I told her

I thought she knew it, after being in the same class for 3 years.

We mingle a lot with each other. We were once group mates and had gone through thick and thin. I accompanied her to the endoscopy clinic a week before my finals when she was suffering from severe dyspepsia resistant to proton-pump inhibitors (PPIs). I waited for 30 minutes near her block at night to give her a piece of Chocolate Indulgence from Secret Recipe, because I knew she’d like it. I assisted her when she shifted out from campus. Darn. Which straight guy on earth would do these for a girl without an ulterior motive?

And….I don’t play soccer. I’m obviously the only guy in class who actually gives a damn about his weight. I’m a classical cam-whore. I’m self-loving and indecisive. I won't know what to do if my car is broken down. The colour of my shirt always matches my pants’. I always look more presentable than my bookish male course mates. I shop.

However, apparently, and disappointingly, she didn’t even have the tiniest suspicion that I might be gay. How can she be so insensitive? I thought girls had very accurate intuitions.

Last night, we had a casual chat via MSN. And the topic of conversation happened to revolve around relationships. I could take it no more and decided to tell her, without considering that she might not be receptive to homosexuality.

“Eh… It’s not that I don’t want to get a girlfriend. It’s just that, I don’t like girls. You get me?”

I don’t think I got a reply.

Yet, a few moments later, my phone rang. It’s her. A wave of regret engulfed me. I didn’t answer. And it rang again…incessantly. I mustered up my courage and answered, when it rang for the 3rd time, with the mental preparation to deal with the bombardment of questions that would ensue.

" Hey, are you sure about your sexuality? Have you tried it before? Will it help to straighten you if I offer to let you kiss me? Don't you find me attractive? I thought you went to a co-ed school? Why are you gay? It's a waste that you're gay, you know?"

" Duh!! It's not like I've been gay since a few days ago, k?"

Her reaction to my coming out was a concoction of shock, concern, acceptance, excitement and jealousy (because she realized from then onwards that she’d have to compete harder for the hot guys who’re mostly taken or gay?). A typical response. I’ve come out to a few straight beings, guys and girls included, and the reaction they show is invariably the same.

Nevertheless, I’m glad that she’s okay with my being gay. And am proud that I’ve got a new fag hag who’s willing to be my date on Valentine’s day, provided that I’m still single by next February.

Thanks, CH, for being my friend. =)

Oh ya, she actually asked if I was a top or bottom, which totally rendered me speechless.

Merry Christmas

“Tomorrow I'll be on a mission to spread Christmas cheer to my fellow queers down in Singapore. But most importantly, I'll be visiting a certain naughty boy and making sure he gets a piece coal in his sockand a kiss on his lips.”

Extracted from William's blog.

Aww… isn’t that sweet? How I wish someone would fly to somewhere far away from civilization, which is where I am at present, to give me a kiss on my lips.

My end-posting exam will be held next week. It feels like I just sat the previous exam last week. Damn. Aih. I’m hardly prepared. Nobody really is, I guess. Stress and fear have permeated the air. No one has got the mood for Christmas celebration. 3 years in med school has definitely anaesthetized me to tests and examinations to a certain extent. Yet, it’s indeed a misery to not to be able to party or have plans on Christmas.

Apart from that, I’m going into a period in which weight management is temporarily replaced by compulsive eating.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, people!!

The prostate gland

“Can you feel my dick pounding your prostate?”

“Argghh..yeah…”

The conversation above was extracted from one of the numerous pornographic clips in my collection.

The prostate gland is a fibroadenomatous gland surrounding the bladder neck and urethra in a male. It contributes a secretion to the semen.

Basically, it’s generalized that all the excitement and pleasurable feelings the receptive party experiences in an anal intercourse stem from the rhythmic pounding of his partner’s dick against the former’s prostate gland. But, I don’t know how true this statement is.

For years, I’ve made an effort to find an answer to the myth but it’s unfruitful. Well, I do know that the prostate gland plays a role in an orgasm. The sympathetic nervous system stimulates rapid contractions of the ductus deferens, seminal and prostate glands which provide the semen and expulsive force to discharge the sperms. But does prostate gland really have a part to play in inducing sexual arousal in anorectal sex among gays?

Speaking about prostate gland, I come across many old men with a very common problem called benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH) in the surgical ward. The gland becomes enlarged and compresses the urethra (尿道), resulting in difficulty in passing urine. And hence, I’ve got many chances to perform digital rectal examination or PR on them, during which I need to insert my index finger into their assholes to appreciate the enlargement of the gland.

Somehow, the fact that the condition only occurs in old age dashes my fantasy of fingering young hot muscular hunks in the ward. But, at least, I know how a prostate gland feels like now. =)

Hunks in the hostel

We currently share a hostel with the medical assistants who work in the hospital which we're attached to.

They like to walk here in there in boxers, generously revealing their perfect physique and masculinity. Some of them bathe in their underwear with the door open.

And of late, I find myself passing by their rooms unnecessarily, just to take quick glaces at them. Occasionally, they smile to me. And I'll respond with the gayest grin I have. Yet, so far, I don't think I've successfully attracted any of them.

They are indeed a huge distraction. Makes me really desperate. Heh.

Stranded

Am still stranded in Sandakan. Had been deprived of internet access till today. Aih.

Life here is pretty boring. I basically spend my free time watching series and playing DotA against my roommates (apart from studying, of course).

The Hakka population here is larger. It's fun conversing in Hakka with some of the patients, while my friends look at me, awed and tongue-tied. Hehe.

I miss KK.

Feel relieved that there's only a fortnight left. Yet, the bad thing is I've got to celebrate Christmas here. :(

Perhaps...perhaps...

I'll be spending the next 7 weeks in a town called Sandakan. I, together with 23 other students, have been arranged to do our surgery posting there.

Heard that we'll be staying in the nurses' dorm. And doubt we'll have internet access. Which means, I won't be blogging much.

We'll be setting off in a few hours' time. It's going to be a new environment. Naturally, as usual, I'm a little neurotic and am sleepless.

Lately, a friend of mine just came out to his parents who're devastated (I suppose) and unable to come to terms with their son's sexuality. Many things surfaced in my mind. I thought about the gay websites I visited that my dad found out. 3 years ago. They talked to me about it....in a rather nonchalant manner. I played dumb, of course.

I think they know it. I can tell.

My dad has never asked me why I haven't got a girlfriend. He knows it, I guess. Perhaps, he understands. On the other hand, my mom is in a stage what I'd refer to as denial. She never stops worrying about my not having a girlfriend yet.

Sometimes, I wish I were straight. Yet, guys are so beautiful. So irresistible. So appealing. So appetizing. There's nothing on earth I'd exchange for my preference for guys.

Or perhaps, my parents are still not yet aware of my being gay. Ignorant of the many typical gay characteristics I display in my behaviour. Oblivious to the fact that I like guys.

Perhaps, I'm being too apprehensive.

Perhaps...

A smile so seductive

He smiled to me. A smile so enchanting and alluring.

Inexplicably, I could tell he liked me.

I could tell, based on my gay instincts and from his gestures, that he’s gay.

I could tell, based on my intuitions, that it wasn’t a simple smile. But a smile blazing with seduction.

Many a time, our eyes met. It sent flickers of electricity through my entire body. I wanted to get to know him but was too timid and shy. I always looked at him, gave him an equally seductive smile and promptly looked away because I was too shy.

Well, he’s an air-steward on board my flight from KL to X. Very handsome and adorable.

I sat on an aisle seat. He intentionally touched my shoulder once when he passed by. I knew immediately that that’s nothing but a signal that he’s interested in me.

My intention was pure. I just wanted to befriend him. Somehow, this couldn’t explain the sustained erection I had.

We’re apparently interested in each other. I was waiting for him to take the first move and give me his number. Sad to say, he wasn’t bold enough to approach me too. Consequently, in the end, nothing happened.

I really regret for not being proactive enough.

I’ve tried to search for him on Friendster and Facebook but to no avail. I really do regret now. I’m not going to repeat the mistake, if I ever get to see him again.

