I feel old.

I miss those days when I was hot. Or at least I felt I was hot.

I miss those days when a lot of guys flirted with me.

I feel like a piece of shit now.

Argh.

Dear Mummy,

For some reason I don't know, I'm still clinging on to something I don't quite have the sense of belonging to.

I feel chained.

It's troublesome.

Mummy, I wish things were like in the past when I was a kid and you would solve all my problems.

However, I'm an adult now. And there's a huge chunk of my life that I'm forced to keep secret from you.

I'm shedding tears now. Something I didn't expect to happen when I decided to write this blog post.

Dear Mummy,

I punched out from work at 9pm today. My other colleagues left at 7pm.

And because of this, I had a argument with my boyfriend.

I can't remember how many times this has happened.

It's not my fault that there was septic patient who came in 10 minutes before I wanted to leave.I had to do something. It's my responsibility. In medicine, if you're irresponsible, someone may just die. And the person could be someone's father, mother or son.

I've failed to illustrate this point to my boyfriend.I don't know what I've done to deserve all the victimization. I hope he understands I came home late because I had an emergency situation to deal with. Not that I was slow or incompetent in my work.

Felt so disappointed with him that I cried on my way back.

Yeah, I know. I seem to cry lot recently. Let's hope that I won't have to see a psychiatrist yet.

Sigh. Sometimes I just wish I'd chosen to work in hometown where none of this would have happened.

Anyway, happy birthday, Mummy. Enjoy your trip in Thailand.

Dear Mummy,

I thought of you again today. I wonder how you're doing with the red car. Is it still in the workshop?

I've got to study for my assessment tomorrow.

Miss you.

Hope you'll be good

Went back to hometown during the long weekend.

I waved goodbye to my mom from inside my new car.

I cried the during the first 5 minutes after I'd embarked upon my long journey back to KL.

I don't meet my mom often due to the distance between us. Whenever I do get to meet her, I always worry that that's going to be last time I will ever see her again. Call me paranoid or anything.After having seen so many sufferings in the hospital for the past 1 year, I realize that human beings can be very frail. Anything can happen.You never know.

Mummy,I hope you'll be good.

My relationship is not working

Alright. Maybe I lied. Actually, I don't think my relationship is working.

We've been arguing quite intensely with each other lately, apparently due to the lack of compatibility between us.

I remember how desperate I was to find love when I was single back then. Ironically, after having found a seemingly perfect boyfriend, I feel like going back to singlehood.


I can feel that something's not right about my relationship. I'm dragging it on with a lot pain and heartbreaks. If you were to ask me to picture the image of the guy I'd get married to, it's not his face I'd visualize.

Whenever we quarrel, I tend to have the burning desire to break up with him. Sadly, I never have the courage to bring this up to him. And I tell myself that it's okay, Things will be better. Or perhaps, I don't want him to be devastated. Although a break up with him will release me from the immense stress that this relationship has put on me, I know it'll deal a heavy blow to him.

But then, everything has a limit. 

I really hope things will get better.

I'm attached, finally

Am back to blogging again.

I guess the greatest change in my life since I last blogged is that I've got a boyfriend.

We have been together for about 6 months now.

My first relationship ever.

Unavoidably, there have been many ups and downs. Yet, I can confidently say that we're still doing good.

Looks like I ain't that bad when it comes to relationships. Gonna blog more about my relationship in time to come.

By the way, just got back from chilling out with a few friends in Hi-so Pub where the patronizers are mostly gay. Though it's just some obscure pub located in an old building opposite Pavillion, the ambience was great. It felt as though I'd got my gay social life back. Really awesome.

Today's learning point: I should learn to be less self-conscious and just enjoy life.

I'm a bitch

I'm not sure if I have the capability to love.

I don't really know what I actually want. Or perhaps, I'm always in a pursuit of something that only exists in fantasy. A fact about myself that I'm afraid is true.

I used to think that I was some morally high individual who wouldn't get involved in any sex without love. I would  always fantasize of being in a scenario that would involve my having sex with a gorgeous guy and getting dumped by him the following morning. And I'd attempt all sort of tricks to win his heart back only to be rejected in the end.

Ironically, now, I'm the person who gives the other party a cold shoulder after making out. I'm the morally eroded bitch who keeps on rejecting sweet guys who treat me so nice.

God gave me a punishment for being merciless. I've never really met someone with whom I have mutual feelings and near-complete compatibility. There's always something wrong. Either I don't quite like the guy or the guy doesn't quite like me.

