Totally awesome music maker thingy

I found this really totally awesome music maker thingy on the web - it's perfect if you're bored or if you have a few minutes free... it could occupy you for 5 minutes or 5 hours!

It's this music maker thing called inudge, instructions on the site, totally recommend you trying it, whether you are a music maestro or a maestro wanna-be (like me).

Here's the link, with one of my creations: click

Try it out, comment with the link to your own creation!

I'm on holidays now, horray!

I've had quotable quotes from the Surgery and Psychiatry rotations, but GP was mostly quite sane. I had a great time at the practice I was posted to; that's probably why I don't really have any snide comments to make. Actually, the practice probably deserves a separate blog post. That's for another day; right now I can't be bothered thinking about medicine-related things.

My brother all of a sudden showed interest in coming to church. I'm not actually all that sure why. Maybe he's older now and wants to meet more people; or maybe he might figure it's time to grow spiritually as well as mentally and physically. Already 11 years old and weighing in at 40-odd kilos, he has done plenty of growth in the latter two departments.

So last Sunday, while the church was reciting the Apostle's Creed, he suddenly said to me: "Who's Pontius Pilate?". So, I decided to teach my brother all about the bible. They say, in medicine, that if you can explain difficult medical concepts to a child, then you understand the concept well enough yourself. Well, I'm going to try teach my brother elementary theology... which is an amusing thought, because I'm not even sure if I understand all of it myself. But oh well, we'll see. Watch this space.

I was going to start with Genesis, go through the patriachs, then to Exodus, etc... but I suddenly thought, since it's nearing Christmas, we should learn about the Christmas story. A nice easy topic to get started with.

So on Sunday night my brother and I went through the first two chapters of Matthew and the first two chapters of Luke. We read one paragraph each, stopping every now and then so I could explain to him what words like "Christ", "Messiah", "Immanuel" meant. Then I told him about the social and political background of those times, and why everyone was waiting for a messiah. It took about an hour and a half, and I had his captive attention all this time. Quite impressive, quite exciting, and quite scary. It's like God giving me a blank book and I get to fill it out. I just pray I do it well... not only the teaching part of it, but also just setting a good example in everyday life.

Skip forward to Monday afternoon when he came home from school. I was half-reclining in a very uncomfortable position yet unable to move, because I was beating the boss stage of Space Invaders on my brother's Nintendo DS. The giant alien-thingy had turned from pure green to pewter, so I knew I was getting somewhere.

My brother came in and announced he won the backstroke race in his swimming carnival at school... and also mumbled something about his uniform, or something like that. (I lost track of what he was saying when the bastard evil space alien took my first life.)

Then he said, in a half embarrassed, half awkward tone: "Sida, I wanted to say something to you..."

"Ahuh." I said. He was probably going to ask me to buy him something that he knows I will say no to. The space alien somehow grew a shield and was shooting me with lasers.

"... I wanted to thank you..." he said, awkwardly.

"... yes...?" I said. I had figured out a way to penetrate the shield, but at the cost of one more life. My thumb was starting to feel a bit sore. Why do they make buttons so small on these things?

"... I wanted to thank you for teaching me the bible." He finished.

I was lost for words for a while, partly because I was surprised, partly because I wasn't sure what I should say now, and partly because my space ship had acquired a laser and the alient had turned red. I wondered whether I should make a big deal about what he said, or just take it lightly. I also wondered if the red meant the thing was about to die soon.

That decision was made for me when the space alien took another life. The bastard! I only had one more left!

"That's ok, honey, it's my pleasure, really. We'll do it again tonight." I said. "Die, you stupid thing! Arrgh!"

The alien took my last life. I shifted in a more comfortable position as the words "Game Over" flashed onto the screen. I peered at my brother, but he had finished all he was going to say on that topic. "I'm hot. Can I go for a swim before starting on my homework?" was the last thing he said before he turned away.

So much for setting a good example in everyday life. Oh well. I guess you can't make a big deal about some things.

Quotable quotes from psychiatry

I just finished my psychiatry term, my final psychiatry exam is tomorrow... therefore I should be cramming (and indeed I will continue cramming in a minute). But, here are some quotable quotes... watch this space, more will be added when I have time.

Patient: "You know, our planet is already destroyed, we are not living on Earth at the moment, we are living in the Australia planet. Earth was destroyed when the Germans put a nuclear bomb under the South pole."
Sida: "The bastards!"
Patient: "I'm part German, you know..."
Sida: "Oh, I'm sorry."
Patient: "Yes, I'm part German, part alien."

Patient (to Sida): "Excuse me, excuse me, can I buy some sushi off you?"

Patient (to an Asian psychiatrist): "Your tablets are turning me into a woman. Australians are not easily fooled, doctor!"