Nevertheless, at least now I know I can attract people even with my hair unwaxed and when I wear glasses. =)

Slutting adventure

When I was on the way to the airport, I was smiling. My heart was smiling too, as I reminisced the wonderful moments I had during my one-week vacation in KL.

I haven’t felt so genuinely happy for some time.

I guess I owe Gor a.k.a William Ng a big thank for recognizing me as the self-proclaimed President of William’s Di Association. Had it not been him, I wouldn’t have got the opportunity to get acquainted to such gregarious and approachable people as Cheryl, Alex and so on.

Thanks a lot, Chester, for driving me here and there, enabling me to meet the people I wanted to meet. Thank you for organizing the gathering at Xenri which rendered me the chance to reunite with Gor and befriend Eric whom I thought was pretty hot).

Thanks a lot, Cheryl, for bringing me to a lunch in which Alex failed to turn up. LOL. You’re such a wonderful woman. I’ll always give you the respect you deserve as Gor’s Dear.Thanks a lot, Pikey a.k.a Tofu, for the sincerity and altruism that you’d shown to me, despite the fact that you’re no longer single. I really do appreciate you.

Thanks a lot, Jason, for treating me to a meal at the Gardens and not minding the fact that I idolize Alex.

Thanks a lot, Kai Ting, for footing the bill when we high-tead in a Taiwanese restaurant in Pavillion.

Thanks a lot, Alex, for putting such a beautiful end to my slutting adventure in KL. I don't know how to describe the elation I felt. Your body scent made you even more dazzling. (Err… I didn’t purposely sniff you la, ok? I’m no pervert. It’s just your cologne.)

Last but not least, I’d also like to express my gratitude to Mikey, Lulu, Tan Tart and Piano who brought me all the way to Klang for dinner.

Hotties I met : Alex, Pluboy, Gor.

Cuties I met: Queer Ranter (so damn adorable ), Jason, Chester, Cheryl, Lulu.

I really miss you guys. I really do. Thanks for making my vacation so memorable and enjoyable.

My surgery posting starts today. It’s going to be another cycle of stress, endless mugging and the inevitable end-of-posting exam.

Away from stress

Sat for the last paper 2 days ago.

Yet, the ordeal....and the torture...are nothing more than a distant memory now.

....

I reached KL yesterday.


Met up my straight friends as well as Pikey and Chester.

....


It feels so great...to not have to be confined to my tiny little room to study.

It feels so great...to not have to wake up in the morning and shudder at the thought that the exam is approaching.

Drowned in exhaustion

I'm exhausted. Really.


The exam is drawing near.


....


Sometimes, things don't happen to way they should be.


Sometimes, people aren't like whom you used to think they were anymore. Very disheartening.


People are unpredictable. Things are unforseeable.

....

And I've gained weight, evidenced by the noticeable accumulation of fat pads on my cheeks. Something wrong that happens at the wrong time.

....


I feel inferior. Intimidated. Disillusioned. And afraid....of the unknown. Of what lies ahead of me.

At the end of the day, the realization that all I have is myself dawns on me. And the only option I have, is to persevere....with tenacity.... no matter what happens.

About someone who just turned 28

It was a typical night back in May 2008. We met in a restaurant in Old Klang Road.

“ Haha. Now I know why you like to hold your camera in that manner when you’re cam-whoring. It certainly has a slimming effect on you,” he stated. An absolutely honest and candid comment, I’d say. But definitely not something you’d like to hear when you meet someone for the first time.

I flinched a little and stared at the guy half my size and 10 cm shorter than me in blatant disbelief in response to his statement.

Anyway, I wasn’t annoyed. In fact, I appreciated him for his veracity and truthfulness. I was very pleased and honoured to be able to finally meet William after months of sms-ing each other.

I’ve been making friends on the cyberspace for centuries. William is one of the very few who leave footprints on my heart and are willing to listen to the trifles and trivialities in my everyday life. It warms my heart that he always patiently listen to my exaggerated stories and descriptions as well as the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of the cute guys in I see every day. I guess it gets a little boring sometimes but he never complains. He’s more than just a virtual internet friend. He’s a nice person. He cheers me up me when I’m down, when I'm demoralized, when the guy I’m infatuated with likes someone else, when I extremely stressed or when I feel lonely and need to sms someone.

He might not look appetizing or alluring enough to stun and woo my simple mind which is saturated with impurities and easily gives in to temptations. He might not have a husky voice on the phone which arouses me. Yet, he’s someone I’d really love to hang out with during the weekends, had we got the opportunity. He’s one of the several people whom I’d reflexively think of if someone asks me who my good friends are.

Our relationship is completely placid. And hopefully, it’ll continue to flourish and its progress unhindered by the distance between us. Happy belated birthday, Gor. Hope you like the present I posted you.=) May happiness always be with you and the love between you and KH be an eternity.

Another fisherman

“ Encik, you kerja apa huh?”

“ Nelayan.”

Another fisherman. I was delighted upon hearing that. Very automatically, I started to picture the prominent exotic rectus abdominis muscles that’d be awaiting me the moment I exposed his chest and abdomen.

“ Boleh saya periksa sekejap?”

He gave me a tentative nod. And I proceeded to inspect his chest, palpate his apex beat and so on. I didn’t examine his abdomen (though I wanted to..hehe) as nothing in his history signified anything pathological in his gastrointestinal system. See, I don’t always lose my sanity and ethics when I encounter muscular patients. =)

---

I got an upper respiratory tract infection (URTI) but am recovering well from the sore throat, mild fever and temporary hoarseness of voice it gave me. It could be hospital-acquired. Not a punishment of being too hamsap, I hope. We usually go all out to examine patients with good and obvious signs, disregarding their disease status. They might be having unconfirmed pulmonary tuberculosis (TB), Hepatitis B infection or pneumonia. And personally, I rarely bother about taking the necessary safety precautions for they’re troublesome and time-consuming. Should have been more cautious.

---

Aaron has gone back to India. My cell phone has again sunk into an irritating silence. Aih.

I’m now alone in my room. Guess my roommates have gone out with their girlfriends. A bit lonely. How I wish there’s someone with whom I can share my joy, laughter and tears. Someone who cheers me up when I’m down. Someone who’s neither a fantasy, nor a figment of my imagination.

But…

Aih…

Muscled

I'm fatigued and drained.

I carpool to the hospital with a friend. But still, it's tiring. And I wish the astronomical petrol price would go down a bit for it's placed a rather huge financial burden on me.

Otherwise, I’m having a great time in my medicine posting. Everyone in the ward seems to have a different and unique story to relate to you. Very interesting. Sufferers of acute pancreatitis will describe to you a very characteristic pain which radiates to the back from the epigastrium. Whereas, those afflicted with acute cholecystitis (inflammation of gallbladder) will give you a somewhat different account of pain.

Obtaining the history of illness from patients is something I find very fun and enjoyable. It’s more an art than a textbook sort of thing. It feels more like socializing. Nonetheless, presenting it to a specialist, during which I sometimes stammer and fluctuate between intense anticipation and fear, is a very different thing altogether.

I happened to examine a male patient with 6 packs yesterday. A fisherman. The marble contours of his perfectly muscled chest and abdomen were so dazzling that they sent my heart thudding erratically against my chest wall. His nipples, which I had a burning desire to lick, sent flickers of electricity through my body. But of course, I was self-disciplined enough to resist the temptation. I examined his abdomen twice on the pretext of confirming my clinical findings, indulging in every second of it. In actual fact, it was unnecessary. I was just being hamsap. Very unethical of me, right?

Confession of a gay son

“Mummy!! The bus has arrived!!”

“Okay, okay. Wait a minute!”

Suddenly, I heard a loud thud and subsequently a high-pitch scream of pain. The moment I looked back, she’d already stood up, with fresh blood oozing out profusely from her injured knees. Enduring the crippling pain, she hastily rushed towards me, grabbed my hand and walked me to the bus on the other side of the road. I was stunned and in a complete daze.

“Are you okay?” I muttered to her apologetically.

She remained silent as she waved farewell to me and tried to put on a rather bogus smile that failed to convey the message that everything was fine.

