Doctor, doctor are you there??

For the past few weeks I have been busy, work or if in the private sector,busines has been quite brisk. Horrendous motor-vehicle accidents with mangled occupants have been knocking on our doors.

Anyway, today is my 2nd last day of my 8 day call stretch. Can't wait for the weekend.

But that is not the point of this posting. I have previously written on the difficulties of being the physician in a family.


http://bakawali.blogspot.com/2007/10/in-physician-we-trust.html

And now, I would like to vent out my frustrations on almost similar issues - Friendititis. Occasionally friends would ask me for medical advice which I would gladly part with. Who would not want to help a friend.

But sometimes, some people are too smart for their own good. With the easy access of any information on the world wide web a lot of people ask questions that they have answered for themselves. The role of the 'physician' or in this case, me, is just to validate or confirm whatever they do are right.

Lets say I disagree or the advice given is not the answer one wants to hear, then it's not taken seriously or even regarded as a joke. I may be sarcastic but I never joke when I give my professional opinion. And if people ever question my integrity and want to justify my 'wrong' or unsympathetic advice being given due to so-called abnormalities in my state of mind then tough luck. They should just pray to god to cure them of any physical, internal or mental illness, they may get more sympathy there.

I have a very short fuse when it comes to people my undermining professional 'opinions'. A few things irritate me ; people who abuses their body when they know what they need to do to keep it healthy: for example, smoking, excessive drinking of alcohol, eating fatty food when they have a history of cardiac problems, gorging on uric acid laden food when they have been hospitalised for renal stones and gout etcetera etcetera...

And the worse of the lot are people who do all those things and call up or sms their physician friend and say...."Ah... I have been eating lamb chops all weekend and my current pressure is so and so... and I feel lightheaded.. do you think I am OK? Is the medicine not working?" These type of sms'es makes me cringe and I feel like screaming my lungs out.... "Bloody hell, if you don't care, should I?"

Thus I am tired. Very tired.

Nice... what an awful word

The word 'nice' has a few meanings. As taken from the Free Online Dictionary the following are a few of them,
Nice - adj. nic·er, nic·est

1. Pleasing and agreeable in nature: had a nice time.
2. Having a pleasant or attractive appearance: a nice dress; a nice face.
3. Exhibiting courtesy and politeness: a nice gesture.
4. Of good character and reputation; respectable

Well, on the surface the word sounds 'nice' but then, I never ever want anyone to label or call me nice. Nice is the word one uses when trying to breakup with someone (and trying to spare their feelings)

"My dear darling.... I just have to tell you... it is me, not you... you are a nice person. It is all my fault, I am not right for you. I am sure there is someone nice out there for you"

Damn...How I hate to hear those lines. It is so degrading and irritating... What does one means that a person is nice? A person is nice but not good enough for him or her. It is quite perplexing when I know its 'official' definition but then understand too well its common usage. To me, being nice is when people are implying that you are too ordinary, too common, not special etcetera, etcetera... and I can go on and on...

Well, how do one break up with another. My awful suggestion is just tell the truth. "I am so sorry, you are not THE ONE.... Goodbye". At least if someone say that to me I will not be as crushed as if some one starts the sentence with "Lynn, you're a nice girl...blah..blah..blah"

The dreamer in me

I started reading story books when I was very young. Mom used to take us to the Anthonian book store in Brickfields every 3-4 months and I would then get my supply of Enid Blyton. I then progressed to Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Three Investigators and whatever fiction I can lay my hands on. I would read and dream, each word would lit up and form a vision in my mind. Reading is what ignite my imagination to faraway lands, to realms of fantasies and mysteries. It was a world of my own. I was part of the Secret Seven, uttering under my breath the password to get into the clubhouse... I was the genderless member of the Three Investigators, tinkering away in the junkyard, I was...I was...I was......everything, everywhere

I used to read and read without bothering with anything else. Food, homework, household chores were secondary. Mom used to get angry as I will not put a book down until I finished reading it. I remembered once, to get away from the everyone, I climbed into an empty TV box and sat there the whole morning reading. My mother panicked as she thought I had disappeared and I got a nice walloping after that.

And when I discovered the National Library, back then it was at Jalan Raja Laut, I used to spend hours after school reading and searching for new books and authors. That was my heaven on earth.

That was my love. Was.

About 4 years back I stopped reading any fiction. The trigger was when I joined the master's programme. I had to spend most of my hours reading textbook and writing notes that in the end I despise reading. That was so sad.

And now, my imagination, my thoughts feels like a well dried up. Reading is a catalyst of the mind, the soul. Without feeding the mind it cannot thrive. I have to start reading fiction again. Slowly I have to start. The years of abstinence have made my ability to read, to imagine, weak and shallow.

So now, I have to start.