humidity and nostalgia

the weather has been quite warm and humid recently. a strong reminder that it's that time of year again. every thick morning brings back strong memories of long, endless days of dread. of muted panic and long, stretching days filled with repetition and study. during high school, I consoled myself with thoughts of a new, fresh, exciting future- university. during university swotvac, I looked forward to three months of summer holidays. during my intern year, I looked forward to my days off and a holiday to Japan at the end of it all.

this year, things are completely different. my long, endless period of dread is going to last 11 weeks, for one. that is NOT how it is supposed to be. And yet, it is entirely my fault because I decided 18 months ago that I would some more experience working in a rural town. that feeling persisted for 12 months, but recently I have really begun dreading the move. why couldn't I just stay in some nice, comfortable, familiar hospital job in the city? what's wrong with being surrounded by family, going to end of year parties with old friends, and seeing my boyfriend every week? or even every two weeks? what's wrong with having internet access? sometimes I am too adventurous for my own good. or perhaps I am just getting older now, and being out of my comfort zone is not as exciting as it used to be.

one of many valuable lessons that Medicine has taught me- you never really know what to expect. i have put in special requests for terms that i have ended up hating, and i have pleaded to be swapped out of rotations which ended up become pivotal points in my career. let's see what the next eleven weeks bring.

night doctor

When I was in my final year of university, one of my fears was being called to insert an intravenous cannula into a challenging patient.
Then when I was an intern, handing over unwell patients to the night doctors, I dreaded being the night resident on the receiving end of that spiel.

It's not to say that I've never worked nights. As an intern, emergency department night shifts are compulsory. During my intensive care term, I worked just as many nights as I worked days. My medical roster this year consisted of four weeks of night shifts at a peripheral hospital. All of the above is bearable compared to the thought of being one of a handful of doctors covering a tertiary institution with complex (and crumbly!) patients.

I guess just as all good things (on earth) come to pass, all bad things... come. Eventually. I've done two shifts now, and spent my three days off barely able to leave my bed due to a particularly nasty flu. The one thing that's made it bearable is having company- coincidentally, quite a few of my friends have been rostered on night shifts this fortnight (at a variety of different hospitals). We keep each other sane through the nights.

I have also discovered a new found love of sunrise. I could appreciate the splendour of sunrise before. Now I can also appreciate the relief that it brings.

Here's hoping I'll be well enough for my next two night shifts this weekend.

mid-year pause

I've just enjoyed a blissful week free from the busy-ness of life.

No interview prep, research, work, and study. Correction- only five hours of work on Saturday.

Yesterday, there was no more internet either. The household internet was shaped. Suddenly, my family was catapulted back to a time before the internet.

It's almost laughable, how lost we were. I was so devastated about a world without search engines. My mother could not read news on her iPad. We sat around the table, exchanging stories and jokes. And then we all went to bed at 9:30pm. 

This was a stark change from the events of the preceeding weeks. As in, I was so busy studying for a course that I barely took notice as my father and siblings built a computer for me. One day there were lots of boxes and the next it was a computer.

After my course had finished, I began to transfer some files onto the new computer, and in doing so I stumbled across some unfinished blog entries.

One was from 2010, after my trip to India. I reflected on what a deeply enriching experience it was. To be able to slow down and appreciate life entirely. At first I couldn't understand how it was that villagers would often mill around the few "stalls" in the morning, doctors were allowed home for a one hour lunch break, and people always had time to have evening tea with their neighbours. On top of that, the entire hospital began the day with prayers and a quick sermon. It was life from a completely different perspective.

I wrote "Somewhere along the line, somebody sold me this idea of busyness, whether it was a poster, or in a TV ad, etc., and I've bought into it. Well I've changed my mind, I think it's overrated. Therefore I shall practice being very, very still. Let everybody else do their stylish brisk walking!"

It's interesting, the way we schedule our lives. As a child, time crawled as slowly as I did.

During my teenage years, I would pencil the rare social event into my diary and look forward to it for weeks in advance.

In high school, I would split my evenings into portions of time that matched my allocated homework.

In university, I admired people who seemed to accomplish so much with their time. People who were presidents of multiple clubs, had thousands of social media friends/followers, worked two jobs, played in orchestras, and travelled so often for conferences that they had enough frequent flyer points for their annual volunteer missions trip to some impoverished country.

They were time efficient, I'd decided, and I had the impression that if I did the same thing (that is, throw myself into a multitude of different activities), I too could achieve more that I could fit into my diary.

Well, I was wrong. Apparently, the more I try to do, the less I achieve. If anything, the past few disastrous weeks have definitely shown me that.

It is so nice to be able to step out of the whirlwind of looming deadlines and the oppressive fear of failure.

And while I've stepped out, I may just linger here awhile. Smell the roses. Watch the tulips bloom in Araluen. Feel kaixing's silky fur. Listen to the sounds of stillness.