F

It was already midnight.

I was partially drunk as he walked me to his car.

Under the faint moonlight, I squinted my eyes and looked hard at the silhouette of the man whom I was on the brink of falling for. And I had the sudden uncanny thought of buying him a bottle of cologne. Perhaps, the one I'm using too.

Just as I boarded his car, he handed a bottle of eau de toilette - F, by Ferragamo.

I was stunned for few miliseconds and laughed at myself deep in my heart.

After he'd dropped me off, I sprinted to my room when his car was out of sigh like a kid with a newly bought ice-cream, and quickly sprayed it on my neck.

Not bad, I thought. Still a little inferior compared to my Clinique's Happy (my most favourite). Yet, I do like the perfume he gave me.

There were a few occasions I disliked certain guys I dated because they didn't wear the right perfume. On the contrary, the right perfume / scent almost always naturally magnifies the liking I have for someone.

To me, smell, does matter.

Sick

I really thought I had dengue fever.

High-grade fever with chills. Headache with retro-orbital pain. Diarrhea and vomiting. Loss of appetite and lethargy. Which perfectly fit the typical presentation of dengue fever.

There I was alone in pitch darkness, covered under my blanket and tolerating what felt like the worst headache I'd ever experienced in my life. Despite the words of concerns that I'd received from McVet and Ambrocius, I couldn't help but feel extremely lonely.

I thought of the old spinster whom I attended to during my 2-week feat in the high-dependency ward. She passed away mainly because of poor family support. It seemed her family members weren't very close to her. She had multiple co-morbidites. Hypothyrodism. Congestive heart failure. Hospital-acquired pneumonia. And also acute on chronic renal failure. And the saddening part was we couldn't dialyse her because no one in her family agreed for it. My specialist said it'd be pointless to dialyse her too if no one's send her for follow-up in future.

I saw her wither away. On BiPAP. Day by day. Occasionally, when I examined her, she'd tell me she wanted to see her elder sister, who works as a dish cleaner in some restaurant. However, there's nothing we could do except to support her the best we could medically.

A few days before I left HDW, her heart just ceased to continue beating.

Obviously, I'm going to grow old like her. Unmarried without offspring. And with family members and relatives I might probably be estranged from.

Will I die as tragically as her? I mean, to say the truth, she would have ameliorated clinically if she had undergone some sort of renal replacement therapy. Yet, when you delve deeper into the social issues of your patients, you'll realize that what you can do as a doctor is limited.

Yeah. I know. It's normal to think of all kind of nonsense when you're sick and alone.

But, thanks God. I got better today. Hopefully, it's just some non-lethal viral fever.

I didn't even have the guts to go have my full blood count and dengue serology taken. Getting warded is the last thing I need at the moment. Guess it's true when they say that doctors make the worst patients.

A day of being a Tai Tai

Had my lunch at Ben's, KLCC yesterday and went to an orchestra after that.

The guy who brought me there explained to me with much enthusiasm regarding the stories behind the pieces. I admit there were awkward moments when I pretended that I understood. Haha. But, on the whole, it's awesome. I didn't feel bored. Very interesting, in fact. I love the posh interior, the graceful moves of the conductor and the performance by the prodigies. Had I learnt music since young, I'd have appreciated it better.

Felt a bit apologetic though because I was late. I didn't know what to wear for an orchestra. Realized that the only pair of presentable pants I got was torn. So, I actually rushed to Zara to get a pair of pants 15 minutes before the orchestra began. I'm sorry, if my vanity annoys you.

Had our astronomically priced British high-tea at Harrods. I had scones for the first time in my life. They tasted marvelous together with some sort of cream with a fancy name I can't remember at the moment. Well, you can't blame a small-town kid who hasn't been to the UK for being excited over scones. 

When I related to Niz about my new passion for scones during dinner, he told me with a tone of scorn that they're sold in Cold Storage. But, I doubt they're as good.

I'm glad to have met guys who bring me to nice places and restaurants that make me feel happy internally. Which also makes me increasingly intolerant towards  guys who actually bring me to KFC on our first dates. Unbelievable. Not that I mind eating cheap food. I certainly can't afford to eat at Ben's and Harrods on a daily basis. Nevertheless, it's the effort that counts.