Sida: "Do you have any special abilities? Like, are you unique and different from everyone else in any way?"
Patient: "Well... do you trust me?"
Sida: "Uh... uh... yeah?"
Patient (stands up): "Stand up and I'll show you!"
Sida: "Uh, no thanks, no thanks!"

Patient: "Yes, I've been diagnosed with heaps of things. Schizophrenia... Bipolar... Psychosis... Mania... Crazy... Looney... Fruit-cake..."

Psychiatrist A: "In spite of the nature of our work, I don't think I've ever heard of a psychiatrist being killed by one of their patients."
Psychiatrist B: "Wasn't there a case in Perth a few years back?"
Psychiatrist A: "Well, the killer was another psychiatrist. Does that still count?" I'm thinking... get me out of here!

Patient: "No, I don't take drugs."
Nurse: "So, if I took your urine sample to the lab for a urine drug test, I wouldn't find anything?"
Patient: "Weelll... You will probably find it's positive for cannabis. But I can explain that..."

An acrostic

I had the idea to do this while reading the Psalms and noticing how many psalms are acrostics in Hebrew...

It was actually a lot harder than I thought.

An acrostic for the Lord
Acrostics feature heavily in the Bible,
But they can't be easy to write.
Creativity, vocabulary, and wit... none of which I possess.
David wrote them in Hebrew... I wonder if that makes it easier?
Enough meaningless banter, let's get down to some serious acrostics...

Father, let Your will be done
Great and mighty works, just as the days of old
Here on Earth, as it is in heaven
In my life, let Your will be done.

Journeying through my pilgrim, let Your light guide me,
Keep me on Your path, the straight and narrow that's so hard to find,
Let me know You walk with me, remind me when I forget
May my path and my journey bring glory to You,
Now and forever, every moment belongs to You.

Open my ears that I may hear Your words
Pry my eyes open that I may see Your will
Quieten my heart that I may feel You move
Rest my soul - because I know, You speak with breathless whispers...

Sometimes the darkness surrounds me,
There is nothing but silence.
Unveil the silence, the darkness and the emptiness
Vindicate me from the voices that condemn and accuse, and the
Whirlwinds of doubt, depression, and devastation - they will not wear me down.

(X is too hard, why do we even HAVE that letter anyway!)
You give me strength, purpose, life and liberty,
Zeal and passion, rest and peace.

Surgery: the rotation that was

It's been a while since my last blog post. My last post was on exhaustion... and I've been too busy (or indeed too exhausted) to blog since. Add that to the fact that I'm in 3rd year medicine... and what conclusion to you arrive at? Obviously I must be on the surgery rotation!

Well, I just finished my surgery exam on Friday, and let me tell you, it was a pain in the bum. In more ways than one, since somehow there was way too many questions on anal conditions. Those surgeons are really anal. Haha. Bad joke, but I couldn't resist...

My experience in surgery was coloured by the fact that my previous two rotations were not so cool (the less said of those rotations the better), and the fact that I had the added stress of resitting an exam I didn't pass from the previous rotation (I would like to say it wasn't my fault, but they all say that, don't they?). In surgery, amazingly, I found consultants who were willing and indeed seemed to enjoy teaching, registrars who were insanely busy but not too busy to spend a few hours a week teaching some students, and residents who treat you as one of their own. Best of all, was the fact that they all had that same sarcastic sense of humour as me. During my first few weeks I felt like I struck gold! Not only were the consultants kind and patient, they actually laughed at my jokes instead of allowing an awkward silence to fall.

So below is a sample collection of the quotable quotes from our interactions. I hope they bring a smile to your face, although I do fear that some of the jokes may be a little... subtle.
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Mum of a 12 year old: “He won’t listen to your advice, he still plays football despite his crook knee.”
Surgical registrar: “Well look, it’s up to you. I don’t mind if you play football, because then there is a high chance I’ll get to operate on you again, and I like operating on kids, it’s good practice. Shall I book you in for surgery now, or would you like to wait til after the game?”

Dr A: “So, Sida, as I am removing this thyroid, what am I trying to avoid taking out?”
Sida: “The… para… thyroid?”
Dr A: “That’s right, the parathyroid. What does the parathyroid gland do?”
Sida: “It… makes… para… thyroid… hormone?”
Dr A: “Yes… but what happens when we take out the parathyroid?”
Sida: “The patient wouldn’t have any parathyroid hormone?”

Dr A: "So, Sida, were you born in Australia?"
Sida: "No, I was born in China, then I lived in New Zealand for a while before moving to Gold Coast. All the shady places, in fact."
Dr A: "Haha... where did you live in New Zealand?"
Sida: "Northland"
Dr E: "I'm not aware of anything of note up there...?"
Sida: "That's fair enough, there probably isn't."

