Sunday, March 29, 2009


So I was just thinking about something a friend said to me some time ago.

Poring over it, and going over it round and round in my mind, actually.
You see, sometimes I have the tendency to overanalyse things, especially unimportant ones. And my PP2 paper.


just at that moment, this blared from my iTunes.

Talk of uncanny mind-reading abilities!
Just like that, I laughed so hard that all unhappy thoughts flew out of my mind.
And I realised I was probably just, simply, being 太多心。

Thank you, my laptop, for your timely advice.

And if you were wondering, that song is an old one of 光良品冠。
Name of song? 多心。 =)

Since my laptop has been my loyal friend for a year and a half,
being with me everyday whenever i need it,
staying with me quietly when I'm happy or sad,
and not grumbling when I neglect it for EOS.

I think I should give it a name.

Everyone, say hello to Dellie.

Yeah I know it's a little unoriginal, what with my laptop being a Dell model.
But hey, if the name fits, why not? =)

Just like how a certain someone is going to go by the name Natalie in about 2 months' time.

Friday, March 13, 2009

wouldn't it be nice to..

It's during trying times like this that I wish I were born in the medieval English period.
Like, Jane Austen's times.

I think, why do I study so hard? Why must I study so hard?
Would all that I study be utilised in my future career?
Is it worth it to be stressing my head off like this, for what? a few pages of words, of information that seems oh so important now, but probably wouldn't be of use once eos is over?
My parents tell me that what I'm studying now is the basis of my future career, and I believe them, no doubt.
But IT IS JUST SO DIFFICULT, right now, for me to study what I'm supposed to study.

So, back to my Austen musings.

I would be living with my family, probably a middle class one.
We would have 2 or 3 servants (which is considered normal in those times), a cook, and a modest carriage if possible.

My days would be leisurely.
Maybe I would have a governess, but I prefer not to.
I would be able to read all day long, and discuss the books with my sisters and brothers, and I would not be obliged to undergo an exam on it.
I would be able to play the piano(forte) all day long.
I would probably need to know French, other than English, and coupled with my extensive reading, abilities to play and sing, and probably draw a little, and I would be deemed an accomplished girl. No need to torment myself with hafal-ing the whole Rang and Dale book.

My conversations could be centered on how wonderfully broiled the potatoes were for dinner, and no one would call me shallow or think me silly, because why, girls during those times were supposed, or almost expected, to be silly, and converse about minute, unimportant things.

I would probably meet a nice (rich, if possible) man and after dancing with him at a few balls, have him propose to me and we'd be engaged. No need to paktor for 5 years before even thinking about marriage. Once one falls in love, one has to be engaged then. Nothing less.

And if my husband were to make ten thousand pounds a year, he would be deemed extremely rich! We would live in a beautiful mansion with paintings hung all over the walls, footmen to wait on us, and phaetons and ponies to bring us around the grand grounds of our residence.

Of course, if he were to make only a modest sum, I wouldn't mind living in a small but comfortable parish, with a medium-sized garden.

I would keep myself busy everyday with tending to the household matters, probably cleaning and cooking and looking after the children, if any comes along, that is.

My life would be centered on making my home a confortable one, and pandering to my family's needs.

My life would be uneventful, but happy and satisfied, in a modest way.

And not struggling to stuff gazillions of drug names and information into my brain!

Of course, a dream stays a dream, eh.
besides, I can't possibly transport myself back to the 1800s to live like that.

Just that sometimes, being a 小女人takes much lesser effort.
And it would be nice to lie back and let others take the reins for a while.

For a while only, mind you! =)

Thursday, March 5, 2009

of patients and being patient

So yours truly spent today (technically it's yesterday since it's past 12am now) in the company of sickness, disease, and doctors.

ie, I went for my hospital attachment la!

The one thing I learnt, or realised, from this attachment, was how easy it could be to lose oneself in the humdrum daily life of treating diseases, and consequently lose sight of the most important thing: the patient.

Somehow it seemed to me there was an unspoken rule that once patients stepped inside the doors of a (cough*government*cough) hospital, he had signed a contract to relinquish all rights to his body, and to his feelings.

I was somewhat disturbed by the fact that everyone else in the ward seemed to be of importance, including the (obviously) doctors, nurses, and yet-to-be-seen pharmacists. Except for one glaring omission: the patients themselves!

Imagine this.
You're the poor patient who had the bad luck to be chosen as the case study of one of the many medical students infiltrating the hospital you're lying in. 'Your student' comes to you, with 7 or 8 other students, and a lecturer. He presents his case (that's you!), what happened to you, what the diagnosis, and what is going to happen to you. Unfortunately you don't understand half of what he's saying, and somewhere along the road you catch a word or two that you DO understand. But the word doesn't sound fact, it sounds bad, even to your layman ears. Just when you're starting to wonder if there's something the doctors are NOT telling you, the lecturer gives orders to the group of students to press on your chest and prod your stomach. One by one, they come up to you, and without making eye contact, they probe and prod your body, exposed and open for all to see. You feel some pain, but you're reluctant to say anything lest it starts yet another round of probing and prodding. Then, the lecturer gives your chest a final prod, and proudly announces the answer to a question you weren't even aware of, to all the students. You feel tired and want to sleep. But the people around you seem not to be aware of this fact, despite you yawning, lying down and closing your eyes. The never-ending voices go on still, and at a certain point, you feel your gown lifted up, to be given yet another prod. You decide to ignore this, and continue to close your eyes hoping they'd go away. But they don't....and so you fall asleep amidst the chatter.

Then, two people, obviously students (and you're starting to wonder by now, are there more students in this building than patients anyway?!) come up to your bed, and start copying and muttering to themselves. You don't know what they want. Then suddenly, as if remembering something, they say they are pharmacy students. PHARMACY?! you think. AREN'T MEDICAL STUDENTS ENOUGH TROUBLE FOR ONE DAY?! You want to go back to sleep, but it is difficult for you to do so when you're aware that there are people standing in front of you, and you're afraid they'll laugh at you if you start to snore and sleep with your mouth open with saliva dribbling down the side of your mouth. So you stare at them, and they stare back at you. You don't know what to do. Look at them cannot, sleep also cannot. You hope they would go away quickly, but they stand in front of your bed for the next two hours. Then your lunch comes, and you eat. But as they're still copying the papers, the stare at you eating. And you would swear you saw one of them swallow hard, and stare hard at your food like he was going to snatch it from you. You continue eating as fast as you can. Fortunately, they leave you after a few minutes. You slump back on the bed, lunch forgotten. And you think to yourself, why is it more difficult to be sick than it is to be healthy!

Okay. No offence to any medical students or doctors reading this. I understand the roles and responsibilities you have, and I have no problem with that. I know you're just doing your job, and that, in this case, is to keep the patients alive, kicking and healthy.

I just couldn't help feeling sorry for the poor patients.
And I swore to myself, I would either take care of my body well and live a long and healthy life; or die an early death to avoid being put in a hospital.

Of course, I am also aware that I have to visit hospitals to have babies, but that is another story for another day.

I have no problems working in a hospital as a pharmacist. I just don't want to be in the hospital as a patient.

And today, as I stepped into the wards for the first time, I had this sudden urge to cry.
I felt so sorry for all the poor souls lying there, helpless, ill, and feeling like sh*t.
I feel sorry that they have to go through all this pain.
I feel sorry for them because I know some of them are not going to make it through the week.

Oh well.
Hopefully I get over these feelings by the time I graduate.
If not takken I cry everyday I go to work meh?