KLM 810.

as if it wasn’t a weird enough year to begin with, being left alone is probably never the best idea for Morbid Me. today she flies away. i’m frustrated, depressed, guilty… all the grief emotions simultaneously… because it was just too short the time spent with her. and she is going away for just too long.
i want to cuddle her, and hold her. want to watch silly vcds and sing silly songs and salsa and belly dance with her. i want her to fall asleep in my arms, like she used to when i wasn’t working. (now, i fall asleep way before she does).
i miss her. my own angel. please come back safely.

i’ve abandoned her so long, she’s finally avenged herself by abandoning me. and now i feel so lost without her in this empty house, i feel what it’s like for her when i’m on call. bleeding from the outside in. wishing, waiting, hoping. and yet, knowing she won’t turn up at the doorstep anytime soon. three weeks is just too long. i’m sorry for all my overnights. i’m sorry i’m always too tired to be by your side and to be your mom. i’m sorry. really i am.

a bientot..

sometimes we give up the treasures we cherish most, in faith. we bare out our cloaks, and empty our pockets, knowing the eternal lies ahead, and treasures up there yield a greater joy. sometimes i wish we were wrong.

knowing where each road takes us, burrows into my vein
the weight of each matter, the choices taken in vain
the greatest journey is not from point A to point B, but
indeed the hardest road to travel, from the mind to the heart.

needful steady hands going through the motions
wishful thinking of magic fountains, love potions
wanting so badly the very thing i cannot redeem
priorities in life filling me to the brim.

so soon to face at last the climax of this day
to know for sure, if anything will happen come what may
to understand fully the emotions a-swirling
with steaming hot cup cakes and coffee still brewing.

reminiscence the periperi and the great near midnight escape
countless moments we had, with work as a drape
knowing one day too soon we shall say
a bientot, catch you around, maybe someday.

Day of wonder.

an amazing on call. i was so tired and still it was good.
came home for a good breakfast, lo mai kai, glutinous rice, tai pau, siew mai…
went for a baby baptism. beautiful church.
i sat there looking blank, cos i hardly understood what was being said and vanora was jumping on me half the time. but something caught my eye, which perplexed me and yet awed me at the same time. there was this old lady, reminding me of my grandma, who always had and still does, inspire me with her courage to believe. she was climbing the pedestal in church, where a statue of Jesus was. for one thing, she was in a saree, being her age i suspect she already had osteoporotic bones, and she was doing this in service. everything else, to me, had just frozen as i watched, anxiously, how this woman dared to attempt such a stunt at this age, at this time. she climbed up and touched the statue’s feet. she kissed her hands. then she touched his hands and kissed them. she was earnestly praying, and although i couldn’t see from such a distance i’m sure there were tears in her eyes. then she took out this plastic bag, which she held with such reverence, and as if it were her life savings in the bag. she took out this goudy but extravagant golden necklace/garland thing, and she just wanted to adorn the statue with it. she tried many times, but it was just too high. she tried and nearly fell a few times. i was at the edge of my seat, ready to administer any medical help should the need arise. i thought i would make my way through the mass of people to go help her. but she wanted to do it herself (her grandson who was much nearer offered the same). finally she did it. she touched his heart and prayed. full of gratitude, full of thanksgiving. i can’t remember the last time i had that countenance. it was time to sit down and reflect. it couldn’t have cost that much, but i figured this was all she could give, because she treasured it so much. she gave all her reverence, putting the mundani of the saree over her head because she respected him. wow… i am just more and more amazed by it, the more i think about it….

Nothing at all…

it’s funny how a simple conversation plays on your head, like a song never heard enough…
how a seemingly quaint cafe feels all elegant and romantic…
how time just seems not enough…
i really treasure moments when i’m not working and having a life…
i enjoy more the fact that i’m with friends… who make a dull moment so completely fun and enjoyable, i just couldn’t bear to leave.

Like no other.

I was never the smartest in class, nor the most hardworking (nites at trilogy and zouk can attest to that), but i like to think i was passionate as a student.
passionate about this life. passionate about surgery. people warned me that working as a doctor will completely change all that "idealistic thinkings". they were almost right. almost.
i’ve been working nearly a month now. and i feel the same excitement getting a diagnosis right, doing a procedure right or just being in OT. the same frustration when i fail to pick up a sign or diagnosis, or if i couldn’t do a procedure right. the same euphoria during rounds, bringing me back to the wonderful "dato kanda" days…
it’s tiring, yes. it’s frustrating and stressful, definitely. but more than that is that feeling of… wow… i’m finally here, doing this… i’m finally doing what i’ve longed to do for so long… finally… it’s amazing.
i have so much to say but for now… i’m basking in all of this… this cheshire cat grin plastered on my face.
the emo surgeons and anaests (and Uro MOs) may get the better of me some days but over all it’s a great team i’m in… and i have fun at work…
no i don’t want to go back to uni life, because it means i’ll have less time doing what i like…

Minding the mind.

it’s the year 08 and only now, have i sat down to blog… pretty depressing.
i can’t believe that i’m working and i can’t believe that vanora is starting school. i am in surgery and not once have i stepped into the OT… sigh… mixed feelings for this year… i like it don’t get me wrong. just that i want more… and i’m just too impatient to wait.