Nurse: “What size gloves do you wear? I'll get some for you.”
Sida: “Size 5 and a half, thanks very much.”
Dr B: “5 and a half! You can’t do orthopaedic surgery in size 5 and a half gloves! You need to learn to stuff your gloves and tell people you are a bigger size!”
Sida: “Is that what orthopaedic surgeons do?”

Sida: “Dr B, I’m rostered to join you in your surgery this afternoon.”
Dr B: “That’s fine. Just make sure you are nicely sterile when you come.”

Dr C: “I asked my resident after my surgery whether the surgery was the most fascinating intriguing satisfying thing she’d ever seen. She just flat out said no.”
Sida: “Do you think she didn’t pay enough credit to your awesomeness?”
Dr C: “What do YOU think, Sida?”
Sida: “Well, I think she was wrong. You should always sweet-talk your consultants, for one thing.”

Dr D: "Now that's what I call BBB - beaucratic bovine byproduct."

Dr D: "If you give him a plaster like that you will drive him to drink."

Dr D: "This sort of surgery is very difficult, very very difficult. This is something I would never attempt myself... I'd give it to my senior registrar." (As a background, the senior registrar is the highest level trainee under Dr D.)

Dr D on lawyers: "Have you heard the legal definition for the word 'reasonable'? A barrister explained to me while I was on the stand as a witness, and I told him it was illogical and circular reasoning. That bastard argued with me for half an hour about it, until the judge finally stepped in and told him: 'the Doctor is right, from a scientific perspective.' They are all nutters, the lot of them."

Dr E: "Doctor F, we have a medical student in our midst today. For the sake of the student, and for mine too, could you explain what you just said? "

Dr G: "Urology is interesting. It really is. Honestly. How do I convince you that urology is interesting?" Can't be done, I'm afraid.

Dr H: "Everyone is scared of us orthopedic surgeons. It's because orthopedics is hard, they don't know it, but we do, and they know we are cranky neurotic nutters. But you guys don't need to be scared, because it's all very simple..."

And the best quote of all:

"You know those elite athletes who win gold medals? They all say the biggest thing to conquer is yourself. The swimmer may be really tired at the last second, but he know he's got to push through, it's the last second that counts. Keep pushing, Sida, mummy believes in you." - my mum in response to her 22-year old daughter crying to her on the phone like a 5 year old.

Sida’s five stages of exhaustion

STAGE 1: Fatigue

This is usually sooner or later accompanied by hunger. Sida experiences an increasing awareness from her brain and muscles that the day has dragged far too long. If accompanied by hunger, Sida will repetitively say: “I’m hungry. Did I happen to mention I’m hungry?”

STAGE 2: Irritability

Sida progresses on to this stage if her body continues to be denied of physical rest and food. Signs of irritation are subtle in Sida, but usually manifests in the form of flat, dry sarcastic comments or jokes. The more irritated she is, the less sense her jokes and comments make. When Sida starts quoting Shakespeare (“Now is the winter of our discontent”, or “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…” ) it is time to evacuate the premises.

The length of time Sida spends on this stage depends on how the day went – if the day was a generally OK day, this stage does not last long.

STAGE 3: Delirium

Having felt tired and hungry for so long, Sida has come out the other side somewhat numb. She is chatty and giggly, but her chatter makes no sense, and no one can understand what she is giggling about. As she fights to keep her eyes open, some have likened this stage to being tipsy.

STAGE 4: Depression

Sida’s sense of justice wakes up and she can not believe that in this late hour she still can not go to bed (or, in some cases, still has not had the opportunity to eat dinner). Waves of self-pity and frustration crash upon this fragmenting irrational brain, and she will sob to herself quietly, lamenting the life she has chosen, and completely without the energy to actually get up and get some food and get into bed.

STAGE 5: Insomnia

Finally in bed, Sida tries to command her brain to switch off, but it punishes Sida for the overwork by refusing to obey. She is left lying there thinking about all the irrational things her brain wants her to process, ruminating all the decisions she made, and regretting that last cup of coffee.

The slightly drunkish med student talks about ward rounds

I'm not drunk. If I concentrate, I can still say "cyanide and thalidomide" without the syllables blurring together... at least, I can if I concentrate. Besides, I can type. Right?

You go through a whole day muttering swear words in your head. Everyone acts so patronising... the doctors, the patients, even the other medical students. Patronising in such an unhelpful way. Is it because I'm a girl? Or because I am young? Or because I am physically smaller? Or because I am an Asian? Or a combination of the above? Life on the wards is no fun for a young female short Asian medical student, maybe. But I'm not even all that short. Before I went and did medicine, I was a bloomin allied health professional, dammit, and they would have paid much more respect to me back then. Grrah.