As I watched her trudge back to the house from the window, a swell of sympathy washed over me, gripping me in a sudden agony of utter remorse and sorrow. An overpowering wave of stabbing pain jolted through my heart. Meanwhile, I could vividly feel how unconditional and immeasurable a mother’s love for her son can be. Despite the fact that it transcended my understanding as a 5-year-old boy, the particular incident was permanently etched in my mind.

It staggers me how rapidly time has flown.

I miss shopping with her during my childhood. I miss the days when she’d force me to complete my homework before allowing me to play with the kids in the neighbourhood. I miss the days when she’d stealthily wash the unbearably smelly purple pillow (which emitted a scent I found very exquisite and refreshing) that I carried with me almost all the time. I miss the days when I’d excitedly say “ Mi Mi nite nite!” to swap for a goodnight kiss on my forehead. I miss the days when she’d serve me with the most fattening and tantalizing food after coaxing me into controlling my diet and losing weight. A ridiculous irony. I miss the infuriation which painted her face when I enthusiastically described to her the content of a porn movie that I’d watched with my friends. And that was before I got to know what sex was all about.

I share many things with my mom. Except the fact that I’m hopelessly into guys.

Mummy, on this extraordinary day, I’d like to wish you a happy birthday. Thank you for giving me a fabulous childhood and adolescence. Thank you for the love and care you've shown to me in spite of my occasional disobedience and mischief. I’ve always prided myself on having a such a sophisticated mom without whom my life would be incomplete. I'm standing where I am now, chiefly because of the strength you’ve generously offered.

But sorry, for being gay. Sorry, for I’ve sinned.

May you rest in peace, uncle.

My hypothesis was right. Dr. Edmund graduated from NUI. National University of Ireland. o.O He’s either very brilliant or very loaded. Or perhaps both. I saw his writing in the case notes. It’s astoundingly elegant and neat compared to my illegible clumsy scrawl. This is a rarity. I haven’t seen a doctor’s hand-writing as neat as his.

He was clerking a patient the other day. I stood behind him, pretending to be very attentive to their conversation. And I couldn’t resist the impulse to smell his body scent. I hope he didn’t realize it. It’s a little vague, but invigorating and orgasmic. Hehe. Does it sound nauseating to you? I always have tendency to do so as surreptitiously as possible whenever and wherever I spot a cute guy.

---

I had the opportunity to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) on a collapsed patient in the emergency unit a few days ago. The medical assistants were apparently exhausted and my help was sought.

Dr X: Come on!! Faster! 100 compressions per minute!!
Joe: Ya. Trying.
Dr X: Eh, you’re like making a dough. Straighten your arms!
Joe: …..
Dr X: Use the strength of your entire upper torso!!

I heard some cracking sound when I was doing the compressions with all my might. Did I fracture his ribs?

Well, the poor old man didn’t make it though. Everything that could be done had been done. The tube and IV lines were removed. They switched off the electrocardiograph, stopped the ventilation and called the time. Sometimes, patients just don't respond. And they sink inexorably into death.

The family members were then informed and called in, their eyes teary and red. I guess they’d had the premonition that something tragic was imminent. Grief manifested itself on their gloomy faces. I stood aside, expressionless. My breathing gradually crept towards hyperventilation and I struggled to fight back a sudden wave of emotion the incident had brought on. It's hard to fathom the pain and emotional torment the death had inflicted on his family members. But I wish I never have to as it's obviously heart-wrenching.

Uncle, may you rest in peace.

As he saunters through the ward

Joe: You just came?
Dr. Ed: Yup. First day. First posting. Completely lost.

There came a new houseman in the male medical ward. And there’s one thing about him that arrests my attention.

He’s always smiling from ear to ear. I don’t know why. He’s just being over-friendly, I guess. He smiles to everyone – his colleagues, the physicians, the nurses, the patients and even to ME. He glows with radiance as he saunters through the crowded ward in his spotless white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He exudes a positive vibe that attracts people around him.

I find myself sneaking surreptitious glances at him. He looks rich. Must have graduated from IMU or PMC (Penang Medical College). He’s always kept busy by doing admission clerking, blood-taking, taking orders from MOs and toeing the line. I can sense he’s a bit lost at times. And I particularly like the helpless look on his face which is similar to that of a little boy who gets lost in a huge mall. It makes me feel like protecting him, analogous to what a hen would do when a ferocious eagle dives from the sky to prey on her chicks.

---

It’s now the second week of medicine posting. I was unfortunately selected as the group leader. Very burdensome indeed. Classes never seem to go according to the timetable. The physicians are super-busy. A lot of precious time and money are wasted on calling and waiting in the clinic to negotiate with the consultants and re-schedule whatever that needs to be re-scheduled. Consequently, my phone is always low on credit.

By the way, some of the clinicians here are really awesome. They inspire us with their professionalism. They hold us spellbound with their superb examinations skills that take decades to be polished to perfection. During each ward round, there’ll be junior doctors, nurses and last but not least, nosy and thoroughly impressed medical students tagging along. Like a convoy. Looks very grand.

Many a time, I wonder when I can be that impressive.

An encounter with a tofu-eater

N.B. : Eating someone's tofu is an idiomatic expression derived from Cantonese which can be broadly defined as any act of molestation.

Isn’t it romantic and sweet when a guy tries to win a girl’s heart or the other way round as depicted by the movies? I want to experience that too. I want to indulge in all the joy and excitement. I’ve always had this antiquated thought that the aforementioned courting process has to take place before a relationship can officially start.

Hence, it’s very disappointing whenever a guy says he loves me and wants to get intimate with me when in fact we barely even know each other. It’s absurd and risible, isn’t it?

Well, something undesirable happened to me yesterday.

JW made numerous attempts to hold my hand in the cinema. But of course, he was never successful, thanks to my vigilance. Then, he gallantly placed his hand on my thigh and slowly moved towards my groin in a highly provocative manner. He persisted in doing so despite my apparent annoyance and discomfort. I don’t know what got into his mind. The same thing recurred while I was driving him back. I wasn’t sexually aroused. Maybe he isn’t my type.

He’s a friend’s friend. I decided to hang out with him today as I hadn’t met him for ages. Our relationship is completely platonic. And I really couldn’t believe that he ate my tofu just like that. It’s very despicable and detestable of him. I never knew he’s that sort of person.

I found that totally unacceptable. Perhaps, it’s due to my parental upbringing. I was brought up in a rather religious family setting with the fetters of conservative Asian values. I can be very flirtatious and dirty verbally. However, I don’t get engaged in unnecessary physical contacts with people.

Promiscuity and lax sexual behaviour are among the many social stigmata attached to the gay species. I don’t understand why gays tend to speed things up. I’ve now gradually awakened to the realization that the kind of love I’m looking for doesn’t really exist anymore.

Perhaps, I’m too naïve and old-fashioned.

Nevertheless, I wonder if I’d give in if it wasn’t JW who ate my tofu, but my idol, **e*, or some hot macho hunk. *giggles*

Anyway, I don't feel like meeting JW again. Ever.

Clinique

After all the exhausting and tedious mugging as well as 纸上谈兵in the pre-clinical years, it’s really an exhilarating experience to see in patients what the monotonous textbooks taught me.

I still remember how saturated my heart was with joy and a deep sense of achievement the first time I saw a clubbed finger and pitting edema, palpated an irregularly irregular radial pulse and an enlarged liver, elicited a fluid thrill and auscultated a cardiac murmur. It’s a pleasure to be able to feel the lumps and bumps which I could only visualize or imagine. And to realize what has been learnt is finally being put to use.

Sometimes, you know the theory well enough to impress the physician. But when it comes to doing it, things are messed up. The wheezes, crackles, crepitations and murmurs all sound nothing more than a cacophony of noises to me, when I’m actually putting the diaphragm or bell of my stethoscope on the patient’s chest.

---

I bought the first bottle of cologne in my life before departing the Penang airport. Clinique Happy for Men. It emits a fruity fragrance and is one of the very few perfumes that doesn’t give me a lingering and throbbing headache. I didn’t notice eau de toilette could be so symbolic of homosexuality prior to discovering that all my gay friends actually own at least a bottle of cologne each. Therefore, I purchased one. It did make me feel gay-er a bit.

