A box of sweets

Ee needs to present the case of the lady with colloid goitre in the ward to one of the consultant surgeons tomorrow morning. A case which I had presented during a bedside teaching session yesterday.

According to her, she didn't have the opportunity to clerk the patient due to time constraints. What a lame excuse, I thought. Hence, I had to lend her my clerking sheet.

After coming back from watching Tron : Legacy, I had to trudge reluctantly to the cafeteria a few blocks away to pass my clerking sheet to her. And she caught me by surprise by giving me a box of sweets as a repayment.

Yes, I was astonished. It's so sweet of her. Really.

Ee and I aren't really close. In class, she's kinda obscure. I'm not trying to sound egoistic and complacent here. But, there are always people in your class whom you know won't pose any threat to you academically or in any way. And I guess she's one of them. 

Well, the point I'd like to highlight here is, when you lend someone (whoever the person may be) a helping hand, without any expectation of being repaid, you never know what's in store for you.

I was actually kinda touched. As if I was embraced by a blanket of warmth and infused with a lingering sensation of sweetness. Something I hadn't experienced in a while.

Thanks, Ee.

Life's impermanence

When I first met her, her entire right breast appeared grotesque with an ulcer with blood-stained serous discharge, peau d'orange sign and satellite nodules. The prognosis was really bad, with the presence of ipsilateral axillary and supraclavicular lymphadenopathy, lymphoedema, malignant pleural effusion and liver secondaries. 

It's painful to see her wither away with such an advanced breast cancer. Really. As I listened sympathetically to her history, I was also angry at her ignorance of her painless right breast lump which had been there for 4 years. I was incensed by the gross stupidity of the traditional medicine practitioner who gave her the misleading advice that it wasn't malignant. Shouldn't these people know that a painless breast lump in a middle-aged woman is cancerous until proven otherwise?

Sometimes, I close my eyes, and ask myself, "What if she's my mom?"

Immediately, I can envision my entire world crumbling down on me. I can imagine myself consumed with anger, cursing destiny for its paradoxes and injustices. I can visualize myself sitting forlornly at a corner, ensnared in self-pity and a devastation unfathomable by others. I can picture myself swimming aimlessly across the ocean of depression with the heartbreaking awareness of mankind's mortality.

Mom called a few times to ask if I'd be going back to hometown after my exam, an idea which I'm ambivalent about. The only thing holding me back is the astronomical price of the return air ticket.

On one hand, I was thinking that I could use the money saved to buy myself a new suit so that I could look stunningly gorgeous presentable during my brother's wedding next February. On the other hand, I really do miss Mom. The approaching exam and my innumerable trivial personal problems, coupled with my impending obesity, are giving me a considerable amount of stress.

Life is impermanent. Certain things ought to be cherished before they vanish forever. I wanna spend as much time as I can with Mom when I still can, even though, inevitably, this means having to come up with a plausible explanation of why I'm still single.

You might want to diagnose me with dependent personality disorder. But, I guess I just miss my mom. And I'm getting very agitated now because, most probably, I'm not going back during my break after the exam.

AirAsia, please have mercy!

The guy at the pool

You emerged in front of me out of nowhere.

I must have been stunned for what felt like an eternity. Strangely, I could feel some sort of serenity within me. The deafening whistling of the lifeguard, the sloshing of the water and the boisterous chatter of the kids were suddenly diminished to an unintelligible distant whisper.

There you were, standing in front of me, drying your body in a sexually provocative manner with a piece of towel. My heart melted like the butter under the afternoon sun. You're smoldering hot. The water trickling down your hair and chest rendered you even more startlingly handsome. 

I was totally captivated by your charm and your manliness. As we made our way to the changing room, I stole numerous covert glances at you, especially your dimples of Venus. My friends were talking to me. But, I was merely mechanically responding to them. You'd stolen my soul the moment I saw you.

When I was about to leave, I noticed you're still in the changing room, half-naked. Hence, I chose to sit on the bench in the room with the ostensible purpose of waiting for my friends who're still having their shower. However, my real goal was to allow myself to admire your beauty for a few more minutes, after which we'd part with each other and probably never meet again.

Suddenly, I could feel my heart cease to beat. Literally.

That was when you turned to a corner and removed the towel around your waist without a tinge of disinhibition, generously revealing your gluteal region. To be honest, I totally didn't see this coming. 

You're completely nude. I wondered if you really had to do this to torture me just to drive home the point that you're hot. I could feel lust incinerating me from the inside. Without any hesitation, I stood up and waltzed nonchalantly to a strategic spot where I could satisfy the relentless urge to obtain a full-frontal view of you while thousands of dirty thoughts germinated in my hopelessly corrupted mind.

I thought the number of examinations of the male genitalia I'd performed would have numbed me to lewd sights such as that of your succulent ass. Obviously, I was wrong. I guess this is somewhat analogous to my persistent craving for porn despite the fact that the climax and the ending are invariably the same.

Disappointingly, I didn't succeed. You'd already put your pants on before I could achieve my goal. And my friends were already beckoning to me, signalling that it's time to leave.

I looked at you for one last time, and left. At that particular moment, I wondered if you'd noticed me. I wondered if we'd ever meet again. I wondered if I'd ever recall the trepidation and palpitation I experienced. I wondered if I would, many years from now, still remember you - the tall, lanky guy at the pool who reminded me that it's okay to be superficial once in a while.

Homophobia

Most of the time, I'm able to maintain a facade of of optimism despite being surrounded by friends who're incorrigibly homophobic.

Unfortunately, it seems I ain't that good in covering up my sexuality. Maybe, I was careless. Maybe, I thought that with the staggering number of gays in our population, people would no longer see homosexuality as an abomination and subconsciously, I began to express myself more boldly. Apparently, I was wrong.

'Macho' isn't a word I'd use to describe myself. Yet, I'm pretty confident that I don't have those mannerisms gay enough to arouse others' suspicion. Perhaps, I did a mistake by publicly airing my liking for Glee and reading 'Eat, Pray, Love' in class. Perhaps, I shouldn't have worn that yellow Paul Frank shirt the other day.

As a consequence, some of my colleagues now seem convinced that I swing the other way. Although I haven't really been ostracized or sneered at, I feel extremely disturbed by the their malicious display of homophobic remarks which has successfully enfeebled the tough front I've always put on.

I remember when I was younger, I liked to make up fairy tales and indulge in an imaginary wonderland in which I was a little prince in disguise, mistakenly thrust into this cruel world to endure the torments by the homophobes. And one day, my knight in shining armor would come to my rescue and ride me back to the castle where we'd be happily married ever after.

However, every now and then, I find myself inundated with pessimistic thoughts and a crushing desolation no one can possibly understand. I feel extremely exasperated when people make idiotic comments about homosexuality, even though they might not be referring to me. I'm full of vengeance and brood. But, I'm unable to retaliate. Sometimes, I just wish I could walk away from all these nonsense.

As for Mom, I've developed my own ingenious ways of pleasing her, which include a 1500 ringgit handbag purchased using my personal savings, with the hope that the pestering would become less. But, frankly, I don't know when it'd be tacitly understood for her that I'm never going to have a girlfriend.

I hope that very soon, the universe will shift and destiny's molecules will be precisely organized for my path to criss-cross that of my knight in real life.

I need a lot of hugs. :(

Housemen

Today, I accidentally dropped a few coins while paying for my breakfast. Just as I wanted to pick them up, Dr. A already had.

Dr. A is one of the few housemen I've Googled about. We met a few postings ago. And I can't really remember his name now. I have this habit of Googling about housemen or even consultants I find attractive, which you can definitely equate with stalking, but of a rather benign and harmless variety.

I've never really seen Dr. A smile. He's not one of those easily approachable housemen who'd take the first move to chat a med student up. 

Hence, I was pretty surprised by his kind gesture. I stood at the counter, momentarily stunned and swooning over him because of his chivalry. Chivalry? What an inappropriate word for me, as I guy, to use. Could this be an ambiguous hint of my previously undiagnosed bo**om-ness?

