Thursday, February 22, 2018

I never thought much about it the first time, but recently someone else said the same thing, so I've been thinking about it a lot.

He said, "I can never become a doctor. Seeing all those things would affect me too much."

I don't think people mean anything much when they say these things. Even after joshua explained how difficult it was for him the first time, but his friend remained unconvinced - still, I'm not exactly angry.

A bit of this is what joshua's already said: It was hard for us, too. Especially in third year when we first entered the wards, seeing children with cancer, trauma patients - that was tough. It was too much to take, and maybe we had to leave and get some distance from the case.

Over the years things have changed and now, yes, it's different. It's not that we don't feel sad. But maybe we've learnt to turn the empathy off.

Imagine seeing the face of a father whose five year old son has a glass eye and cancer. Imagine the expression he has when we come in and ask for permission to examine.

Imagine the sounds of a family shouting at each other outside the curtain, saying "Quality of life matter more!" "No, quantity!", while you and your colleague silently draw blood for the patient inside, where a man draws one of his last struggling breaths.

Imagine seeing a mother wail with grief as she sinks to her knees and claws her heart, sobbing.

Imagine standing with your back to the wall as a family surrounds you and demands answers you don't have, some crying, and refuse to let you leave.

Imagine having to tell somebody that some interventions are possible, but they're too expensive and not covered by the scheme.


I don't think it's possible to go through this unscathed. Eventually we learn ways to cope. I think all of us are trying to do our best, and to always be professional and kind; at the same time I think we all have tried to find ways to protect our heart.

But of course it hard. It was as hard for us as it would have been for you.

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

I remember looking out the window. It was early afternoon, but the classroom was in shades of grey and dark purple because of the huge black clouds blotting out the sky. It hadn't started raining yet. Wind blew in through the shutters cold and crisp, and music was playing. A cold but pleasurable feeling ran through my body and I looked out the window thinking, I will remember this day for the rest of my life. This darkness, this chill air that smells of fresh leaves and rain, this song running through my veins.

The thing is, I don't know if anyone else felt the same. I don't know if I was the only one. I never asked.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

"There are plenty of people who are as nice as I am." - Age of Youth 

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

The raccoon said to the beetle, "You were made to be loved."


David Archuleta ft. Madilyn Paige - seasons

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

A quora question.

If I met myself, what would happen?

I think the first few minutes would be awkward, because that's just how I am with strangers. I'd probably be feeling sorry for her, the poor thing, so self-conscious and anxious and awkward, and she'd probably feel the same about me.

But while I show her consideration, I'd realise that she'd be doing the same for me; at that point I would think, I want to be her friend. I want to really get to know her. I am willing to invest my time and burdensome emotions on her...for now.

And then maybe we'd go for lunch or visit a cafe or see how many dogs we can pet in the park. I'd probe gently and watch her reactions, but when I find that she's ok with sharing things about herself, not judgemental and willing to listen, then I'd open up too.

We'd probably end up talking about work, life, family. I'm assuming the 'other me' would have grown up in a different environment (ie. not a complete clone of me) and so we'd have different perspectives, which would be fascinating.

I think I'd really love her. Even though she was a girl, I'd probably fall in love and want to be her best friend forever.

Maybe a month in, I'd get scared. I'd start wondering, what if she has some huge flaw that would blow this apart: what if she's a gambling addict, an abusive person, a dog-torturer, a slaver.... And what if I'm stuck with her for the rest of my life?

At this point I'd probably drop all contact and tell her, I need time alone.

The thing is, I know that no one is perfect. Even if she isn't the next Hitler, she'll definitely have flaws, some of which would drive me crazy. Maybe she thinks that she's better than everyone else. Maybe she likes shouting in my ear, or gets furious when I don't reply within the day. Maybe she has terrible breath. I know this, and I'm not saying I'm looking for someone perfect.

I guess I'm just too caught up dealing with my own flaws and insecurities. How can I add on someone else's? I probably should look outside myself: most likely sharing my life with someone else isn't counterproductive to becoming a better person.

I have no idea what happens after my 'break'. I might call her. She might call me. We might never talk again...

Friday, February 9, 2018

Pyeongchang 2018!


I got caught up in the excitement haha. And Yuzuru Hanyu is skating today!! Not today... :(

Despite the controversies and the rotavirus outbreak, I wish it will go well.

Fighting!!

Thursday, February 8, 2018

When I consider...the small space I occupy, which I see swallowed up in the infinite immensity of spaces of which I know nothing and which know nothing of me, I take fright and am amazed to see myself here rather than there: there is no reason for me to be here rather than there, now rather than then. Who put me here? 
- Pascal, Pense├ęs, 68