Olfaction, or smell, as far as I’m concerned, is a magical and interesting thing. It can enhance your liking for someone you adore or accentuate your contempt for someone you dislike. It can make you horny or turn you off. It affects your impression of a person.

Well, it burnt a hole in my wallet. It’d better be a love potion or something equivalent to it. Hopefully, it’ll be a bonus that compensates for the rather unappealing criteria of mine that my potential predator or boyfriend will take into consideration. (Opps….sounds a bit bottom.)

By the way, where am I supposed to apply the cologne? On the chest (William’s suggestion)? Where else? (Honestly, I’m a first-timer.)

A week in hometown

I’ll be walking into the realms of clinical medicine today. It’s the first day of my 8-week medicine posting. As far as I know, medicine is a vast field which encompasses everything under the sun that’s usually non-surgical. But still there’s a lot, seriously. It’s going to be really challenging and taxing, I guess.

I spent an entire week in Penang and my hometown. I had planned to do a lot of things, but ended up flirting online and downloading porn movies most of the time. Apart from that, equipped with a little bit of very superficial knowledge regarding obstetrics and gynaecology, I could relate more to my mom who’s on the verge of menopause as well as my expectant sister who’s at the 32nd week of gestation. I managed to impress them with my ability to locate the fetal head, buttocks and back after a simple obstetrical examination.

I met an old friend, BA. She lost about 10 kg since I last saw her. A lot prettier now. We’d been classmates for 10 consecutive years. We used to be outrageously overweight, if not obese. Living in a society that fetishizes slimness and external beauty, it distorted our self-images and punctured our self-esteem. And that’s probably why I never dated a guy. Then, we came to a point we got so fed up of being teased and the object of ridicule that we decided to lose weight. We fortified each other's determination by providing the emotional and moral support one would need in the arduous process of shedding weight. And I’m not talking about 1 or 2 pounds here. I managed to lose 17 kg last year. A metamorphosis. I’m really pleased BA is making it too.

I always wanted to be slim and petite, with a lean body and an abdominal circumference not exceeding 28 inches. Despite the fact that I've yet to reach my ideal weight and I still don’t look as dazzling as I thought I would after all, I no longer have the inferiority complex about my appearance. It’s indeed a splendid feeling when friends or relatives stare at you in enormous disbelief and astonishment, scanning you from head to toes with their jaws dropped and mouths agape.

Farewell to pussies

I flew back to my hometown in northern Peninsular Malaysia last Saturday after my last paper.

Nothing much has changed. The food. The people. The weather. Everyone is speaking Hokkien. I feel very much at home.

My first posting in year 3 is officially complete. Prior to the posting, the only thing I could think of was pussy, pussy and pussy. Yet, after 8 weeks of ordeal including the exam part which really had its toll on me, I felt it wasn’t that bad at all. It’s definitely something more than pussies, babies and pelvic masses.

I witnessed many things beyond the scope of the examination. The stubbornness of a mother who firmly believed her baby was still kicking after it had been confirmed dead in utero by a detailed ultrasound scan. The apprehension of a daughter who sat beside her mother with malignant ovarian tumour and basal cell carcinoma. The cheerful smile on the face of a girl with Down’s syndrome. The serenity that I felt when I saw a pair of fraternal twins sleeping calmly and peacefully in the warmer. And many other things which testified to the frailty and strength of mankind.

I’ll miss O&G, I guess.

---

Anyway, I dated someone. But it seems it’s not going to work. Before he alighted my car, he gave me a seductive look, signaling that he wanted a kiss. I was sort of pissed off. It’s the first time we met. A big minus. I declined. And still he gave me a peck on my neck despite my reluctance.

Things happen too fast. This is what I dislike about a gay relationship. A straight guy doesn’t kiss a girl on the first date, does he?

Intoxicated

I was in the gynae ward this afternoon, looking for a case of vaginal discharge to be presented during the bedside teaching session tomorrow. When I was busy rummaging through the stack of case notes, suddenly, I sensed someone strangely familiar standing in close proximity to me. I raised my head.

It’s Dr. Teh.

Immediately, my mind was a blank and I blushed. I ogled at him for a few minutes, during which my lungs hyperventilated, my blood pressure elevated and my heart pounded hard.

His facial skin is flawless. He has such an angelic and enthralling smile. It makes me feel sort of…intoxicated. I always fantasize about being the nurse who silently tags along him whenever he does his ward round.

Well, disappointingly, I don’t think he recalls my introducing to him previously anyway. He’s in the ward looking for a patient with ruptured ectopic pregnancy on whom he’d be performing a unilateral salpingectomy (removal of Fallopian tube).

---

Time flies. My current posting (O&G) will end soon after the end-of-posting exam next week. Again, I’m having the pre-exam syndrome with a spectrum of symptoms ranging from apprehension, anxiety, compulsive eating, obsession with sms-ing, breathing difficulty to mild insomnia. A lot of stress, certainly.

However, the motivational and encouraging sms-es William sends me every now and then do assume a substantial role in soothing my soul and alleviating the pressure I’m facing. He kindly requested me to express my gratitude to him officially and openly. So, thank you lo, Gor. =p

A bird unable to spread its wings

RW: Hey, we saw your car outside the mall.

Me: You did? ( Trembling…)

RW: Faster tell. Who did you go out with?

Me: What the hell?! You guys saw me with him…no I mean her? ( Sweating profusely)

TB: Nope. Feels like you don’t have lunch and dinner with us that frequent anymore. Who’ve you been going out with?

RW: Yaya. Are you seeing someone?

Me: It’s a guy. Don’t ask. (Heaving a sigh of relief…)

TB: Nah!! Liar! We aren’t kids. How can it be a guy? Faster tell. Who’s the girl? Do we know her?

RW: Be careful. Don’t let us catch you.

Me: Catch me if you can.

The perpetual interrogation I have to deal with drives me up the wall. The fact is, it’s a guy I’ve been going out with. I seldom mingle with my straight friends, who’re basically anti-gay, on weekends.

The sight of 2 immaculately dressed guys with meticulously waxed hair watching movie together on a Saturday night often suggests they’re a gay couple. That’s the likeliest differential diagnosis it invariably leads to. And definitely, when I’m out with my gay friend, bumping into my homophobic straight friends is the last thing I want.

I study in a small town where chancing upon my friends in a cinema or mall is something that occurs all too often. I avoid going to places they frequent. I park my car at secluded areas so that they don’t know my whereabouts. I’ve got to be very alert and vigilant every microsecond, with my antennae raised and prepared to vanish and submerge into the crowd anytime when a familiar face appears.

My personal space is being encroached upon and my freedom enormously restricted. I feel like a bird with a pair of beautiful wings but unable to spread them. A bird held in captivity admiring the exquisite beauty of the vast blue sky from inside its cage.

Damn. I daren’t think of what the consequences will be if they find out the so-called “girl” whom I’ve been hanging out with is in actual fact a GUY.

Straight guys can always gloat over the girls they date. And I never get to brag about the guy I go for movies with. A discrepancy between being straight and bent.

WALL-E

It’s a love story between a somewhat obsolete robot and a sophisticated robotic probe.

WALL-E’s initial dismal attempts to hold EVE’s hand is a portrayal of how sweet falling in love can be, even among robotic beings.

EVE becomes temporarily comatose after having discovered the sign of life on earth (a seedling plant ) which symbolizes the possibility that mankind could someday return to earth. The fact that he adamantly clings on to the belief that she’ll wake up and that he goes to great lengths to protect her deactivated body, touched my heart.

Then, EVE is retrieved by the spaceship which sent her. WALL-E follows her and embarks upon a journey to outer space, uncertain of what lies ahead and awaits him. His willingness to sacrifice and unflinching determination to win her heart, made me want to fall in love.

And the final scene of their holding hands together, caressing each other’s head and kissing (via electrostatic discharge) was really heart-warming. It made my heart smile. It dawned on me how beautiful love could be.

Is love as simple as holding hands and being there for him whenever he needs you?

Can love ever be so simple, and yet so genuine and sweet?

Could he be the one?