I wanted shoot him the most resplendent smile I was capable of to express my gratitude. Yet, I just couldn't bring my facial muscles to form a grin.

The other day, I was eating a muffin - one of my stress remedies - when my heartbeats suddenly became chaotic on seeing Dr. Cute saunter into the cafeteria. We sort of had an eye contact for less than 2 seconds in the ward earlier. I was alone. However, I'd purposely chosen a table enough for more than 2 persons, the reason of which needs no further explanation here, I suppose.

I tried to eat as slowly as I could and was beseechingly waiting for him to sit with me.

I began to panic when I saw him inch towards me. 

Nevertheless, it didn't take very long for a spasm of pain and disappointment to develop in me as he walked past me to join his colleagues.

I don't know how some guys are able to lure their victims into their shower stalls in the gym with just a blink. They make it sound as though it's a child's play. But for me, it never seems to work. Is this associated with Feng Shui? By any chance?

I'm only human

I'm sure all of us have heard stories of how people exploit their clients or customers for mercenary purposes. Lawyers. Pharmacists. Promoters. Businessmen. Insurance agents. And even hawkers. They have a variety of unscrupulous ways to manipulate their clients for their personal gains, legally, of course.

Nonetheless, if a doctor is involved in the aforementioned misconduct, he is deemed unethical and despicable. You're not even supposed to order uncessary investigations, say, for instance, obtaining the coagulation profile of a lady with fibroadenoma as a pre-operative assessment if you haven't found anything significant in her history that would suggest the presence of a bleeding tendency.

I've attended numerous lectures on ethics, so much so that, even speaking impolitely to a patient when I'm PMS-ing feels like a total breach of ethics.

Most patients are very understanding and kind. They have faith in my clinical acumen despite the fact that I'm just an obscure medical student. They contribute a lot to my learning experience and have deeply touched my heart in many ways. I wonder if I'll ever have the honour to repay their generosity.

Understanding human behaviour is prerequisite to developing a good rapport with a patient. The rule of thumb is to be polite, and smile genuinely. And never judge a patient. Whether he's an affluent businessman or a peasant with a minuscule monthly salary of RM 300, he can always tell if you're judging him. He can sense it in your nonverbal actions and will clamp up, hampering you from attaining a detailed history and diagnosis. And if this happens during your exam, you're as good as dead.

Unfortunately, there's a minority of patients who really really drive me crazy. It'll take forever to elaborate on how they irritate me. You can always sense it when they really want you to fuck off. After all, they're not the only ones with the ability to interpret nonverbal messages. By right, I'm not supposed to feel the least annoyed. Because medicine is a noble profession. Because, ethically and morally speaking, it's wrong. Because it makes me seem unfit for the profession.

But then, I'm only human.

All I can do is put on a bogus smile and hope my resentment goes unnoticed.

It's that gentleman with a bleeding peptic ulcer complicated with severe anemia and his wife that made me write this. I felt really upset and angry. They were really mean. I remember walking away without even saying thank you. There's only so much you could expect from a barely educated patient, I silently scoffed.

I feel apologetic and conscience-stricken now. But, I'm only human. I will learn to handle such a situation more professionally in time to come.

I went to the pool that afternoon. Swam 40 laps. Shopped to my heart's content in the evening and ended buying clothes even though my wardrobe is already overflowing with them.

This is probably unrelated. But, yes, I'm a rather messy person. I simply don't have the patience to fold my clothes. A major turn off I guess. Yet, it's not like I'm going to meet my potential boyfriend on blogosphere. :)

A fire

We were walking out of the mall after watching Bruce Lee, My Brother, only to notice that the town was shrouded in smoke.

It didn't take us much time to locate its source. A fire broke out in a nearby shophouse.

It's pretty terrifying to see the enormous plumes of smoke billowing from the windows, blurring the night sky partially. And the horrendous tongues of fire that looked as if they're going to greedily wipe out everything in their way.

I remember what I wrote in my essays when I was in secondary school. About the pandemonium and the victims who ran helter skelter, yelling for help. Nonetheless, last night, the scene was rather different. The fire had actually attracted a deluge of curious onlookers.

A few firemen walked past me. I realized they're all very tall and huge, emanating heroism and gallantry. They smelled nice, with a hint of sweat and perfume, and that underlying musk. Yeah right, I was just fantasizing.

My heart skipped a few beats as I watched the firefighters ascend the ladder to extinguish the fire. I held them in high esteem for their courage and selflessness in battling against the blaze. And how they skilfully contained the spread of the fire. It ached my heart to watch them risk their lives and dally with danger.

In my essays, I used to write about my commiseration to the victims. And how my heart sank when I saw the hopelessness in their eyes. I guess I should have elaborated more on the heroism of the firefighters. Even by looking at them, you feel a sense of security.

The tragedy has also humbled me a little. On earth, you may be a doctor. But, before God, you're no one but a human.

Beach Boy

I got to know Beach Boy on Grindr.

He texted me on Grindr. He didn't have a profile picture. Well, honestly speaking, I detest talking to guys who want to make friends but don't have the courage to reveal their looks for reasons I find very idiotic. I wouldn't mind if you choose to be anonymous in your blog. But, hey, it's Grindr!

But then, I did talk to Beach Boy. Maybe, there aren't many Grindr users in the vicinity. Maybe, I wasn't feeling kinda lonely at that particular moment. So, I actually responded and said hi, in a tone that was casual and indifferent enough to veil my desperation.

We had a nice conversation and then we proceeded to talk on WhatsApp.

He sent me a picture of him the next morning. Much to my surprise, he's kinda cute. Hehe. I nicknamed him Beach Boy because he likes to go to the beach. And I couldn't stop visualizing him frolicking in the seawater in his Bermudas and basking in the sun.

That's not the end of the story.

It was 2 days before my end-of-posting exam. To stave off the immense stress that's gradually building up within me, we were talking endlessly again on WhatsApp.

Just when I almost fell asleep from forcefully imbibing the salient features of an ocean of medical diseases,

.....he sent me this.

My bleary eyes were suddenly wide open, followed by a lightning of thrill and excitement that jolted through me. Ah! Look at those well-delineated rectus abdominis muscles divided by the linea alba in between and the rather distinct linea semilunaris at their lateral borders. The serratus anterior muscles. Those beautiful lines in the right and left iliac fossae diagonally downwards from his anterior superior iliac spines (ASIS) bilaterally. The love handles. And not to mention his broad chest, his biceps and brachioradialis muscles which fit in somewhat perfectly.

However, contrary to what you might be thinking at the moment, I was still able to retain my composure. :)

The other day, Beach Boy asked if we could meet up. I said yes, vaguely. Yet, we haven't agreed on the date and time.

Perhaps, I'm not physically prepared yet. I'm still making an effort to minimize the discrepancy between myself in my Grindr profile picture and my actual self, if you know what I mean.

We haven't arrived at a stage where I'd say I'm into him. I guess he serves more like a motivation for me to get rid of the diffuse lipoma of my anterior abdominal wall which has haunted me for years. :/

Dreams

I dreamed a lot when I was a kid.

I dreamed of how my life would be like in future. Of marrying the girl who sat beside me when I was in Standard 1. Of never having to grow up. Of having my mom by my side eternally. In primary school, when asked to write about my ambition, I wrote about mine which frequently alternated between a fireman and doctor.

I dreamed of pursuing medicine in one of the world's most prestigious universities on a PSD scholarship. Of joining Doctors without Borders, saving lives in war zones or areas hit by natural disasters. Which sounds very ridiculous to me now.

I was naturally good at languages. And there was a period of time when I told my mom I wanted to venture into broadcast journalism and be newsreader like those on BBC or perhaps own a column in Time magazine.

Then, I realized I was sexually attracted to guys. I dreamed of having a six-pack by age 20. I planned to fall in love in university to help me survive the tremendous academic stress. In the meantime, I'd tell my mom I had no time to look for a girlfriend. I made a tentative plan to come out to her after attaining financial independence.

