taste of toothpaste. I had not disguised the toothpaste flavour, just added another dimension to it.

In fascination, ever the scientist, I drank the lot, wondering its effects on my body. Of course, it's just tea, I'm being fanciful, but you'd be too if you could smell and taste the thing.

Usually when I drink tea, my room smells like it, and it usually smells quite good... jasmine, or lemon, or just plain green tea. Today, my room smells like bed-ridden old people.

If there is one thing to be gained, this concoction will certainly wake me up. The question lies... what does one do with the other 49 tea bags?

"Should I tell them" by Shaun Groves

"Should I Tell Them" by Shaun Groves (from the album Invitation to Eavesdrop) is my current favourite song. I love the lyrics, even though it's not entirely applicable to me. The "What should I say to them? What if I'm failing them?" question is always on my mind when I communicate to others about my faith... and also, what if I'm failing Him? So when I do communicate to others about my faith, I am often, like the singer, just plain afraid. I feel like I am making a big speech, a speech that has a life-and-death effect.

On the other hand, I don't actually think that I am the perfect example of all He can do in a life.

Walking with you is not without hazards
Trippings this traveler's curse
Price paid for falling is more than my stumble
In a world that is watching and waiting for words

But I listened when You said to go
And I set out in spite of my fears
About truth mixed with my imperfection
And the question of what to say when I got here

And now that I'm here
Should I tell them that
You are the one who has made me
And saved me and set up a home there inside
Should I tell them that I am a perfect example
Of all You can do with a life.
What should I say to them? What if I'm failing them?
What should I tell them tonight?

Now don't get me wrong I'm thankful to be here
With this song to sing and a spotlight on me,
But lately I'm wondering if you are mistaken,
If you're seeing all of me there is to see.

Cause on every face I detect
The same questions I've posed to you
Like do you speak through the imperfect
Are we too dirty for your light to get through?
I want your light to get through.

What should I tell them when
They're thirsty Lord
My cup is empty Lord
Come and lead me here in this place
Cuz I'm honest, yeah, but I'm unprepared
And I'm just plain afraid

Lyrics copied and pasted from www.christianlyricsonline.com

If I ever meet Dr Barry Marshall...

Everyone knows what peptic ulcer is, right? (Actually right now I could write a whole essay on peptic ulcer, it being the case for this week). From memory, peptic ulcer had a small mention in the film Intolerable Cruelty. Basically it's an ulcer in the stomach or earlier part of small bowel, similar to the ones we get in our mouthes. As a disease, even the ancient egyptians had it.

In the early 1980's, a pathologist at the Royal Perth Hospital named Robin Warren noticed a bacteria found in the stomach of gastritis sufferers. This idea was considered outlandish, since everyone knows that the strong acid in the stomach means no bug could live there. Warren was soon joined by Marshall, who was looking for a research project. Together, the pair tried to culture (ie grow) the bug, but to no avail, until Easter came around. During the Easter break, there was a staffing shortage, and the culture was left for an unusually long time... and the bacteria grew. (Haha, love the Australian culture where everyone goes away during Easter and even the most important medical research is put aside...)

Once cultured, Marshall's job was to prove that these bacteria caused ulcers, which went against the commonly held notions of the time. In frustration, in 1984, he drank a culture of bacteria himself. Eventually, he became very sick, developing gastritis (which would have turned into ulcer if he left it). He then cured himself with antibiotics.

The road to gaining widespread recognition of the cause of ulcers was still a long one and it was 10 years before it was officially recognised, but his point has been made. And today, 20 years on, we at medical school are taught that H. pylori bacteria causes 70% of gastric ulcer and 90% of duodenal ulcer. Of course, it was a great discovery, as we can now treat ulcers such that there is a very low chance of recurrance. People's lives are improved. The need for surgery is lessened. Chances of complications reduced. Medicine at its best.

But, seriously, what kind of person drinks a culture of bacteria to see if he gets ill? My PBL tutor was working as a physiotherapist at the Royal Perth when this was going on, and she said everyone thought he was nuts. (Which is why he drank the culture, I guess.) Didn't anyone try stop him? ("There's got to be a better way!") And it would certainly have tasted awful.

Barry Marshall sounds quite insane. Which means, of course, if I'd ever met him, I would be too chicken to tell him I think he's insane. I would be reacting along the lines of - "Um, (giggle) um, um...big fan, read all about you. (nervous giggle) Um. Can I have a photo with you? Can I have your autograph? So... uh... uh... what did it taste like?"

Oh, and by the way, if you didn't know, Barry Marshall and Robin Warren won the Nobel Prize for medicine in 2005. According to my microbiology lecturer, Marshall had problems getting his research published because he didn't have ethics approval to test the culture on someone (ie himself).

(Sida's Note: to go to the sequel to this story, click here.)

Updates, I guess

I havn't written here for a while, but there isn't much to update on. Just hanging in here, trying to stay on top of it all, but failing miserably. Was going to write an entry about indigenous health before, but then realised that i really knew too little about the issue, and it's a lot more complex than I had ever imagined.

Agreed to a girl at church to do some 'service' on Sundays, on a whim. I agreed because I do enjoy to serve and because I hate to think that my studies interferre with my service to God. (Even though I know and He knows that it's already happened). It's going to be ok. God will provide.

Considering very very seriously a placement at the end of the year in a rural hospital. Don't have enough money to go overseas. Those two-doctor hospitals sound pretty cool, do lotsa cool things like suture and cannulate and intubate and deliver babies and get abused by drunken people who fall over and hit their heads.

Gave a friend some tips about the Gamsat today. She thanked me perfusely, and said she will try her best to follow my advice. crap. Obviously I hadn't put enough disclaimers in. Now I just hope she does well.

That's all for now. Helicobacter Pylori awaits me.