I got to know a gay pharmacist recently. A friend’s friend. He practices in a remote town located in the south eastern region of Sabah. I tried to cajole him into getting transferred to the hospital (HQE) in which I’m doing my postings. HQE, a tertiary centre, is the largest hospital in the state where complicated cases are referred to. And I was delighted to hear that he’d had that intention in mind for some time.

Will he be turn out to be the gay companion whom I’ve always been looking for, someone who I’d call my boyfriend?

Living in a city so sparsely populated by gays, I do feel lonely at times. On top of that, I’ve been celibate for 4 years. But that’s not the main point anyway. I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that something beautiful will happen. I’m not going to mess this up.

That inevitable issue

Mom: Hey, my friend’s daughter is studying your uni too. She just entered1st year.

Joe: Who?

Mom: Neh…That one ar. Our ex-neighbour’s son’s cousin daughter. Tall and pretty one ar. I sms to you her number tomorrow.

Joe: Huh? For what? Don’t want la.

Mom: Contact her lo. Why? You got a girlfriend already?

Joe: Ermm….No. Busy ma. No time kao lui. Didn’t you just come back from China? What did you buy?

Mom: I bought……..

That’s how our conversation veers away from its main topic whenever the inevitable issue of whether I’ve got a girlfriend arises. I either give her the excuse that I’m simply too busy with my studies or that my school is teeming with girls who’re ugly geeks that only worship their textbooks.

I’ve always been bugged by the question of whether or not to come out to my parents. I wonder, if I should ever divulge the astonishing and darkest truth about the person they’ve raised for 21 years as a beloved offspring, that’s me. I spent my adolescence, during which my straight friends thoroughly enjoyed by courting and flirting with as many chicks as they could, contemplating and pondering on the thought of telling my mom the truth.

At the age of 15, after numerous hopelessly unsuccessful attempts of degayification, I wrote a 3-page letter which would reveal the hidden truth about me. It also included a detailed explanation of what being a homosexual involved and a guarantee that I’d still be the same child whom she’d always loved. However, the letter ended in the rubbish bin as I didn’t have the courage to hand it to my mom.

Even until now, I feel extremely pressured the moment my mom asks me why I haven’t got attached. Occasionally, she has the tendency to compare me to my elder brother, Derek (not KH), who started seeing someone as early as in high school, making me feel like exploding. All these create a great deal of tension which mercilessly diffuses into the already very hectic life I’m leading. I can’t even get a dick, let alone a pussy. Aih. Pathetic.

And I guess Derek knows I’m gay. I was 13 then and wasn’t aware of the fact that the pornographic websites that I visited would leave a trail. Yes. I didn’t delete the history. He once gave me a subtle are-you-gay? hint to which I responded with a I-don’t-get-what-you’re-trying-to-say look. Well, till today, he hasn’t said anything about it. And hence, I pretend as if nothing happened.

Anencephaly - baby without brain

At last, the baby boy was out. No cries were heard. The liquor was darkly stained with meconium and he’s obviously cyanosed.

“Do you want to take a look of your baby?” enquired Dr. Ng in a very nonchalant manner.

The mother shook her head incessantly without demur, her eyes tightly shut. A sign of refusal.

The baby was diagnosed with anencephaly at term, much too late for termination of pregnancy to be carried out. Anencephaly, a developmental defect associated with folic acid deficiency, literally means “no brain”. It refers to a condition in which there’s partial or complete absence of the skull bones, the meninges and the cerebral hemispheres of the brain.

The baby looked grotesque and horrendous. He had a froglike facies. The part of the head above the eyes was completely missing. In addition to shallow orbits and protruded eyes, he had a cleft palate and lip.

He was basically left to die, slowly and agonizingly. Neither suction nor neonatal resuscitation was done, attributable to the fact that anencephaly is known to be incompatible with prolonged extrauterine survival, and most fetuses die within minutes to hours after birth.

It didn't take me very long to notice the presence of respiratory effort, albeit very minimal. He was gasping for air with all his might. The wheezes were clearly audible. I placed the diaphragm of my stethoscope on his chest and did an auscultation. His heart was still beating, very rapidly as a matter of fact. And his lung sounds were abnormal, of course.

Despite the fact that the entire world had given up hope on him, the innocent baby portrayed the unwavering determination and desire of an organism to survive, even under circumstances that don’t allow it to, till it heaves its last breath. That kind of touched my heart.

Giving birth to a baby, an otherwise blissful occasion, turned out to be an awful event to the mother who’d have to bear the immeasurable pain of mourning the death of her beloved child. And I believe that till the day she dies, never will what happened on that particular day be obliterated from her memory.

Kiasu-ism

Kiasu-ism is an attitude rampant and deeply entrenched in our society. And needless to say, my school isn’t spared from its invasion too.

If you’ve watched Grey’s Anatomy, an interesting drama series revolving around the action-packed lives of a group of enthusiastic surgical interns fatigued by ward work, I’m sure you wouldn’t forget an unforgettable character – Dr. Yang, an American of Korean descent. She, apparently, is no demure woman. Her passion for and devotion to her job are clearly depicted by the way she talks and walks as well as her frantic and desperate attempts to scrub in on any surgery available. I find her a little self-centred and annoying at times.

Well, unfortunately, I do have course-mates who bear a striking similarity to Dr. Yang. They’re overzealous for knowledge and being the know-it-alls whom the lecturers salute and their classmates hold in high esteem. Their lives, I suppose, are pathetically governed by the motto of getting the best grades and outshining the rest. They beseechingly want to be ahead of others in whatever they do.

Sometimes, I find it hard to compete with such intimidating people, who’re easily identifiable by their bookish and kiasu appearance. Being late for lectures means I’ve got to sit at the back of the class where the slides aren’t clear enough and the voices of the lecturer barely audible. When new textbooks arrive, I’m usually the unlucky person who receives one with a few pages crumpled up or torn. Many a time, when I spot an interesting case in the ward which I feel like clerking, the patient declines to be examined, complaining that he’s been approached too many times. When the examination questions are leaked, you don’t expect to get any tips from them.

Admittedly, I’m not really a brilliant student, but not to the extent of being academically-challenged, of course. I mean, they’re people who score A’s and talk about distinctions, whereas I’d be jubilant if I manage to scrape through. You see, passing a subject isn’t at all a child play, particularly in a school with the passing mark fixed at 65%. In other words, if you get a B- or worse, it simply means you’ve failed. And you’ll be retained during the year break when others are happily vacationing in their respective hometown.

Co-existing with kiasu people really tires me and makes me feel bullied at times. It has sort of prodded me, to some extent, into becoming mildly kiasu as well.

Surviving in med school, it seems, does entail a certain amount of resilience and assertiveness.

Ah Ma, you've got to be strong!

Jamie and I sat outside the oncology clinic, patiently waiting for the arrival of Dr. Teh.

Suddenly, the gynae-oncologist, Dr. Mary, who isn’t really fond of medical students, called us into her clinic. She needed us to be translators and convey her messages to a 75-year-old lady with recurrent endometrial carcinoma (cancer of the uterus) and her daughter, who understood only Mandarin and Cantonese. Heh. That’s when the ability to speak multiple languages stands you in good stead.

The patient was pale (probably anaemic) and emaciated. The tumour was growing at an alarming rate. In view of the advancement and aggressiveness of the cancer, the prognosis of the patient’s condition was rather poor. It had spread to her vagina, it seemed, and was on the verge of distant metastases to other parts of the body, namely the kidneys, bones and lungs.

Surgeries and radiotherapy had previously been done. And the patient was given 2 choices – giving chemotherapy a try or rejecting any sort of medical intervention and let nature take its course. She had reached a stage where the disease was incurable. Chemotherapy would merely have a 20% chance of shrinking the tumour and delaying death. Meanwhile, it’d torture her with such adverse side effects as cardiotoxicity, nephrotoxicity, myelosuppression, nausea and vomiting. And eventually, she’d still die.

Cruel huh?

“Ah Ma, cheer up, ok? Don’t think too much la. Just do whatever you want now. Eat whatever you want. Be happy lo. It helps lessen your pain de.”