Maybe, by 30, I would have amassed enough money to afford a reasonably priced condominium and co-habitate with a live-in boyfriend, who's probably a fireman / mechanic with a six-pack who'd attend to my sexual needs all the time. In case I hadn't had the audacity to come clean to my mom about my sexuality, I might just come up with the brilliant explanation that he's just renting a room.

I had my life almost entirely mapped out. I made tons of dreams. Some of them realistic and most of them absurd. The girl who sat beside me in Primary 1 has recently got married, which awakened me to the realization of how much I've missed out on my love life.

Life isn't perfect. With all the challenges and hurdles. Sometimes, I feel very discontented. Disgruntled. Lonely. And demoralized.

But then, I tell myself it's pointless to linger on how much I've detoured from the path I'm supposed to be travelling on. On how much I've missed out. On the possibilities that may have become a reality if I weren't studying here.

I tell myself I have to extirpate these negative thoughts from my mind and enjoy the remnant of my university life.

I'll appreciate every moment in my life and continue to dream.

Who knows the gay MO will fall for me in the first month of my housemanship? Who knows I might be a successful interventional radiologist performing transjugular intrahepatic portosystemic shunting in one of finest medical centres in the country?

My first kiss

We were in his car after a movie. I still remember it was X-men 3.


But, I can't remember since when I'd begun to have an erection during that particular evening. Was it when our arms got entangled in each other's during the movie? Was it when his sensual eyes met mine the moment he arrivved at the cineplex? Or was it when his sexually arousing body scent hit my nostrils?


I tried to appear as calm and innocent as I could to hide the giant wave of lust which was already gathering its momentum and gradually building up inside me. And I told myself excitedly that, after having been celibate a centuary, the time for me to wake up from dormancy and unleash the sexual tension within me had eventually come.


Well, maybe I wasn't who I'd pictured myself to be in my fantasy. I thought I'd be the dominant party who'd pounce on him like a savage beast which had starved for weeks, brutally rip his clothes open and devour him. Nonetheless, at that very moment, I was completely passive and stoned, desperately waiting for a kiss to take place.


And all of a sudden, our lips met.


Due to my total inexperience, I was actually more focused on how to position my tongue in his oral cavity and wondering if he had infectious mononucleosis, an infection trasmissible by kissing.


I guess there're passers-by who saw us making out. Yet, I couldn't care less but to enjoy the waves of sexual excitement which overpowered me.


He raised his to look into my eyes for a few seconds and did something I did not forsee. He proceeded to lick my ears and and neck which felt so pleasurable that I actually moaned. Ah crap. If I'd known this, I'd have cleaned my ears thorougly earlier. For some explicable reason, I actually hoped we would have sex.



I'm writing this because that's my first kiss. With a guy whom I had feelings for. It's the single most significant component of sexual experience in my life, although it may sound very insignificant to most of you. And I'm afraid that I'd forget had I not written it down.


That night, I was exultant, as though I'd won a trophy for obtaining the highest score in the professional exam. I even texted William and my fag hag to brag about it.


I was 22 then. We didn't become boyfriends owing to certain incompatibilities. And the sex never happened.


I guess I'm a bad boy now. :) Yet, I admit my skills are still very obsolete. I wonder if I can get Tuls to give me some extra coaching on the art of seduction and how to please the other party sexually. Theoretically, of course. Coz I noticed that I tend to imitate what the other person is doing. Which makes me look very moronic.

So what?

So what if I'm into someone? I'm always so far away.

So what if I come across someone my type in the same city who happens to like me too? I'm going to graduate and leave this place for good. 5 years is more than enough.

So what when I graduate? Chances are I'll probably work in a remote area.

So, can I fall in love now? Or should I just ignore my feelings for someone because rationally speaking, it's not going to work.

I wish I were irrational. And Impulsive. At times.

My new boyfriend

I am so in love with my iPhone 4.

I really really do.

And I can't stop Grindr-ing. The guys on Grindr are so different than those on Axcest. At least, there're no kids. You tend to meet more mature and financially sound guys. And the interesting thing is, they're mostly hot.

I'm still waiting for one those with six-packs to buzz me. Which will always be a fantasy because I guess they only approach guys with similarly perfect bodies. Perhaps one you can take the initiative to?

It's kinda exciting sometimes when you realize there's a hot gay guy less then 500 metres away from you. However, as conservative as I've always been, I don't think I'll go beyond the 'boundary'. Not yet.

Today, something pretty embarrassing happened.

I actually missed the diagnosis of tricuspid regurgitation in a chap with decompensated congestive cardiac failure secondary to chronic rheumatic heart disease complicated with atrial fibrillation and prosthetic valve dysfunction. I should have referred to the echocardiogram before I presented the case to the cardiologist. 

Well, he impressed us with his ability to come out with the provisional diagnosis of tricuspid regurgitation just by placing his stethoscope on the patient's praecordium. Awesome.

Hmm. Why didn't I think of that when all my physical examination findings actually pointed towards that diagnosis? The pansystolic murmur at the left lower sternal edge? the tender enlarged liver (though it wasn't pulsatile) ? the elevated jugular venous pressure? the gross ascites and bilateral pitting edema? 

But then, I guess I'm excusable because that wasn't a very direct case. He'd had his aortic and mitral valves replaced. I could hear a cacophony of ejection systolic murmur and clicks here and there produced by the mechanical valves.

In medicine, you may know something theoretically. You may know all the manoeuvres to accentuate certain types of cardiac murmurs. But, when you actually see the patient, it's really not that simple. A lot of practice is needed. You may know everything in the textbook ( which I don't). Yet, if the patient is uncooperative or if you fail to present your findings confidently to the examiner, that's the end of the story. You've got to make an impression. That's why I feel so stressed, you see.

I learnt my lesson today. 

I will improve. =)

Exam's on Monday. No more Grindr-ing.

Medicine posting in 500 words

I grinned when that laborer told me that the precipitants of his migraine included ejaculation. And I was wondering if that's coital cephalgia. He must really hate sex then.

I chatted with the stubborn lorry driver with Crohn's disease complicated with perianal fistulae who refused to quit smoking. I sorta sympathized with him when he talked about her wife's infidelity and his recent unemployment. I saw hopelessness in his eyes. Could these have caused his flare up?

I examined the cute, hunky farmer who suffered from pleural effusion secondary to pulmonary tuberculosis.

I examined that pitiful woman with bulbar palsy with very beautiful tongue fasciculations who had dysarthria and a very clear carotid bruit. Carotid stenosis. She had the look of an elderly ill woman who'd been abandoned by her children. For some reason, my heart ached.

I examined the girl with Down's syndrome who had missed the boat for a surgical correction of her ventricular septal defect. I wondered why she had digital clubbing and cyanosis. And I later found out she had developed Eisenmenger's complex. Poor girl.

I talked to the hot fisherman with decompensated Child's C liver cirrhosis secondary to chronic Hepatitis B infection who could recall every single detail of his variceal bleeding. And I couldn't stop ogling at his son who was so damn hunky and muscular.

It's nice to meet the medical lab technologist with cholangiocarcinoma who was admitted due to liver abscess. She was able to give me a detailed history with medical jargons. She's the sort of patient you hope you can get in exam. You'll know how frustrating it is when you meet someone who can't even tell you the medications he'd been taking for the past 10 years. 

I realized how devastating the complications of haemophilia A can be when the hematologist brought us to see the guy who'd suffered from a subdural haematoma.

I like the friendly girl with myasthenia gravis who talked to me about her bilateral ptosis, double vision and how she progressed to the stage where her respiratory muscles were involved and required intubation. 

The gastroenterologist mentioned something about gay bowel syndrome during a discussion on inflammatory bowel diseases the other day. And I found that very relevant. Never knew such a syndrome existed. Gay bowel syndrome. Interesting. Speaking of this, did you know that AIDS was actually known as Gay-related Immunodefiency Disease (GRID) in the early 1980s?

I saw a diabetic with all the macrovascular and microvascular complications. Diabetic retinopathy, nephropathy, neuropathy, peripheral vascular disease and coronary artery disease. You name it, he has it. That was the day I decided to reduce my sugar intake. 