Drove to Cheras for a drink with my gay doctor friends. Nothing extraordinary. The only thing about it that's unforgettable was Adrian's haughty look on my tummy. Fine. I don't have the flattest tummy on earth. To make matters worse, I've even received comments that I'm a bear in the making. Hot bottoms are just plain irritating, especially during times when my market value is depreciating. 

Never mind. However unattractive and bearish I might seem to certain people, I must have confidence.

 一定要把全场hold住！:)

Too gay

Before graduation, a few close batch mates and I actually vowed to opt for the same hospital ( one of the busiest in JB) for our housemanship.

But then, I betrayed them. 

I appealed for a hospital in KL during our induction programme. And I succeeded. Miraculously.

For 5 years in university, I was tortured by their homophobia. My circle of friends was pretty small and hence, they're the ones I spent most of the time with. 

I totally had no opportunity to display even the tiniest bit of the homosexual part of me.

When I dated guys, I had to choose the perfect timing and location at which I knew they wouldn't appear. I studied in a small town and I didn't want to be seen with a fit and gayly handsome guy. That would raise suspicion, right?

Therefore, 5 years is enough. That's it.

So, here I am in KL, a city bustling with gay life in my home country. The most dramatic thing that has occurred in my life here is that, I don't have straight friends now. I've just realized that. In the past, I used to always lament over not having enough gay friends. Nonetheless, at present, it's the other way round. I only hang out with gay friends. A overly gay phenomenon that worries me.

I don't mix with my colleagues after work. My straight colleagues I mean. Maybe I'm gotten too gay that I've forgotten how to socialize with straight people. 

And hey, I'm still single. Yes, I know. I Grindr. They're so many gay doctors around me. I have a gay roommate. My floor mates next door are gay. The cardiologist is gay. Gay nurses. Gay medical officers. Gay housemen. I see them almost every day. 

Perhaps, I'm just hopelessly obsolete when it comes to love. 

Oh ya, on a separate note, I haven't really been a good boy here, if you know what I mean. Kinda saddening. Coz I'm no longer an innocent guy with cherries no one dares to pop.

Organ donation

That cute, topless Indian guy beckoned me over.

And enthusiastically told me in fluent Mandarin that he wanted sign up for organ donation.

I was moved.

I don't know what it's like to experience years of recurrent severe headache with epistaxis and bilateral ear bleeding and vomiting as well as mild right-sided body weakness with sensory involvement.

Yes, he has a brain tumor. Planned for surgery next year which carries a high risk of post-operative memory loss and further neurological deficits.

And he's only 24. My age.

He said he wanted his organs to continue to live and prolong the lives of others after his death.

His courage and optimism touched the deepest part of my heart. I have a lot to learn from him.

Scrumptious McVet

We went to Frangipani the Friday night before last.

As I boarded the car, McVet handed two mooncakes to me.

I finished the mooncakes the following day.

I felt deeply touched while I was eating them. And I was truly happy.

I was on call during the Mid-Autumn Festival this year. And I hadn't had the time to go buy mooncakes as I was busy preparing for my viva exam.

And right after the festival, no one selling it anymore, apparently. Maybe, I don't know KL well enough to look for them. Was really disappointed and down. I've always been a fan of mooncakes. Ever since I was a kid. And I was thought it's extremely pathetic if one doesn't get to eat mooncakes during the festival.

The only mooncakes I'd eaten this year were from McVet.

How can you not fall for a guy, when he knows exactly what you want and desire?

Of course, I'm not falling for McVet. :) I mean I'm not supposed to. Because it ain't right, morally speaking.

It's my honour to meet you, McVet.

Work, again

My job is sort of a hectic one I guess. I work 7 days a week. Half days on weekends if I'm not on call. I've not applied for a single day of leave. Although Market Place is just 1.2 km away from where I stay, I've only been there once since I started working in June.

It's even worse when I was in the ward 23 in which the consultant would come at 7 am. This means I had to wake up at 5.30 am and punch in by 6 am. Just nice for me to review my patient before he arrived. 

Medicine was kinda frightening in the beginning.Yet, with the passing of time, you know what to do. You roughly know what's urgent and what's not. 

In the Malaysian hospital setting, there's such a word called 'jonah' which literally means bad luck. When people say you're jonah, it means that emergencies tend to happen more when you're on call. And yours truthfully is definitely someone well-known for my jonah-ness. 

I still remember there was once I had to attend to a lady with dengue fever with compensated shock and another woman in the same cubicle with massive lower GI bleed with impending shock simultaneously. And the thing I dislike most is having to attend to patients who need multiple immediate referrals at very ungodly hours. Because it means you won't get to sleep the whole night. 