“ 顺其自然咯!” lamented the old lady.

Tears pooled up in her daughter’s eyes. She tried to put on a smile that failed to shield the utter grief and helplessness in her. My heart was filled with sorrow and sympathy.

The length of the remnant of the patient’s life is now entirely in the hands of God. Nothing can be done at present, I guess, other than praying for a miracle to occur.

Nevertheless, Ah Ma, you’ve got to be strong, no matter what happens !

Dirty thoughts in the clinic

Dr Teh: So, what’s the case just now?

Me: Ovarian cyst. Scheduled for laparascopic cystectomy. Right?

Dr. Teh: Hmm. Tell me the complications the woman might develop.

I was not the least flustered. When I was in 2nd year, I computed the complications of ovarian tumours into my mind, using a mnemonic. Confidently, I answered.

Me: Erm. Torsion. Rupture. Haemorrhage. Malignant change. Infection.

Dr. Teh: Tell me a few things that are suggestive of malignancy.
Me: Elevated serum levels of CA 125? Loss of weight and appetite?

Dr. Teh: My dear, you don’t jump. When you want to present things, present them in order. Firstly, history. Secondly, physical examination. Then only you come to investigation and so on.

Me: Oh! Ok lor.

I spent the session allocated for ward work today in Dr. Teh’s clinic with another course-mate. It was indeed an honour to be with him. The 2-hour session was educational and absolutely entertaining. He taught us lots of stuff, which was something not every specialist or medical officer would be willing to do. Can’t blame them. Perhaps their workload is so heavy that the sight of a bunch of inquisitive medical students disrupts their mood.

And guess what? Dr. Teh attracted me. Hehe.

He is an obstetrician and gynaecologist in his mid 30s. A little bit fleshy, but neither too slim nor too fat. Someone with the body mass index (BMI) of 26.5 Kg/m², I would say. Just nice. He is not stylish. His hair is neatly combed, just like other geeky- and nerdy-looking doctors in the hospital. Yet, that does not obscure the authentic beauty of his face. He’s handsome. His smile mesmerizes me. And I bet he will look damn appealing if he were a little bit slimmer, or muscular. I actually fantasized about making out with him when I was in the clinic.

Apart from that, he does not speak Mandarin. A typical banana. Only did I realize that when he was removing the ring pessary from the pussy of a Chinese woman with uterovaginal prolapse and started conversing with her in Malay. And I was asked to explain to him a few Chinese words which he did not understand.

Anyway, I really do appreciate him for his humility and willingness to teach. And I’ll find out whether or not he is married.

They make the ward a beautiful place

As I draw near them, some of them pretend to sleep. Some of them give me a derisive smile and the please-fuck-off look upon learning the fact that I actually am just a student. Some of them appear to be delirious and uninterested without bothering to answer any of my questions. Some of them get fed up when I am already halfway doing the history taking. These, are what happen in the ward. It is typical of the patients to be impolite to medical students.

It hurts at times, to be scorned and treated with hostility. Really.

Nonetheless, there are patients who make me feel damn great about myself. They are people who guide me how to insert my 2 fingers into their vaginas, people who greet me with an encouraging smile despite my failure in taking their blood (by venipuncture), and dying patients with valvular heart disease who allow me to appreciate their cardiac murmurs…and so on.

I still remember that pleasant and friendly woman with cervical carcinoma in pregnancy who died 3 days after I took her history. I still remember that 46-year-old nulliparous woman with an ovarian mass the size of a football and whose malignancy had yet to be confirmed, that agreed without a second thought to become the subject for our bedside teaching. That warm and chatty lady immobilized by paraplegia in the orthopaedic ward. That amiable boy with atrial septal defect complicated by thalassaemia major in the medical ward.

These are people to whom I feel eternal gratitude and who make the ward a beautiful place I enjoy going.

What I'd tell an angel

My mom called last night.

Me: Why am I so big in size? Did you have gestational diabetes mellitus (GDM) when I was in your womb?

Mom: I don’t know.

Me: Did you give birth to me by Caesarean section?

Mom: No. You came out from down there.

Me: Was it painful? The obstetric patients in the hospital look so painful when they’re in labour.

Mom: Of course it was!!

Me: You still remember?

Mom: Of course!! If you ever treat me badly in future. I will….

The hospital is a living hell where people go through immense sufferings, emotionally and physically. They say it is a place where you pay off your debts that you owed and get punished for the sins you committed in your previous incarnations.

Cancers devour your flesh, make you cachexic, deprive you of your zest for life and eventually dampen your determination to move on. Renal failure makes you a candidate for haemodialysis and significantly deteriorates your quality of life. Chronic diabetes mellitus puts you on a higher risk of developing stroke, decelerates the healing process of your wounds, blurs your vision and so on. Stroke may rob you of your ability to speak and lead to contralateral hemiplegia and sensory loss or visuo-spatial deficit, depending on where the infarcts in your brain are.

My mom plays a vital role in making who I am today (except the gay part).Had it not been her unconditional love and support, I don’t think I would have survived all the hurdles I have come across. I’m scared that someday, my mom will end up in the hospital too, crippled by diseases and haunted by the fear of dying. I hope that she’ll always be blessed with good health and if possible, longevity. This, is what I would tell an angel, if he offers to honour a wish of mine.

Mummy, I love you. :)

A token of appreciation

I forwarded an sms to Leo last night. He replied.

Leo: Di ar. So late still haven’t slept yet ar?

Me: I liked someone. But he got bf ady. I feel a bit sour. About to sleep lo.

Leo: Oh. Too bad. Don’t worry. I always face this problem. In the end just forget it lo. Or else it’ll make u really hurt. Really…

Me: Your msg makes me smile at least. =) Looks like u r much unluckier than me. Hehe. Anyway, thanks, Leo. Hugs

Leo: No problem. You can always share with me if u need somebody. Ok la. You sleep early la. Nitez o. Muacks.

Me: Aih. Pi**y oso got new target dy. Aih. Gor, u so nice. Next time I treat u yum cha.

Leo: Don’t worry. Still got me accompany you to be single ma. If you come back for sure will let you treat me de. Kekeke…

Me: Remind me lo. I’ll treat u (only during happy hour wor). K la. Nite. Hug Hug.

Leo: Wa. Got time limit tim ar. Erm. Ok lo. Good nite.

I have crushes on guys all the time, and get disappointed in the end. William has always described me as being “inconsistent”. I’m not at all feeling upset. Or gloomy. Yet, his little effort to cheer me up coated my heart with a layer of honey. It felt damn sweet. =) Thank you, Leo.

Life and death

I was on call for the first time last night.

I managed to conduct 2 normal deliveries under close supervision and with the assistance of a staff nurse. It is an enchanting experience, to pull out a baby from his mothers' pussy and hear his cries, which herald the journey of an entirely new life.

Besides, I happened to witness an obstetric emergency too. It was announced that there was a red alert in one of the OTs. When Jamie and I arrived, cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) was being done. Things were dramatic. The obstetricians, anaesthetist and medical officers tried their best to bring the patient to life, but to no avail. We were later told that the patient died due to primary postpartum haemorrhage following a lower-segment Caesarean section (LSCS).

When I was browsing around in the delivery suite at midnight, I was told that CH had got a boyfriend. A bombshell that depressed (not clinically) me for several minutes. Felt kind of demoralized. Demotivated. Sigh. 怎么办?

I left the hospital at 5.50 am, fatigued and down, because of that.

Anyway, life moves on. I have encountered much worse predicaments in my life than that.

Caesarean section

I've just returned from the ward. Last night was action-packed.

I got the opportunity to observe a Caesarean section (an operation performed to deliver a baby via the transabdominal route) which started at 11.35 pm. The procedure was indicated as the patient had premature preterm rupture of membranes (PPROM) and the amniotic fluid index (AFI) was low. Besides, the baby had a breech presentation, meaning that the foetal buttocks (instead of the head) occupied the lower part of the uterus and this would complicate normal vaginal deliveries.

CW and KH accompanied me. It was our first time entering an operating theater (OT) and watch a surgery. Needless to say, we're ecstatic and jubilant. We're required to change into the blue suits ( I don't know what they call them. Surgical gowns?), masks and green caps provided. Even that was enough to make us exuberate. Our laughter permeated the entire changing room. Heh.