I saw a young father with systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) in the rheumatology clinic. SLE rarely affects guys. But, when it does, the prognosis is bad. Does he know that SLE patients have a lifespan 10 - 20 years shorter in comparison to the general population?

I felt bad when I talked to patients who didn't know they were actually dying.

It's fun to appreciate the pansystolic murmur of that chap with severe mitral regurgitation. And to see the spider naevi of that chap with alcoholic liver disease and electrocardiogram of that man with sick sinus syndrome.

But, when exam comes, it's not that fun anymore.

I have to be prepared. For the battle next week. 

Tuls, thank you

I'm really really tense.

My last class today ended at 8pm. My mind could barely absorb anything when someone was going through some of the inconsequential details of the management of hepatic encephalopathy based on the American Association for the Study of Liver Diseases.

I feel so tired. I feel like crying. I feel like collapsing.

I've got so many things to do. So many things to read up on.

I have to present a case of Crohn's disease to the head of the medical department tomorrow. I've got a case report which I've completed due to procrastination. I've just rejected a girl very politely by coming out to her. It was a spur-of-moment decision which I hope I won't regret. Apart from that, my beloved car is still being hospitalized. And I'm still waiting indefinitely for it to be discharged.

I texted Tuls out of desperation and frustration, compelling him to say something nice that would soothe my soul.

To my surprise, he did, very obediently.

I smiled.

I really did.

I wish I had my own boyfriend (instead of someone else's) whom I can exploit when I'm in such a predicament.

But, for a moment, I could forget the saddening fact that there'd been nothing really significant in my sexual history and grinned as I read his SMS-es for the second time.

Thank you, Tuls.

No way

I think I'm on the verge of falling for a straight guy again.

The same guy Alicia used to fall for.

Damn it. I need to rationalize.

The worst thing is, he's homophobic.

I don't know how I managed to conceal my sexual preference so perfectly. Sometimes, I feel guilty having to make a few white lies to avert suspicion.

I cannot afford to let this happen. No way!

An accident

We were jerked forward by the inertia brought on by the sudden impact. I could hear a deafening thud simultaneously with the sound of shattering glass which completely dumbfounded me. The collision had already occurred before I could successfully bring my car to a halt.

Fear pervaded the air. Staying calm seemed to be an absolute impossibility. By the time I regained my composure, I realized that my heart was thumping erratically. I was perspiring profusely. The crippling hunger I felt during my lecture an hour ago had vanished. I didn't know how long my sympathetic nervous system had been activated. But, I did know we weren't catapulted out of the car nor injured.

The mishap took place at a roundabout in the heart of the city which immediately led to a traffic thrombosis. I'd always had the inclination to mercilessly curse people who got involved in an accident during peak hours which congested the already very stagnant traffic. The time for karmic payment had come, I thought.

A middle-aged man emerged unscathed from the Kembara I'd just rammed headlong into. The situation looked as if I was entirely at fault. But, thanks God, he didn't look barbaric.

My roommate, the only passenger, and I alighted the car. The driver of the Kembara alleged that I shouldn't have driven too fast. I shrugged my shoulders and didn't even bother to initiate an argument. I have to clarify here that although I can confidently defend a diagnosis I've made for a patient with justifications, generally speaking, I'm never good at arguing. I'm always the one who loses in an argument or quarrel.  Guess I just wasn't born with the fundamental qualities a criminal lawyer must possess.

His mechanic arrived while we're busy making phone calls to seek others' opinions as to how the situation should be dealt with. And his mechanic was hot, damn it. He unintentionally lifted his shirt in front of me. I could see his beautiful six-pack and treasure trail. Or did he do that intentionally? How does he know I'm gay? Is this some sort of strategy to dupe me into giving in to his baseless accusation and to pay the unjustifiable compensation he had demanded for?



To be continued.

Why?

Allow me to sound immature. Just once.

I feel extremely stupid today.

Isn't medicine supposed to be a noble profession?

But, why does everyone seem to have his or her own hidden agenda?

Why does everyone seem so self-centred?

Shouldn't knowledge be shared?

Why are brilliant people so difficult to mix with?

Why do certain people who seem so benign and friendly can suddenly become so selfish?

Why am I always among the  unfortunate who're victimized?

Am I being too sensitive and kiasu?

Am I being too naive?

Now, I believe that there ain't no one in this world who'll stand by you and always look out for you like your mother.

Let me anger and hatred consume me. For today.

Let me translate my grudges and negative emotions into voiceless words here, the only place I can express my frustration without the fear of being judged.

I will grow emotionally stronger from tomorrow onwards.

But, I do not want to be like them. I do not want to lose my innocence and naivete.

I want to be remembered as the naive boy who's so enthusiastic about weight loss but invariably becomes orally indisciplined on seeing appetizing food and extremely remorseful after the reactionary binge.

If I can how my concern to patients without expecting any sort of reciprocation, I believe I can do the same to my colleagues.

子曰：“君子周而不比，小人比而不周 。”

学业上的竞争及现实生活中不必要的尔虞我诈， 真是令人筋疲力尽。

我决定把心胸拉阔。缩小自己。不在乎那么多。就算是吃了亏，也无所谓。尽了力就好。

DotA

As far as I can recollect, I started playing DotA when I was still in the pre-university phase of my life.

There's a bunch of hot hunks from Jit Sin High School who're all DotA freaks. Well, I guess what kindled my interest in playing the game was self-explanatory. When you're a teenager, your peers have a colossal influence on what you do because you want to fit in and not be the social outcast everyone shuns. I even played futsal with them. However, it's a harrowing experience. I must admit that ' atheletic ' is not exactly an adjective I'd describe myself with.

Nevertheless, playing DotA has inconceivably become one of my most favourite pastimes at present. It's not just the game or the ecstasy you experience when you kill an enemy with skills and tactics that develop only after years of practice for noobs like me. Or the recuperative powers it promises after an exhausting examination week. Apart from the indisputable fact that it's the cheapest entertainment you can ever get, it fosters good relationships between my friends and I.

Similar to most guys in general, I'm just another colonial animal incapable of functioning well socially on a solitary basis. The complications that invariably arose in my history of befriending straight guys necessitate no further explanations here. Therefore, DotA, to me, is the equivalent of a friendship lubricant which has played a crucial role in helping me establish a good rapport with my friends in university. Friends whom I can walk with in pride, sending an implicit message to others that we're a group of buddies indispensable from one another. Furthermore, it has also helped me reconnect with my old friends.

Playing DotA is somewhat analogous to drug intoxication. You can momentarily forget about the abysmal fact that you just gained a pound or that the hunk you've been stalking online is officially ignoring you. You become engulfed in euphoria and rapture. On top of that, you feel a deep sense of togetherness and comradeship which stems from the team work that naturally exists among your teammates when the game is going on.

Thanks to DotA and Garena, I've become a regular patron of cybercafes. We can literally spend a century in them, especially those with an interior similar to that of a spaceship. One thing I like about cybercafes is the sight of thuggish twinks with ear studs, tattoos and ludicrously dyed hair, often heard yelling at one another with profanities.

The exciting thing is, many of them are appallingly hunky and hot. Which is the part that totally trumps my fear for my unnecessary exposure to passive smoking that increases my risk of suffering from bronchial carcinoma.

Gang fights are not uncommon. As risible and infantile it may sound, a defeat or loss in a virtual war can fuel anger and dissatisfaction strong enough to induce a gang fight. I personally witnessed one in a  a cybercafe in Genting Klang a few months back. One from which Keng and I almost suffered collateral damage from had we not fled in time.

May the game always be in vogue.

Interracial?

Went to a Hari Raya open house today at the local stadium today with my juniors.

The food was awesome. There's a myriad variety of mouth-watering traditional Malay delicacies and food. There's a deluge of people from different racial backgrounds. I envied those who glowed with health despite the amount calories they were consuming. Isn't it ironical that when you go to places where the more fattening food is served, you tend to see more people who're radiant with health and with a body shape so perfect that they exude sex appeal? 