Real Fly.

Who would have thought, it took, of all God’s creatures, a fly to save me in my distress?
well not exactly locked-in-a-tower-with-no-tv type thing, but more like the daily major stresses in life, feeding Vanora.
gosh, how an angel can be so difficult when it comes to something i am so passionate about, is beyond me. (although all who know me from young, could probably related experiences with me and food in my wee lil lass’ days).
it was especially bad today, as for the second time in 2 months i was getting a viral URTI (flu bug), and i was just drained of energy from fasting and just being with Vanny. and she was especially difficult today.
after 45 minutes with still half to go, in desperation, i went to my bed and lay there. i just asked for strength, wisdom, everything i could think of, to battle this day.
i walked back to the kitchen for another round of insane feeding, when mom saw a fly waltz into the food. oh that’s it, none of this is going into her mouth! so i threw it all away.
my mom said that Vanny should thank the fly she doesn’t have to eat anymore, but i’ll bet i’m the more grateful one.
just thought i should blog it before i forget, or collapse.
ciao!

A sign!

from the previously restless entry, finally there is calm.
SPA letter came in yesterday, and i don’t really know what the fuss is all about. i don’t understand how we have waited so long for something so trivial, and how a wad of paper is so important, when it only tells me i’m hired. great, like i didn’t know that already. sigh…
now to wait for more government processes before i know when and where i’ll be posted. according to a friend from UPM, those who applied for hospitals in KL would have to wait longer, as they are full up now. PLEASE let me have GHKL!!!

workless, mindless.

Having no say in our government, having no rights of a government servant as i’m still yet unemployed, only employs restlessness. the restlessness to do something, to go somewhere, to reach beyond where i am now.
Having no resources to do such things, i am stuck. and frustrated. and left to my own devices.
an idle mind, the devil’s playground.
when you don’t use your brain, it atrophies.
the frustration i have within me, is of course shared with others. these whole wait for elections thing is keeping our appointment letters held up, only to suspend our plans further.
you may think it’s a great long holiday, but without knowing when we start, how do we risk going off, if the letter may arrive tomorrow?
other universities have been given their postings. so why not us? are we a major hindrance to the govenrment that if granted a posting before the elections, somehow by some telekinetic powers we can change the outcome of the elections?
i hardly think half of my batch has registered as a voter, let alone is interested in politics. and with the looks of what is happening to our country, not many of us will be left to witness the unfolding of the things to come.
GIVE US OUR DAMN LETTERS!!!

Truly Malaysian

All this year, being election year and all, my ears have been saturated with nothing but politics, and this odd and feeble attempt to "unite" malaysians by wearing some band, which hardly gets to the root of why we are dis-united in the first place. i really love malaysia, and all we are, but i won’t wear that band, because it doesn’t signify anything. It doesn’t signify unity.
wearing a kebaya doesn’t make me malay, eating bak kut teh doesn’t make me more chinese than i was before eating it (ie, half stays half). wearing a band on my hand won’t change what i feel about other people in this nation.
what would change me, though, happened on a Saturday in Subang. i wished all of you were there, but i’ll probably post the vid up one day…
my aunt has a kindergarten, and at every year end she would host the concert and graduation in Subang. this year’s theme, was Splendour of Love: Truly Malaysian, and truly malaysian it was indeed.
i would love my child to speak different languages, sing songs of different languages, learn dances of different cultures, and know the traditions of different people. we all are aware that malaysia is all of asia compacted into a lil tiny country, with so much more. this country is beautiful and is a paradise really. but we don’t know much about other cultures. have we all witnessed the weddings of various cultures? i bet only a few of us have.
my aunt, and her team of fine and dedicated teachers, made a bold trans-cultural step and created a whole morning of fun filled, speeches, poems, songs, dances and to ice it all: wedding ceremonies of different cultures. (i hate the word race here, because there is no race, we’re all malaysian!) imagine cute lil 4 to 6 year olds nicely dressed in traditional costumes, and playing the roles of in laws, bridal party, groom’s party and of course the bride and groom themselves! adorable doesn’t cut it!
but importantly, each of them were given a chance to learn about the ceremony, learn about the culture, and learn to respect and love each other. the chinese would don Pavadas, cheong sams, and indians don kebayas, etc. it’s so beautiful because at this age, they don’t know if you’re indian or chinese or malay, they just know that you’re a lot like me, and that you’re my friend.
we could learn a thing or two from them. i think every parent took that home with them. not just the wonderful pictures, or the funny antics their children did, but rekindling that semangat  kebangsaan, that we so desperately need.
i’ll post up pics when i get them.