The surgeon made a transverse suprapubic skin incision and cut open the abdominal wall, layer by layer. The urinary bladder was reflected inferiorly and the uterus incised. Finally, the baby was taken out. The procedure was much simpler than we thought. It looked kind of quick and easy to our untrained eyes.

It was enjoyable being in an OT for the first time. The 3 of us took tons of pics before changing into our formal attire (at 0035).

Random thoughts

At times, it surprises me to realize the fact I've actually spent 99.9% of my entire life to date with straight guys. We do basically everything together. Having meals. Travelling. Clerking patients. Polishing our clinical skills. Doing physical examination on one another before an OSCE. Playing DotA and basketball. Watching movies. Hanging out. Helping one another in preparation of an exam. Staying united in times of happiness and hardships. The list goes on. Yes. Basically everything, except jerking off and watching porn, as straight porn isn't really my cup of tea.

I know, for certain, that someday in future, each of them will get a girlfriend and have a world of their own. I don't really have a strong network of gay friends, except for a few whom I got acquainted to when I slutted in KL. Some of them did leave beautiful footprints in my heart. But do they actually give a damn about me? I don't know. Hence, it really pains me to think of the possibility that I'll be left alone and lonely, with suicidal thoughts invading my mind subsequently.

I feel helpless and worried. The academic pressure I'm facing, somehow, does help in numbing and anaesthetizing me to all these pessimistic thoughts. But then, the effect is not permanent. Many a time, I'm soaked in fear, not knowing where my life leads to and what the future holds for me. And the something bigger and tragic -- coming out to my parents-- has yet to come. Aih. I really don't know how to deal with this sort of calamity that's imminent and bound to happen.

"Why am I gay?" I asked myself this when I discovered my sexuality 10 years back. I started to deviate further and further from the straight path ever since. Nevertheless, the same old question never ceases to resurface and trouble me even until now. Sigh.

---

The weekend was pretty great though. Got to see the new juniors. Had several wars against them on DotA which actually plays quite a vital role in boosting the senior-junior relationship in our faculty.

Ankle sprain

I sprained my left ankle and fell while playing basketball. An inversion injury which involved twisting of my plantarflexed foot. Some of the fibres of the ligaments might have been torn, I suppose.

Now there’s a localized swelling on my sprained ankle. And the 5 cardinal signs of acute inflammation – rubor(redness), tumor (swelling), calor (heat), dolor (pain) and functio laesa (loss of function) – are becoming more and more obvious. Besides, my gait has been affected too. It hurts when I walk.

Hope it’s not God’s punishment on me for fantasizing about the cute, hot, muscular, athletic and sweaty guys with six packs in the basketball court. Ha.

Juniors

Last night, I got the chance to see my male juniors who just came in. They were gathered in a very secluded area of my residential college by the second-year students. It's just a session to get to know the freshies. The ragging will take part later on, during the orientation day.

Most of them are high scorers from prestigious and pretty well-known high schools all over Malaysia. Chung Ling. Malacca High. Chung Hwa, Kota Bharu. VI. Sam Tet. Keat Hwa. VI.

I despaired of not being able to find my type as I carefully scanned through the guys. Among the 35-odd bookish- and studious-looking guys, there's one who actually caught my eyes. Hehe. A guy from Klang whose name I've forgotten. Slim and lean and sort of cute. A straight STPM scorer. But that's not what attracted me. When asked why he chose medicine, he lamented that it wasn't really in list. He wanted to do actuarial science and went on blaming the Ministry of Higher Education and bla bla bla.

He looks messy, brilliant and has the mannerisms similar to that of CH. He displays a tinge of arrogance and indifference in the way he talks and stands. Some, I'm pretty sure, would find him irritating. Annoying. Cocky. However, I'm strangely drawn to him.

I'll find a chance to get acquainted to him. I thought of bribing him with lecture notes and past-year questions. But he doesn't seem to be a kiasu person who hankers for any of these. But if I'm not mistaken, he plays DotA too. At least, I know we have something in common. This will make matters a lot easier and my motives less obvious.

And hopefully, he's gay. Heh.

As it squeezes out....

I've been very busy lately.

For yesterday alone, I witnessed how a Pap's smear was done, 4 spontaneous vaginal deliveries (SVD) and 3 episiotomies and their subseqent repair as well as an ultrasound scan of an obstetric patient with antepartum haemorrhage. I did a vaginal examination and 2 venipunctures, one of which wasn't very successful. A lot of pussies, and blood.

It's the 4th day today. Our knowlegde regarding basic patient care is very limited, let alone obstetrics and gynaecology. Sometimes, I need to poke the one of the veins in the antecubital fossa several times just in order to take a blood sample. I don't know where the cervix is when my fingers are already 20 seconds in the vagina. I stammer when the medical officers bombard me with questions. I don't really know how to measure the symphysis-fundal height (SFH). I feel lost when palpating the fetal poles. I don't know what I'm looking at during an ultrasound scan. Feel stupid at times.

Watching babies being delivered, nonetheless, is something I find very rewarding. It kind of phagocytoses all these feelings of stupidity which seem to undermine my confidence and self-esteem when I'm with my brilliant coursemates.

The labour pain that a mother, especially a primipara, has to undergo is immense and indescribable. There's plenty of fresh blood and bodily fluid here and there. In an event of difficult birth, an episiotomy has to be carried out and when the incision into the perineum is done, the pain looks so excruciating that it sends shivers down my spine. I do count my blessings for being born with a dick and not having to experience child birth in my current life.

But then, the moment the baby squeezes its way out of the birth canal, my heart melts, like the butter under the sun. The staff nurses will insert tubes, which they call suction catheters, into the its airway. And then, the baby, so fragile but full of live, cries incessantly. Feels like it has been held captive in the womb for an entire 9 months and is eventually set free and comes alive.

I almost shed tears the first time I observed an SVD. I watched in awe, with the zest of a 3-year-old who sees an ice-cream for the first time. My feelings were a mixture of satisfaction, amazement and pleasure.

We're required to perform at least 5 vaginal deliveries in this posting under supervision. And I really do look forward to it. Hehe.

A dream

CH: Hey. Let's go out for supper.

Me: Huh? It's already 0035 wor. Want meh?

CH: Faster la.

Me: But I have a 11pm curfew. I'm not allowed to enter the campus after 11pm.

CH: Nvm de la. Don't worry.

Me: Ok lu....

I boarded CH's white MyVi and off we went.

Well, it's a dream. A sweet one. That's the only part I can vividly remember. Am not sure what happened next.

The world seemed to be more beautiful when I woke up this morning. =) It's my first time dreaming of CH after I realized I was infatuated with him. I was filled with excitement and an inexplicable sense of satisfaction despite the fact that deep in my heart, I knew he's a star that I'd never be able to reach, at least for the time being.

The O&G posting officially began today. Went to class in high spirits. Attended some boring lectures on the embryology and anatomy of the female reproductive organs. And I realized I'd forgotten almost everything I learnt in 1st year. Aih.

CH lingered on my mind the entire day.

Feel so high, although it's merely a dream.

:)

Coming clean

"If you like someone, make sure you take the first move. Don't just wait and expect to be noticed coz if you are like that, then forever people won't notice you."

Darren wrote that.

All of a sudden, my mind is deluged by memories of the days when I was in love with KS. A straight guy. Back in high school.

I was secretly in love with him for 2 years until one day, I finally decided to come clean with him about my feelings for him, no matter how catastrophic the consequences might be.

So, a few months before the SPM examination, I came out to KS and told him that I loved him.

And he said he truly appreciated me for my bravery and veracity but apologized for he didn't feel the same towards me.

Somehow, I wasn't really disappointed, perhaps because I never expected my feelings to be reciprocated.

Nonetheless, I'm glad that our friendship wasn't affected. We're, in fact, still good friends. Heh.

ObGyn

My first posting came to an end last week. Coming up next is O&G (Obstetrics & Gynaecology/妇产科）.

8 weeks.