Of course, there were gluttons who were downing as much food as they could, disregarding the detrimental effect the kilocalories had had on their body mass indices. I saw a lot greedy people who tapau-ed when they were leaving. I saw the neurosurgeon queuing up for food. I saw my professor and quickly avoided him because I did a gross mistake in my gynaecology long case exam and I had no guts to face him.

I also saw a lot of Malay guys. 

I've never pictured myself in an interracial relationship. Although love has always been likened to something borderless that transcends race, creed and beliefs, it's a different story altogether when you're talking about intimacy or a long-term relationship. However, I can't deny the fact that I do find some of them hot. I mean, the hot ones, are hot. I realize that some of them actually have a striking resemblance to the Latinos I've seen in porn. I also find flirting in Malay kinky. But of course, I suck at it.

I've got only one gay friend who's Malay, that's AZ. He's one of the nicest people I've met. Thanks to him, I got to know several hot Malay gay air-stewards, albeit superficially. There's once we had supper with his friends at a mamak stall in Kelana Jaya. I totally failed to blend in. My spoken Malay sounds weird. I don't have the accent. I felt autistic, as though there's a shroud of mist between us that hampered our communication despite my one-sided urge to socialize. I wish I could imitate their accent. They looked so lively and adorable when they spoke their beautifully accented version of Malay. I think I must have looked very ridiculous and constipated.

Flirting online in Malay isn't easy too. I even made an effort to learn the commonly used abbreviations, which, frankly speaking, could be pretty mind-boggling.

Rest assured, they'll only remain an object of desire I'll always be curious and fantasize about.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

We didn't play paintball last Sunday due to the torrential downpour when we arrived at the venue. The game was postponed to this morning.

The game was enjoyable. I could feel a sense of camaraderie as we fought against our opponents on the battlefield. The only thing that irked me was my lack of agility, attributable to my relatively enormous size which made me an easy target. For a moment, I wished there's a weaponry shop just like in DotA from which I could purchase an Eaglehorn to increase my agility or a Lothar's edge which would enable me to become invisible and evade the onslaught of pellets.

We did pretty well in the beginning but in the the end, we actually lost to an opponent team which only comprised girls, one of whom is my fag hag, Alicia. It's extremely humiliating. Living in a society where male chauvinism is still deeply entrenched, I couldn't help but feel that our loss was an utter disgrace. Perhaps, the game has got more to do with precision, speed and agility - which I'm devoid of - than the gender of the participants.

We had lunch in a restaurant. We hardly hang out in such a huge group these days since we've got different postings. Alicia sat opposite me.

Alicia's the only person among us who knows I'm gay. We're pretty good friends. I kinda like her because she outperforms me in almost everything. Studies, singing, debating, public speaking, drawing, dancing, general knowledge, Mathematics and the list goes on. To recapitulate, she's formidable and intimidating. Which explains why she has difficulty finding a boyfriend despite her beauty. Any straight guy would have felt daunted, I guess, unless he's talented and intellectually up to par.

But then, I always tell her that she shouldn't be choosy and that it's impossible to meet a perfect guy with a package of good physique and intelligence as well as all the qualities she wanted. In fact, nowadays, female doctors are NOT the type of girls straight guys will consciously choose to date. I guess the reason is obvious. Correct me if I'm wrong.

The reason that we can be on the same wavelength is that I'm viscerally metrosexual. As contradictory as it may sound, I don't really mind being outwitted by her. Maybe, I'm gay. Hence, I don't care that much. When I hang out with her, I don't have to be the gentleman. I can remove my mask and be my genuine self. In fact, what takes me aback is that, sometimes, she's the knight in shining armour who protects me, making me feel like a complete bottom, which I don't think I am, technically speaking.

During lunch, Alicia regaled us with stories of my quirks when I lived with her during orthopaedics posting and how I liked to wander in the house clad only in a piece of towel. I suddenly miss all the squables and bickering matches we used to have.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

Alicia : 吃那么多？不是在减肥吗？

Me: 不减了。我没有了''目标''。没有了''理想''。没有了减肥的理由。

Alicia: 就是这样，才必须更积极啊！

She knows how desperate I am for a boyfriend. We tend to use subtle words with hidden meanings when we communicate with each other to avert suspicion. I thought for a few seconds and realized that what she said actually made sense. Maybe, do gay guys tend to shy away from dorky med students like me too?

I'm going to play basketball now. Enjoy your weekend. Selamat Hairy Raya, especially to Ameer Zachery. =)

First day of the new posting

Fetched TB from the airport last night. He looked high-spirited and so immersed in love as usual. He flew back to hometown to meet his girlfriend.

Wish I had a boyfriend to go back to too during my holidays. It's rumoured that he'll be getting married next year. All of a sudden, I felt so depressed. And, not surprisingly, desperate.

Today's fun. Internal medicine is fun. It always reminds me that the irrevocable decision I made years ago to apply for med school was right. Well, perhaps, I don't quite fancy the exam part. As a matter of fact, I'm always at a loss whenever it comes to neurology. Yet, generally speaking, internal medicine is always one of my most favourite subjects. I do hope I can be come a physician in future.

I offered to present a case during the bedside-teaching by an internal lecturer today. The one who's supposed to refuse to. I don't know what's there to be afraid of. It's presenting the history and physical findings in an exam-oriented manner and in the fashion lecturers like. Sometimes, I resent being in the same group with mediocre people who piss me off with their cavalier and lackadaisical attitude. This is when I wish I were grouped together with those who're slightly more kiasu. They're always on the prowl and in a desperate search for patients with good signs. Kiasu-ism is not tantamount to self-centredness or selfishness. You actually learn things from them. There's positive competition. Sometimes, you develop a symbiotic relationship with them. Sometimes, you realize how far you're lagging behind in terms of knowledge as well as the need to buck up and strive harder.

The 64-year-old guy I clerked today had liver cirrhosis due to chronic hepatitis B infection besides other concomitant medical diseases such as diabetes mellitus.

I actually noticed in the case note that he was having Fournier gangrene.

Fournier gangrene is a necrotizing infection involving the soft tissues of the male genitalia. The predisposing factors include diabetes mellitus and cirrhosis.

I need to eat less doughnuts and croissants.

My one-week break

Today's the last day of my one-week break.

I enjoyed every single second of my break. I was too busy playing.

We spent hours and hours on DotA and KTV. I was also able to finish half of Jodi Picoult's latest page turner entitled 'House Rules'. It's about a brilliant boy with Asperger's disorder who got accused of a murder he didn't commit. These are things I don't get to do when there're classes. And the thought of being able to sleep till my heart's content made life seem like a bed of roses. Well, at least for a week.

Derrick was in town last weekend. He asked me if I'd like to meet him and his friends in a local club. We aren't very close, partly due to the geographical difference between us. However, I'd say he's one of my most favourite gay friends. I still remember the white D&G shirt which revealed his perfectly sculptured chest that he wore when we first met. What he ordered in Delicious in Bangsar Village where we had our first meal together. I like his sense of humour.

Unfortunately, my car battery was dead. And one of the tyres was flat. Which explains why I couldn't meet him. Sigh. I guess my beloved car is in an imminent danger of multi-organ failure. He's aged. And I can only do so much to prolong his life.

Tomorrow's a new start. Hopefully, I'll get to meet cute housemen that'll keep me motivated make me go to the ward more than I'm supposed to. Besides, I look forward to clerking patients who're farmers or fishermen. They're usually hot. And I love to perform physical examinations on them, not for my solitary pleasure, but to hone my skills as a preparation for my end-of-posting exam. =D

I'll be playing paintball with my friends in the evening. RM 45 for 250 pellets. Hope it's worth it and that it'll mark a beautiful end to my one-week break.

Signing out.

Ain't feeling good

I ain't feeling good.

The papers on Monday were fine. But, I'm dissatisfied with my performance today. Made careless mistakes here and there. I could have done better.

