~Ayyaam min Hayaati~

2009-11-02T07:31:00.003Z

Oh no, blog saya telah diabaikan for more than 2 months now! Apologies for the late updates - everytime I feel like updating my blog, I feel guilty like I should be doing something more productive like revising. I'm in GP Land at the moment, so it's a bit tiring, having to leave sometimes as early as 7.25 am to start at 8.20 (anyone will testify to how crappy public transport is in Preston), and finishing as late as 6-ish (thus getting home at 7-ish). Some afternoons we have revision kat spital until 7.30, then weekends we have revision sesama gadis2 Malaysian Preston. Oh well, bak kata pepatah, berakit-rakit ke hulu, berenang-renang ke tepian. Bersakit-sakit dahulu, bercuti di Mediterranean kemudian.

Anyway, a short update (I'll try to make it short and sweet).

About three weeks ago, I presented my Project Option research poster at the National Medical Student Research Conference in Manchester. According to my (inaccurate) observation, there were a few hundred participants and those who submitted their research/audit abstracts for a poster/oral presentation included people from Manchester (obviously), Edinburgh, UCL, East Anglia, Newcastle, Glasgow, Southampton, Brighton & Sussex (they have a medical school?) and Nottingham. I was the only Malaysian presenting (mainly because everyone else forgot to send an abstract), but I had a whole team of supporters with me! Sarah even treated me with an almond croissant and lemon muffin from Caffe Nero for breakfast (sempat minum tea je sebelum bertolak dari Preston). There were a lot of very interesting presentations and I'm very glad we went. And lagi gumbira dan bangga when each category of oral and poster presentations ada a winner from Preston. The judging and prizes were done by representatives from a few Royal Colleges that were there (did I mention ada doktor yang menang Nobel Prize last year yang bagi opening speech?)

The venue.

My Skechers are no longer presentable, so mesti tukar kasut.

The supporters.

The photographer.

And the judge.

As for my own poster, I wasn't expecting to win any prizes, but I did want the judge to at least get a fair representation of my research. It was a bit unfair, however, for two reasons - Paediatrics fell under the Community Medicine category for the conference, so a general practitioner judged our posters, not a paediatrician; and two, we were really running behind on time and the next session was supposed to start so the judge was in a real rush to assess my poster (I was the last in the morning session). He even said that, "I'm a GP, so I'm only interested in this bit", referring to the neurological outcome of the patients at follow up. The other students who did paediatrics felt the same way about a GP judging paediatrics. But it was a good experience anyway.

Oh yes, sementara saya rajin bercerita ni, I want to talk about final year so far. Personally for me, it's a scary ride. Imagine, we have these last two months to revise all that we've learnt in the past four years to pass our exams before we are let loose in society. I seriously feel the training that I have received is inadequate for me to practise medicine - I might just kill someone (eek!). Salutations to the Liverpudlians who have already passed their finals in the summer (they have finals at the end of fourth year - so glad I didn't go there!). But apart from that, life is ok. I was doing neurosurgery before this, with the nicest ever neurosurgeon, and I got to help press some touchscreen buttons during surgery to help guide the surgeons. One of the ST doctors kept asking me if I wanted to do a lumbar puncture (i.e. stick a huge needle in somebody's back to get some spinal fluid out), but I declined - I didn't want to paralyse anyone! But it's great, two medical students (myself and another girl) getting the attention of at least 7 consultants, a few registrars and a few ST doctors, all of which (except for 2) were males. And now it's general practice, which is cool when you see patients and get to come up with diagnoses and management plans for them and the GP agrees with you. Then it's gastroenterology stuff for a month. Then it's finals (eek!!!). Then it's a month each of chest medicine (breathing problems) and renal medicine (kidneys/buah pinggang), which I think is a shame that it's after the exams rather than before. And then balik Malaysia for electives!!! And and and, provided I complete all my forms, done the portfolio review and the exit interview, I can stay in Malaysia until graduation. Hurrah! After that, I haven't any plans yet, don't want to start work too soon, need a break after such a long journey, before I continue on the path towards becoming a specialist (kalau saya belum give up dengan dunia perubatan di Malaysia before that).

I don't know why I have all those brackets with (lay) explanation of things.

Ahlan wa sahlan ya shahrul kareem!