I don't know what to expect. Lots of pussies, I guess.

But then, the posting will be in another hospital, which means I won't be able to see Dr. Aaron (for 2 months). Sigh.

Distance

I got his number today!!

:)

I met CH when I slutted in KL for 9 days (during which I got to meet 15 guys whom I previously chatted with on mIRC), right before I embarked upon the third year of my university life.

The day I arrived at KL, Pikey brought me to Wing's cafe in Kuchai Lama where a few of his friends were already waiting.

CH caught my attention immediately.

Then, for the next few days, I had the opportunity to meet him several times, with the presence of Pikey's friends.

He's messy. Straight-acting. Manly. Short ( barely reaches my shoulders). Slim and lean. Boisterous and blasting with energy. Childish, in a way that attracts me. Craps a lot. Funny. Fun to be with. Cute and adorable, in a way that makes me dyspnoeic and my heart arrhythmic.

I have a great liking for him. Images of his sensual eyes and his captivating smiles appear on my mind every now and then.

He made my slutting trip very memorable. But the fact that we're separated by the South China Sea really saddens me.

Today, I mustered up my courage and asked for his cell phone number when we chatted online, which I'd wanted to do for so long but didn't have the guts to. Feel very glad, though I know this means nothing more than having a guy I like in my contact list whom I'll never have the chance to be in love with, chiefly because we're so far away from each other.

But still, I've got something to say. CH, I like you. =)

My heart felt sour

Clerked a paraplegic female patient in the orthopaedic ward today. She sustained multi-level fractures of the vetebral column due to a fall from a 2-storey building. She's paralysed from the waist down. Besides urinary and faecal incontinence, she can't walk. Can't stand. And no more sensation.

My heart was deeply touched by her optimism. She answered our questions (even silly ones) very patiently, with a broad smile, making our history taking very smooth-sailing. And she allowed our untrained hands to examine her.

She's just 30. A very jovial and chatty young lady, despite the situation she's in. And yet she's bed-ridden. I could see from her eyes that she missed her home, her family, her siblings. I don't know if she'll be able to recover from her injury. My heart felt sour. Before leaving, I said a prayer to God, hoping that she'll regain the ability to walk.

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I had a bad dream. Dreamt that my father was diagnosed with hepatocellular carcinoma (liver cancer). It woke me up at 3.30am. Ha. What a relief! It's only a dream.

Exams

schI'll be sitting for an OSCE (observed standardized clinical examination), a written test and viva voce at this end of this week, which'll mark the end of my first posting (Introduction to Clinical Medicine and Radiology) in third year.

Tests. Tests. Tests. I don't know how many tests or papers I've sat for since I was in kindergarten. I have a phobia about tests. And I got myself into an undergraduate program in which doing well in examinations is almost everything. Passion and interest alone would definitely not suffice.

The day before a test (even a minor one) is always a nightmare. I experience dyspnoea and palpitations. I feel drowned in helplessness and suffocated by tension. It feels like I've studied everything within the scope, and forgotten 90% of it. That's the scariest part. I panic. I call my mom to ask her to pray for me. I sms my close friends for solace and comfort. And I wish I had a boyfriend to talk to. Sigh.

Nevertheless, third year is quite fun. Less lectures. Lots of ward work. At least, I don't fall asleep during ward work.

I'd better get back to studying. Hope things will be fine. Look forward to my next posting, which'll either be medicine, surgery or Obstetrics & Gynaecology.

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The juniors will be coming in soon. Heard that one of them is gonna occupy my room, which is still short of one occupant. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll turn out to be a cute twink, and gay. LOL. I've been feeling quite lonely lately. I seriously need some accompaniment (in any form). Heh.

Oesophageal varices

Portal hypertension, a state where the pressure within the portal hepatic vein is increased, causes dilated veins (varices) of the portosystemic anastomosis. Varices most commonly occur in the lower oesophagus and hence are called oesophageal varices. The enlarged veins may rupture, leading to severe upper gastro-intestinal bleeding (UGIB).

Clerked a patient, who's a chronic alchoholic and smoker of more than a decade, who'd been diagnosed with oesophageal varices.

There's hepatomegaly. I could palpate the lower border of the liver about 3.5 cm below the costal margin. And the percussion note was dull in the 4th right intercostal space. The consistency was hard and there was no tenderness. The yellow discoloration of his sclerae revealed the presence of jaundice. I thought of liver cirrhosis as the underlying cause of the varices in this particular patient. Yet, of course, I couldn't be sure. It was a mere guess, but a logical one. Am still far from being qualified to make a diagnosis anyway.

Causes of portal hypertension:-
prehepatic:portal vein thrombosis, splenic vein thrombosis
intrahepatic: cirrhosis, schistosomiasis,sarcoidosis
post-hepatic: right heart failure, constrictive pericarditis.

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I bumped into Dr. Aaron twice today!! My heart missed a few beats. The first encouter was in the male medical ward when I was doing history taking ( my history taking became very disorganized in the end) and the second on the staircase.

Cholecystitis

Chronic cholecystitis with cholelithiasis


Rushed to the male surgical ward right after a boring lecture on bedside manners and decorum. Haih. The environment has forced me to become 'kiasu' these days. I can't help it. I just want to survivie.

Found a case on cholecystitis (inflammation of the gall bladder) caused by cholelithiasis.

Acute cholecystitis follows stone or sludge impaction in the neck of the gall bladder (GB), which may cause continuous epigastric or RUQ pain referred to the right shoulder, vomiting, fever, local peritonism or a GB mass. If the stone moves to the common bile duct, obstructive jaundice and cholangitis may occur.

I was able to palpate a mass in the epigastrium of this particular patient. Tried to elicit the Murphy's sign too. I laid 2 fingers over his RUQ, asked him to take a breath, which I knew would cause pain and arrest of inspiration as his inflammed GB impinged on my fingers. Well, his face did crumple up. Yet, I wasn't sure if what I saw was a Murphy's sign.

Gallstones are the notorius cause acute and chronic cholecystitis. Other complications of gallstones in the GB include biliary colic ( occurs when gallstones become symptomatic with cystic duct obstruction or by passing into the common bile duct), empyema, mucocoele and carcinoma. Whereas, gallstones located in the bile ducts may lead to obstructive (acholuric) jaundice, pancreatitis and cholangitis.

Inguinal hernias and cute MO

SureClerked a patient with right-sided reducible inguinal hernia today.

Basically, hernia refers to any structure passing through another and ending up in the wrong place. Indirect inguinal hernias pass through the internal inguinal ring and if large, out through the external ring. During the embryonic development, the testis is led down from its original position in the posterior abdominal wall into the scrotum by the gubernaculum. Hence, if the connection between the peritoneal cavity and the tunica vaginalis fails to close behind the testis, there'll be a patent processus vaginalis. It's through this that an inguinal hernia occurs. Indirect hernias are more common (80%) and chances of strangulation are high as the external inguinal ring is very narrow.

Whereas, direct hernias push their way directly forward through the posterior wall of the inguinal canal, into a defect in the abdominal wall. Predisposing conditions include chronic cough, constipation, urinary obstruction, heavy lifting, ascites and previous abdominal surgery ( damage to the iliohypogastric nerve during appendectomy).

To distinguish a direct from an indirect inguinal hernia, reduce it and occlude the internal inguinal ring (mid-point of inguinal ligament) with 2 fingers. Then, ask the patient to cough or stand -- if the hernia is restrained, it is indirect. If it pops out, it is direct.

Hmm. A medical officer talked to me in the surgical ward. Dr. Aarron. A pleasant surprise. He's kind of cute. I'm not sure of his race. He took the first move to talk to me thrice. I literally tagged along him while he was doing his ward round. I'm gonna linger in the surgical ward tomorrow!!!

When'll you come back?

Gor has gone to Singapore to meet his boyfriend. So, obviously he's not replying to my sms-es.

We've been sms-ing each other a lot since March 2008. He's probably the only person who's willing to listen to all my craps. Haha. Really appreciate him for his patience.

It feels weird not receive his sms-es these few days. My phone rarely rings. And when it does, I wish it's him.

Gor, when'll you come back?