Maybe, I shouldn't be such a perfectionist. Maybe, I should accept my imperfections. Life can be very difficult and when you're trying to hard.

Oh wait. I'm not even trying too hard to begin with. Seriously, I need to buck up. Sigh. No more A- for this posting. Perhaps, I'm just catastrophizing. No worries. I'll scrape through.

To make matters worse, someone rammed into my car. Now, my beloved car's got a huge unsightly indentation. I felt devastated.

Eventually, I told myself to calm down. Well, whatever. I can do nothing besides cursing him with expletives. Even if I'd known who the culprit was, I wouldn't have had the guts to accost him and demand for compensation. I can't afford to have my mood disrupted this week. Having a good mood does help you absorb and assimilate what you're studying more effectively. But, I cringe at the thought of having to fork out a fortune to have the damage repaired.

Calamities always take place at the most inappropriate times.

The only thing that lightened my mood was helping a colleague jump-start her car today. For the first time in my life, I felt so straight. So, I guess now I'm eligible for being labelled as straight-acting?

Two more papers this Saturday. Clinical exam. I hope I will get patients with pre-eclampsia or gestational diabetes mellitus.

In addition to my recent addiction to caffeine and David Archuleta, I've been eating compulsively again to make myself feel good. Sex is definitely the most ideal form of escapism in such a stressful situation. But, I guess I shouldn't be thinking about this now. Pathetic.

Derrick has been telling me that being single has its benefits. Yet, neither do I find these advantages tangible nor realistic when I'm horny.

I'm having shortness of breath

I completely skipped the topic on the disorders of vagina.

Oh well, vaginal cancer is so damn rare. Who gives a damn about it?

Lucifer, breathe! You can do it. Common things are common. People won't be asking you about Jeune asphyxiating thoracic dystrophy.

Chill!

You'll pass.

Guys, thanks a lot for your comments. =D They made me feel good.

I can take no more

My mind is so saturated that my notes make me feel nauseous.


怎么办？怎么办？


Sigh.

I miss my mom

I'm eating my breakfast which I bought from the cafeteria downstairs. I didn't want to take the trouble to drive out. It doesn't taste nice at all.

I miss my mom the most whenever I'm sitting an exam.

I can distinctly recall how the world revolved around me when a exam was around the corner back in primary of high school. My mom was always there. She was my emotional pillar. I had the tendency to tell her how nervous and helpless I felt just to swap for a few words of encouragement although deep in my heart, I knew I would always pass, if not ace. Besides, I always had the nicest and most nutritious food to eat. It felt so nice to be pampered.

With the passing of time, the game became harder and more complicated. Now, with the passing mark set at 65 %, the stress is exsanguinating.

Aih. I'm still struggling to finsh my breakfast. I need the glucose.

I still have 20,000 topics to revise.

I miss my mom. I wish I didn't have to grow up.

No. Just in case you're wondering, I don't have dependent personality disorder. I just miss my mom.

Can someone just pamper me till my exam ends? ;p

C'est la vie

I'm tremendously stressed.

I'm physically and mentally drained.

I'm still writing my case reports which I should have completed last week.

I'm still spending half an hour on average daily on porn to release tension.

I wish I'd been more hardworking.

I wish I had a domineering boyfriend who could physically overpower me and 'dominate' me now. Right now.



Yeah right. Was just kidding about the last part.

I don't like examinations.



=(

Another form of virginity lost

In spite of the asphyxiating exam stress, I'm perfectly okay. Get to see lots of awesome things for the first time.

There's nothing extraordinary about multiple gestation. It's not uncommon. There're quite a few of them in the ward with twin pregnancies. We do get cases of multiple pregnancy in our obstetrics short case or long case examination at times.

But then, I saw a girl with monochorionic triamniotic triplet pregnancy in the ward yesterday. Now, this is something we don't get to see every day. She's got 3 babies in her womb! Awesome. The chance of having a triplet pregnancy is 1 in 6400. I had the honour to clerk and examine a lady with a triplet prengnancy for the first time in my life. I was jubilant.

She's only 20. She gave birth to her first child at the age of 14. Unbelievable.

What was I doing when I was 14?

When I was 14, I had a crush on classmate named ZZ. He's adept at playing tennis and had represented our state on numerous occasions. We didn't have much in common. But, I always offered to help him academically. I remember he's bad in Maths. You know, sometimes, when you fall for someone, you do lots of ridiculous things and sacrifices just in order to win his heart or get closer to him. Nothing he does is nasty enough to infuriate you. You become unusually accommodating to him and at times, to avert an altercation, you're willing to bear the grudge and have your ego punctured. Well, I have to admit I did these too when I was 14. Too bad, ZZ's straight.

Apart from that, I think I was mainly studying and mugging for exams when I was 14. Yeah. I was so nerdy and bookish. When I was 14, I contemplated coming out to my mom but didn't managed to pluck up my courage in the end. When I was 14, it was the ICQ era and I started making gay friends online.

Alright. Sorry for veering off the main topic. Though it's exhilarating to see the girl with triplets, I couldn't help but to feel apprehensive. There're 20, 000 complications that can happen in a multiple pregnancy that she seemed to be oblivious to. I didn't tell her about the woman whose twins died in-utero in the gynaecology ward in 4th floor. Hope she'll be fine.

Oftentimes, in the ward, not only do you learn medicine, you also gain fascinating insights into people's lives. Different patients regale you with different stories and you will realize how others' lives can be so different from yours.

In addition, I saw this for the first time in my life today.

Saw that thing protruding from the vagina? To put it in a way you understand, it's uterovaginal prolapse, which is a very common condition and common exam question.

Gynaecology is unlike other specialties because you're dealing with someone's private part. For ethical and medico-legal reasons, you just can't simply do whatever you like or behave frivolously. You have to be very tactful and take into consideration the feelings of your patients.


Me: Sorry ah auntie.Err.... Nama saya Lucifer. Saya pelajar perubatan dari... Univerisiti X. Boleh ka saya ....errrr..... tengok kamu punya....err....itu? ...supaya saya dapat belajar. Saya tidak pernah tengok dan periksa.... Boleh kah?


Auntie: Boleh ba kalau kau. Tengok ja. 

I feel an eternal gratitude to the lady who gave me an opportunity to gain such an invaluable learning experience. She gave me the permission without the tiniest bit of hesitation. She even allowed me to examine it with my hands. Not every patient is that easily approachable.

Sometimes, it's things like these that keep me going and raise my spirits when I feel demoralized. It's marvelous to have the chance to see so many things for the first time these few days. Feel as if another form of virginity of mine is lost. :p

A hole in my pocket

I must have fallen asleep on my bed. And I woke up in the wee hours of the morning to find my spectacle broken. Must have slept on it with my entire weight. Was extremely frustrated and angry with myself.

No wonder no one in the family supported my decision when I announced to them that I wanted to do medicine. I had to assure them that I would change to avert their skepticism of my capability which apparently stemmed from my carelessness and recklessness. Being meticulous and careful is prerequisite to becoming a safe doctor. Someone can die just because of your negligence.

I've always hankered for having a LASIK (laser-assissted in situ keratomileusis) surgery done so that I won't have to wear glasses anymore. Not only is wearing glasses cumbersome, it also makes me look geeky and dorky. Wish I weren't myopic and astigmatic.

I was 14 when the optometrist discovered I had myopia. Since then, I've spent thousands of ringgit on glasses, most of which were either misplaced and never found or broken. The fortune I've spent definitely exceeds the cost a LASIK surgery would incur. Despite the rare complications the refractive surgery might cause, our professor in ophthalmology told us it's safe and he would've said that the same thing had his daughters asked him for his opinion.

Anyway, I had to pay through my nose for a new pair of exorbitantly priced glasses yesterday. I think it suits me more than the previous one. But now, I'm so broke. :/ Besides, I'm anticipating a 10-minute tongue-lashing about extravagance from my mom when she receives the credit card bill at the end of the month.