So when my flatmates come home, having had a rough day on the mental health unit themselves, and having gone and bought some alcohol... the only fitting thing to say was: why not? They poured me a big glass of this really bitter thing. I poured a lot of it down the sink when they weren't watching... I hope they don't find out, I think that stuff is expensive.

The doctors on ward round stand around the patient's bed... one consultant, one registrar, two interns, three medical students... sometimes, one nurse. That's four doctors, three doctors-in-training, and a nurse. Eight medics. The doctors flip through the charts, murmur to each other, look at the progress... looking down at the creature before them like it's an intellectual puzzle, the way you'd look at a crossword or a jigsaw puzzle. The effing intern prims her hair, writes in the chart with her careful neat handwriting, stamps the chart carefully and proudly (are you proud of your stamp, which says "Doctor"? Live up to the title, you highly decorated waste of space), having never said a word to the person whoes chart she is writing in. The patient is not a person: he is a puzzle to be solved, a medical enigma, with a set of blood test results and obs. If the puzzle is solved, the person need not be dealt with. Once, when the consultant left to answer a phone call, the group huddled around a patient, and then proceeded to talk about another patient (of course never mentioning names), completely ignoring the one before them. I was angry enough to really make some enemies in there.

A few of them (the patients, that is) I have spoken to before; heard their stories... the son in university, the business for sale, the failing heart, the aging spouse at home awaiting for them to return home. When we enter, like a mob from the movies, they recognise me: the one person in this 7-doctor posse who has spoken to them for more than 2 or 3 sentences. Their eyes light up. "Hello, love", they say. "Yes, of course I remember you."

Today a patient was going to be discharged... he was finally allowed to go home to his wife and help out with the financial burdens of the family. He shook the consultant's hand. "Thank you doctor." he said. Then he turned to me: "And thank you." I hadn't done anything. I'd just sat down opposite him, and we only talked for about twenty minutes. A patient shouldn't need to thank a 3rd year medical student. I was angry to the point of tears.

Of course I have much more to complain about. The older medical student (older in age, not in training) who treats me like a primary schooler, despite the fact that he's never worked in health before... the doctors who think that if they ignore medical students then they will magically train themselves into doctors... the whole f***ing establishment, who thinks that if you sell your soul then maybe, just maybe, you will be considered good enough.

You could say that I am negative because I've been drinking. But you could also say that I've been drinking because the outlook is very negative. Now I think about it, my last drink was quite a few hours ago anyway. I'm not even sleepy anymore.

I guess I will make an attempt to do some reading, another little droplet to fill the vast emptiness that is my brain... then go to sleep... and wake up to another brilliant day on the ward.

The wind and the waves

The wind and the waves, they work so well together!
The waves, they toss my little boat about like a toy,
They spash against the sides; they laugh at my fear,
Like a gang of big playground bullies, they wall up around me,
There is no escape, no mercy, only salt and fear...

But the wind! The wind is much more subtle...
It howls past my ear, laughing and taunting,
I can feel his cold breath on my shoulders, my back,
His words and his laughter pierce my mind.

"You fool," he laughs, "you have no power against us,
You will fall into the murky depths, you are mine! Mine!
Your prayers go no further than this ceiling, your call does not go to the Above
For you are small, and He is big; you are tainted, and He is pure
With one glance He sees the heavens and the earth, the vast spaces and the flowing galaxies;
You are but a speck in His peripheral vision; He hears you not. Where is He now?"

"Look around you - you've been here before! Let the ghosts of the past flit through your mind,
Let the images replay like a silent film - do not deceive yourself!
Havn't you been here before? Are you not going around in circles?
Ergo, the future holds much of the same! There is no hope, no hope, no hope...
What are you holding on to?" laughs the wind.

I crumple in the corner, I can't block him out
His words and his laughter circle my mind,
Day in, day out, there is no respite, no rest for the wicked
Out of these depths I called to You, I called Your Words into mind:
"For I know my redeemer lives..."
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made complete in your weakness..."
"The Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait for Him..."
"I am the good shepherd..."
"Your rod and your staff, they comfort me..."

I hold fast to Your promise, not because I am a person of great faith...
But because I have nothing left, because without You, I am alone in this storm
Though I can't hear you, Lord I know You are sovereign...
You are the creator and author,
The wind is Yours, the waters is Yours
This boat is Yours, this journey is Yours.

May this journey take me to higher ground,
May this cycle end today,
May Your power be made complete in my weakness,
May Your light shine into this darkness,
May Your promise be fulfilled in me,
May Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.