Despite all the tension, there's joy. I've been working in the coronary rehabilitation ward for the past 1 week. I had a great learning experience. Got to see things like atrial flutter, ventricular bigemminy, sick sinus syndrome and ventricular tachycardia. There's once I did a carotid massage for my patient who developed supraventricular tachycardia (SVT) and it's thrilling to see on the cardiac monitor how it instantly disappeared.

Yes. It's very rewarding to be able to do good to your patients. Simple things like correction of potassium levels and rehydration in dengue fever. Nothing heroic. But, you will feel great because you know you have the ability to help people with your medical knowledge, albeit at the biochemical or cellular level which is not noticeable.

And did I mention about the hot and sweet registrar I've been working under for the past one week? Totally my type. And I even helped him punch in and out. Haha. Perhaps, part of my joy came from him.

Work

I'm working.

Yet, I don't feel like I'm working.

I feel as if I am medical student with many many responsibilities. The good thing is, I get paid.

Haha. However, it's kinda stressful to realize that now, whatever I do or decide, no matter how insignificant it appears to be, does affect my patients. 

Medicine is a unique a profession that involves a lot of sacrifice that other people may not be able to understand. Most of the time, you don't get to wait and see. Many things need to be attended to instantly or as soon as possible, depending of the level of severity, even if it means forgoing a meal or skipping a social function planned earlier.

Well, you'll be surprised how ungrateful certain patients can be.

In the first week of my career, I had two episodes of nervous breakdowns. I cried almost every night. I was physically drained due to the unbearably long tagging hours. And not to mention the culture shock that I, a small town boy, had to face in the city of Kuala Lumpur. 

Adjustment disorder? 

I was on the verge of falling into depression. But thanks God, I survived the most trying period. Never thought that I had that amount of determination and tenacity in me.

I'm fairly okay now, despite the terrible calls I've been having. 

I feel I've aged.

But, I don't feel like I'm working. I feel like I'm doing what I've been given the honour to do. With the limited ability to alter a disease process to a certain extent. Kinda fun. :)

Flirting in Mandarin

                                                            

   

Flirted with a chap on Grindr who apparently doesn't write English. Not even Manglish.

Hence, I had to flirt with him in Mandarin. Only then did I realize it's actually pretty difficult to sound lascivious in my mother tongue, when you remove the auditory, visual and tactile stimuli which are what sex is fundamentally all about. 

I wanted write the word 'horny' in Mandarin. But, I had a hard time thinking of the correct translation. 欲火焚身？No. Sounds too idiomatic. I wanted something dirtier. Something that'd sound more sexually arousing. And for heaven's sake, I didn't even know the informal term for 'cock' in Mandarin. 阳具？Nah. Sounds too academic.

Just when Lucifer Jr. was beginning to get a little aroused, I noticed he'd gone offline. Haha. Couldn't blame him for being a bitch. I guess I was just too slow in replying.

Time to watch more Taiwanese porn, perhaps.

On a separate note, what's your Grindr-ing experience like?

It's actually quite flattering sometimes to receive requests for sex, which sometimes contribute to my having the delusion that I'm hot. For people who often look at their naked selves in the mirror and sigh in exasperation and hopelessness like me, even that tiny bit of confidence is good enough. Occasionally, I may even sound egoistic and indifferent on purpose, just for the fun of it, unless they're really hot and so my type.

One rule I've discovered about Grindr is hot guys are never nice, and nice guys are usually not hot. Guess I'm somewhere in between? And sex, which's what Grindr's principally designed for in the in first place, is almost always an inevitable topic of conversation. 

Gotta be less demanding. Otherwise, I think I'll forever be doomed to suffer the agonizing wait for the appearance of Prince Charming  in my seemingly never-ending bachelorhood. Displaying  the nicest pic which I've got in my entire photo album with the fugly parts skilfully hidden no longer works its magic.

Little things

I'm seldom impressed by popular artists who can sell millions of copies for each of their album, unless they're really talented and extraordinary. No doubt, the songs may be awesome and they do serve their entertainment purposes. Nonetheless, no matter how good they are, it's just their occupation. The same goes for a chef who can cook the most delectable meal on earth or a pianist who can play Moonlight Sonata 3rd Movement flawlessly.