I can't do without glasses. Contact lenses are only meant to be worn in occasions during which there's a need to look attractive. For instance, when I'm dating someone, clubbing or when I'm on webcam. Well, there's one deduction you can glean from this. Tuls can tell you how vain I am. =p Anyway, which gay isn't? Meh.

I'm under a lot of stress now. Will be sitting an exam next week, the scope of which encompasses obstetrics, gynaecology and neonatology. You'll most probably hear from me only after my ordeal has ended.

I feel so dead now. I shouldn't have procrastinated. Wish me luck.

Playing basketball

I feel good. Savouring a cup of white coffee and listening to David Archuleta's songs.

Played basketball with my buddies today. Something we haven't been doing much together ever since we entered the clinical phase and we divided in different groups.

When you exercise, your pituitary gland releases endorphins into your brain and spinal cord. It has a high affinity for some opioid receptors through which morphine acts. Endorphins are responsible for reduced perception of pain and feelings of euphoria. They are secreted when you're having an orgasm. The chemicals partially explain why you feel good and high-spiritd after a strenuous exercise (or an ejaculation).

The sun was blazing. I guess we went too early. We had a vigorous play. It was extremely exhausting. I wish I were as agile and athletic as RW. I felt happy. We had lots of fun and laughter.

As we sat on the ground to give our hypoglycaemic and dehydrated bodies a break, I began to contemplate my life and future. We're already in final year. We've been good buddies, though they're hardcore homophobes. At that particular moment, I wondered if things would still be the same after graduation, as I reluctantly listened to their suggestive jokes involving the opposite gender, feigning excitement.

They've been great friends though. When something goes wrong with my car or when my car battery goes flat, they're the ones who bail me out. In short, they're just excellent in things I'm incapable or afraid of dealing with. Don't get me wrong. I'm not fond of behaving like a damsel in distress. It's just that there're certain things I can be very dumb in. No doubt, their dressing sense totally sucks and turns me off. Yet, they possess certain qualities which I find somewhat admirable.

I can prophesy myself drifting away from them in future due to their homophobic nature and antiquated ideas about homosexuality. We'll part with one another, lead different lives and meet different people. Sometimes, it's saddening that this might be the outcome even though we've shared many wonderful moments together. Nonetheless, sometimes, it's agonizing to be a gay in disguise. I always shudder at the thought of their discovering my sexuality.

Ah! What the heck? I told myself not to be so despondent about my life, being gay and continued playing basketball.

Friendships can be likened to straight lines which intersect and criss-cross your life at certain points. Somewhere along the way the friendships just cease to blossom for no apparent reason, although the footprints left in your heart are permanent. After all, how many of those who were once your best buddies are you still close to?

Before I rest my pen, I'd like to dedicate this song to you. David Archuleta's version of Angels. I've been listening to it for over and over again for the past one week. :)



I sit and wait
Does an angel contemplate my fate?
When I'm feeling weak
and my pain walks down a one way street
I look above
and I know I'll always be blessed with love.

Olfaction

I drove to a supermarket where's a McD restaurant within walking distance. I had to withdraw some money from the ATM machine there. And that's how I ended up having a set Chicken McDeluxe for lunch.

It was only until Jamie mercilessly commented how much weight I'd gained when I was asking Mat for a piece of biscuit during class that I was ridden with guilt. A constructive criticism that prodded me into going for a jog this evening.

I haven't been exercising much since I inadvertently injured my finger the other day. Just a lame excuse. 

My stamina had reduced and lungs seemed to have lost their compliance. You can consume thousands of kilocalories in a few minutes. Yet, it takes a considerable amount of effort to burn it.

As usual, the sports complex was teeming with sweaty athletic guys generously flaunting their biceps and quadriceps. They looked so vibrant and full of vigour. The evening sun made them even more radiant with health and manliness.

As they sprinted past me, I'd subconsciously stick my nose closer to smell their musky body scent, allowing myself to maximally enjoy the intoxicating olfactory stimulus for a few microseconds. And I did it rather surreptitiously and pretended as if I was merely inhaling a breath of fresh air. Hehe. This is one my many fetishes and hopefully it doesn't make you nauseous nor turn you off. However, I'm very selective, k? I don't do this to everyone, especially those who're morbidly obese whose repulsive body odour assaults my nostrils even from metres away.

Smell is one of the 5 special senses human beings are blessed with. Sometimes, I find myself drawn to someone partly because of his scent. Or perhaps, he just wears the right cologne. It also reflects your level hygiene, which is something I'm very scrupulous about.

I did visit the derelict gymnasium as well which doesn't even have a treadmill. Did a bit of weight-lifting and push-ups. I saw a few muscular hunks. I lowered my head to look at my mildly distended abdomen with no traces of six packs. And that's when feelings of inferiority began to seep into my soul. Not cool!

I know I should stop building castle in the air and put in more hard work.

Have a wonderful week, guys!

Dealing with kids

I think great doctors are great because of their patients. Had it not been their patients, the medical profession wouldn't even have existed.

I always feel very thankful to the patients I come across. Although some may be a little bit annoying, especially the well-educated ones who think they know a lot about diseases when in actual fact they know very little, I guess I'll still be tolerant enough in future to respond to their hostility with a placatory smile. After all, as the Declaration of Geneva puts it, I'm supposed to consecrate my life to the service of humanity and practise my profession with conscience and dignity. And all these include having a lot of patience. 

But, I've seen spiteful doctors lose their temper and say awful things to patients. Such a scenario is commonplace in government hospitals overcrowded with the sick and needy. I'm not surprised at all, considering the the amount of stress they work under. Nonetheless, I still find the remark very imbecile and inconsiderate. Such doctors propagate a very negative image of others in the noble profession. Well, Savante may say I'm just another typical medical student full of idealism which may have no place in the actual working environment. But, we'll see how it goes. Meh.

And paediatrics is one of my most favourite subjects, partly because I get to deal with children. I find children very adorable, lovable and intriguing, though I still feel intimidated whenever I have to approach an inconsolable kid who cries incessantly even after having exhausted all the tricks I usually use to make my nephew smile. 

But then, when I do succeed in pacifying and soothing a fretful child, no words can describe the sense of achievement and satisfaction that floods me. When you tickle him, he lets out a chuckle followed by a few mumbled sentences of indecipherable words. And as you look into his eyes still glistening with tears and the dazzling smile that slowly forms on his angelic face, you suddenly realize the fatherly instincts you were born with. Haha. I know this might sound absurd. But, at least it applies to me, for a fraction of a second when the eye contact is established. Thereafter, you have to regain your composure and examine the kid competently and present your findings to a consultant who's scrutinizing your examination techniques.

I can still remember the face of the boy with beta-thalassaemia major whom I examined a few days ago. He had a facial expression with loneliness and sadness mingled. How can a kid deprived of quality of life and who has to receive frequent blood transfusions and live with all the debilitating effects the disease be happy and jovial? He looked very innocent, incapable of meanness, hypocrisy and selfishness, unlike the adult patients. I could see a fragility in him that cut through my heart. How I wish I had the power to enliven his gloomy life and lessen his sufferings.

Just for your information, I have alpha-thalassaemic trait. No. I'm not anaemic and I don't need blood transfusion. If I ever get married to a female carrier, each child of ours will have a 25% chance of having thalassaemia major, 50 % chance of being a carrier and 25 % chance of being normal. However, this piece of information is hardly relevant to you gays. =)

And if you ask me if I want to father a child someday in future, the answer is yes, although I don't quite see the possibility of it happening in this life. 

On being corpulent

Had a very heavy lunch. I can only read with grudging admiration about how Skyhawk worships his almost perfect physique (based on his description). And pictures of Eric flaunting his abs in his latest post certainly doesn't help to alleviate my feelings of guilt.

Sigh. How I wish I had the genetic configuration to stay lean like my roommate. He consumes double the amount of calories I do daily. He's a bit too lean. I guess it isn't too far-fetched to say he's skinny, which makes him an object of ridicule at times. He's been spending a fortune on food recently. I can tell he eats for the sake of gaining weight, which seems to be an exercise of futility so far.

I, on the contrary, am struggling to lose weight. I can eat a lot too when my willpower is not strong enough to suppress my ravenous appetite and my insatiable desire for delicious (usually very fattening) food. Yet, I'm different. I really enjoy eating. Whether it's a expensive meal in a plush restaurant or a plate of economical rice which costs me RM 4, I enjoy every bite and every moment of it. I can literally feel the excitation of the gustatory receptors on my tongue and the stimulatory impulses sent to the brain, filling me with immense pleasure.


Me: Kak, nasi separuh ah. Err....kurang sikit. Kurang lagi kurang lagi.


My roommate : Tambah nasi, kak. Tambah lagi. Itu daging banyak sikit. Kuah mau banyak sikit.

So, you can imagine how much mental torture I have to endure whenever I eat out with my roommate. I have to constantly remind myself of the pictures of hot guys in Simonlover's blog just to fortify my determination. Otherwise, I'd be subconsciously consuming the surplus calories my body doesn't need. And not to mention my propensity to buy a piece of croissant or muffin even after a bulky meal.

To me, good food is equally arousing and alluring as hot guys. Haha. Hence, I have a soft spot for guys who bring me to nice places and treat me to good food. *hint*

Nevertheless, in view of my brother's wedding in November and the fat pads which have silently resurfaced on various parts of my body, it's high time to be more disciplined. I hope I can shed a few kilos. It's for my own good too. My corpulence is such a turn off even to myself when I look at my naked self in the mirror, let alone my future boyfriend, who might appear anywhere, anytime.

Oh ya. I came across this on Youtube today. It's a game called Dragon Age. I'm still not sure how it works but I'm certainly going to find out more. =)



Going to watch the Last Airbender in the cinema now. Hope it'll be nice. Enjoy your weekend, guys!

珍惜

现在是凌晨一点零五分。夜深人静。陪伴着我的，只有天花板风扇转动的声音。

刚刚和一个之前追求过自己的男生聊天，勾起了一些回忆和昔日与他相处的画面。

我顿时感到有点悲伤及忧郁。为什么当时要顾虑那么多? 为什么当时那么挑剔？为什么有那么好的男生，我却没有好好地把握？

为什么人总是在失去的时候，才会懂得珍惜？

如今，我并没有想吃回头草的欲望。毕竟，人家现在似乎已经找到了自己的幸福。我承认我对他的感觉并没有很强烈。可是，他的内涵与人格却深深地吸引了我。每当脑海里浮现出他的脸孔时，心悬都会情不自禁地为之波动。可能是当时太注重外表了吧？或是他的男人味不够浓？唉，男性是感官动物的这个事实，任谁也改变不了！

算了。不经一事，不长一智。要是再给我遇到那么好的男人，我就算是赴汤蹈火，也不会放过。

Distancing myself from Ryan

Ryan: Can I hold your hand?



Me: Errr.....

We were in his car. Before I even I had the time to rationalize his sudden and bold attempt to do so, I could already feel the warmth of his palm on mine.

I was flabbergasted.

No. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't feel the jittery rush of adrenaline I experienced when Efkay held my hand in his car. Neither did I have the erection that almost immediately developed when he started caressing my thigh, making my heart beat erratically with extreme excitement and lust.

Ryan's a friend of mine. We've been hanging out pretty much for the past one year. Our relationship, or more precisely, friendship, is completely platonic. He's totally not my type.

I always have the tendency to become very shy in the presence of someone I find hot, or someone who's so my type and whom I have a crush on. I stammer. I blush. I become tongue-tied and clumsy. I say ludicrous things that embarrass me. Sometimes, I feel inferior too, especially if the guy is very attractive. Thousands of thoughts will be racing through my mind. Am I hot today? Does he like the scent of the cologne I'm wearing? Is my tummy still protuberant after a voluntary effort to contract my rectus abdominis muscles hopelessly buried under multiple layers of abdominal fat? Do I look slim? Is my facial fat very obvious? Does he think I'm fat? Do I sound a like no-brainer? Do I look too desperate?  Simply put,  I experience something which can be summed up in a Chinese phrase -- 小鹿乱撞。

I don't really have a gay friend in where I'm studying. I don't have a clan like some of the bloggers. Or a group of best gay friends with whom you occasionally have meals and watch movies together. Hence, I hang out with Ryan for he's the only one who seems to be available. Owing to the fact that I'm not attracted to him physically, sexually and intellectually, I don't feel pressured. I talk whatever I want with him without the fear of being judged. I always meet him in flip-flops and sloppily dressed, unless we are going to places which require us to be dressed to kill.

Despite the numerous hints that he wants something more than friendship, I pay heed to none of them and just play dumb, assuming that he'd be brilliant enough to get the message. I've never exploited his kindness, as in letting him foot the bills when we hang out or buy me gifts, in order not to create a misunderstanding.

So, when Ryan held my hand, I was struck dumb with astonishment and confusion for a few seconds. And I could literally feel my perspiration trickling down my forehead.

I ingeniously switched our topic of conversation and politely pushed his hand away. I told him I wanted to show him the well-healed scar that had formed on my finger after I injured in accidentally 2 weeks ago.

Oh ya. Another thing. In spite of being intermittently horny, I loathe unnecessary physical contact. And for some inexplicable reason, Ryan's been doing that a lot lately, causing me considerable discomfort. He seems to have a particular liking for caressing my shoulders and touching my tummy. And I'm not even muscular or hot to begin with. My urge to warn him against doing that was only prevented by a reluctance to hurt his feelings.

I guess for the time being, I need to distance myself from him temporarily, although this means I might lose a friend and continue to delve deeper into loneliness.  Besides, I need to learn to say no whenever the situation calls for it. My lack of assertiveness has many a time been misconstrued as a form of acceptance and frailty. And that's when people think that their love is requited and make advances (physically).

Aih. My prince, where are you?

On being desperate

I've been feeling very diabetic of late reading how Skyhawk expresses his affection for his boyfriend and vice versa. So sweet and romantic.

Today, I saw Dr. Phuah in the obstetric ward. He's seeing a patient with thyroid disease in pregnancy. In the presence of such a huge distraction, needless to say, I failed to concentrate on clerking my patient.

I got his full name and looking for him on Facebook was the first thing I did after I got back. Disappointingly, he's kissing a girl in his profile picture. That explains why I'm PMS-ing at the moment. Now, the glimmer of hope that he's gay is lost.

I always have the tendency to assume people are gay and fall for them, only to be driven to despair in the end when I discover they're actually not.

I crave for love. I yearn to be hugged and kissed. I fervently wish that I had a boyfriend to whom I can give my body and soul. I wish I didn't have to wrap myself with my comforter and tears in my eyes, imagining that it's the guy I love hugging me.

And I don't know why I always attract people who freak me out and give me a chill of horror that raises good bumps on every square inch of my body. For instance, the immaculately dressed and well-groomed male stranger who followed me out of the changing room of the public pool, placed his arm across my shoulder and asked if we could have a drink. I could see the yearning in his eyes and the temptation rising uncontrollably within me. Yet, the situation was too frightening for me to think of anything kinky.


And not to mention the overtly friendly temple senior, a married man in his 40s and apparently bisexual, who treated me really nice. He bought me expensive meals and gifts. It doesn't take to realize the ulterior motives behind his generosity and kindness when it dawned on me that he'd known I was gay from the very beginning. He saw my gay profile online. Once, I even agreed to stay with him in a hotel as we had to attend an activity in the temple which ended pretty late. My university has an 11 pm curfew. What a close shave! 

Besides, recently, a perverse senior of mine discovered my blog and my identity was exposed soon after. I only suspected this only after he started asking me details of how I masturbate and satisfy my sexual desire out of the blue on Facebook, when in actual fact, I'm not even close to him. My hatred for him became stronger after discovering that Caleb, a junior whom I used to have a crush on, wasn't spared from his harassment as well. Despite my giving him a cold shoulder, he started texting me a few days back. I wonder why he has to approach people in such an eerie way. 

Why is it so hard to attract and arrest the attention of the guys I like?