But, I have a soft spot for guys who surprise me with their latent talents, which may be decidedly ordinary but awe-inspiring.

Let's say you're kinda into this cute guy who also happens to be a bit muscular. And then one day, you visit his blog, only to realize he'd posted your most favourite sentimental love song that he dedicated specially to you. Not sure how you'll react. But, I'll definitely search high and low for the 'Marry Me' button.

I came across this interesting blog authored by Chinese Prick in which he recently dedicated a Chinese song to a certain someone. I almost had a semi-erection after listening to it. He ain't an internationally renowned singer. However, it was really touching with his guitar accompaniment in the background. His voice was melodious and resonant and it suited the lyric perfectly.

Click HERE if you wanna listen. (Just in case you dislike it, please don't say nasty things, ok? Coz if you do, I'm gonna dislike you.)

Got what I mean? It's these lil' things that melt my heart. Things like being invited to his house for a meal he cooks, which turns out to be quite palatable, and followed by a session of passionate love-making. Things like receiving a cup Cuppuccino when you're exhausted and least expect it.

I got so hyped up last night and decided to send a certain someone my incomplete, rudimentary and out-of-tune version of Lady Gaga's Born This Way in the form of an audio note over Whatsapp. I had to sing it an octave lower. Surprisingly, I received a pretty nice feedback. Hahaha. He must have been too kind with his words!

Right now, I wish someone could sing me Bruno Mars' Just The Way You Are. *stares at Tuls*

Eager to work

Inexplicably, for the time being, I actually look forward to working. Not sure if it's because of the boredom that's slowly devouring me from the inside or the lack of social life in my hometown.

So, in a few weeks' time, I'll be called for the induction programme, after which I'll start working as a house officer ie. junior doctor, an uphill battle nothing in med school could really prepare me for. Frankly, I didn't graduate from a very prestigious institution. Will I still need to face the occasional jeerings and  blatant discrimination which I've been silently enduring?

Sometimes, you know that the derision or scoffing are not directed at you. But, you still feel the ginormous effect stemming from it. It takes away all your confidence and self-esteem. Ah! If only I was born with a silver spoon in the mouth. Yet, on a positive note, it makes you stronger. In fact, I believe that there'll come a day in future when I can proudly redeem myself and allay their doubts about my competency. 

What's more, rumour has it that compassion and a good attitude are qualities that come first before knowledge. Though I'm not sure what 'good' actually encompasses, I needn't worry much I guess. 

Maybe, I should just keep an open mind and venture into the profession which has partially lost the prestige and nobility it used to have. Having said that, it's still going to be a whole new world with a million things to learn, explore and experience.  And I'll meet new people, make new friends and perhaps, a gay neurosurgeon  destined to fall head over heels for me. Just a joke. But, you never know. And I wonder if the stories of gay housemen banging each other while on-call at night are true. 

Whatever it is, I'm expecting a weight loss of 5 kg in the first month of housemanship and a working environment akin to the gay version of Grey's Anatomy. And I hope I won't become the kind of doctor I don't want myself to be - a doctor devoid of compassion and who denigrates patients behind their backs.

My type

I don't remember attaching pictures of anything humanoid in my previous blog entries. Maybe, this is a good start. 

They're just random guys on Facebook that I find toppish and sexually appealing. They're merely strangers whom I have mutual friends with. Sometimes, it amazes me how on earth my friends get to know these breathtakingly handsome and gorgeous men.

Gay men who look toppish are to die for. Sometimes ( I repeat, sometimes), I can have an erection just by ogling at them on the streets. If the situation allows, I'd even subconsciously walk in a direction that enables enable me to draw freaking near to the target that captivates me at that particular moment.

Whenever someone asks me what the criteria my ideal dating partner should have, I'd just say it's fine, as long as he's top, masculine, doesn't smoke, isn't fat and equipped with a modicum of intelligence. I know, I know. I'm such a hypocrite. Meanwhile, I'm just being realistic, knowing that certain things that I hanker for are just reveries that will never come to fruition. There's only so much you can expect when you aren't a looker yourself. In the love game, certain rules are unspoken and tacit. Love is blind, perhaps only in fairy tales.

In order to make myself sound less shallow and desperate, I have to emphasize here that physical appearance isn't all that matters. After all, beauty is only skin deep.  But, let's not go into that now.

Lastly, if any of the pictures above belong to you, sorry. The reason I published them here is because you look gorgeous (in my opinion). If you want it to be removed, please do let me know.