2009-08-20T17:19:00.003+01:00

This will inshaAllah be my last Ramadhan abroad. Although I will miss fasting with friends and celebrating Eid with the family I made in the UK, I yearn more for the family I have left at home.

Lord of Ramadhan
Make me see the light
From the first day to the last
Your paradise in sight
So I can feel your presence
In the morning and the night.

رمضان روح الرحمن
رمضان شهر القران
رمضان فيض المنان
فتحت فيه الجنان

From Abu Hurairah r.a. that the Prophet s.a.w. said:

من صام رمضان ايمانا واحتسابا غفر له ما تقدم من ذنبه

He who observes fasting in the month of Ramadhan with faith and in hope of reward from Allah, he shall have his past sins forgiven.

(narrated by Bukhari and Muslim)

To all you believers out there, may this Ramadhan bring a lot of goodness for all of us, and may we gain the promised rahmah (mercy), maghfirah (forgiveness) and release from the hell fire.

Demam boleh makin demam.

2009-08-11T09:59:00.004+01:00

In Egypt, there isn't really a GP system in place. So since Kadir has had a high temperature for the fifth day today, I thought seeing a doctor in a hospital for some reassurance would be wise (not that he has the other symptoms of Kawasaki disease, but one of its features is fever of 5 days or more), despite Kadir's reluctance to go. At the end of the visit, baru saya faham kenapa Kadir tanak pergi.

The hospital looked okay inside, despite having to climb three flights of stairs to the outpatients' department/section. After registering and paying 20LE, we waited while the guy who registered us (some kind of medical assistant possibly?) smoked sesuka hati and his fumes swirled into our faces. I feel nauseous already seeing hospital staff smoke inside the allocated smoking area outside the hospital's back door in Preston, but smoking in an air-conditioned hospital room in the presence of sick people is outrageous! But I persisted.

The doctor we saw was a 50-ish guy with a stethoscope hanging from his neck.

"What is your name?"
"Tengku Abdul Kadir."
"What is your complaint?"
"I've had fever for five days, with sore throat, runny nose and cough."
The doctor just nods and asks no further questions.
"Get on the bed."
The doctor touches Kadir's abdomen (inadequately) in three places and listens to his chest in two places on the left side only (considering Kadir's complaining of a cough, I though he'd at least make an effort to listen on both sides of the chest). The doctor then picks up a thermometer which has been lying in a bottle of yellow liquid (dilute iodine perhaps?) and with me praying he wouldn't put it into Kadir's mouth (who knows where that thermometer has been before?!), the doctor sticks it into Kadir's mouth. My God, people have been using the types of thermometer with disposable coverings for ages and he uses the same thermometer in various people's mouths (hopefully mouths only!).

But the most daft thing comes after that. While he writes things on a sheet of paper, Kadir asks, "Is it just normal flu?"
Doctor yang bijaksana itu pun menjawab, "Yes, just normal flu, not pig or anything." Brilliant, boleh exclude H1N1 (with conviction) without asking any further questions or doing a swab. Doctor bijak itu kemudiannya menasihati tiga perkara (while looking at me as well, expecting me to help out I guess). "This condition, 39.5 degrees Celcius, you must...
1. Complete rest in bed (I'm sure you should encourage a bit of mobility - even my mom knows that!)
2. Cold fermentation, by which he means soaking a handkerchief in a bowl of iced water and putting it on the forehead. [Now, listen here, doctor. As far as I am concerned, NICE (which bases its guidance on evidence) does not even recommend tepid sponging, apatah lagi ice cold water! And FYI, the BNF clearly states that iced water should not be used.]
3. Diet. Do not eat anything today while you still have a high temperature. Drink only hot drinks like peppermint tea. After the temperature has come down, then eat only boiled vegetables like potato. After that, slowly eat other food. (Let's see. Kadir has had a high temperature for five days now. So if we followed this advice since the beginning of the temperature, it would be five days of no food. Kadir would probably die of starvation rather than anything else. I'm sure my brother Boy yang bodoh tu pun tau yang tak sihat kena makan even kalau takde appetite as your body needs nutrition to help fight the infection and for recovery.)

And then, lo and behold, despite agreeing that it's just normal flu, doctor yang bijaksana itupun prescribe antibiotics for a viral illness! Oh bijak sungguh. GPs in the UK have been criticised for prescribing antibiotics to kids when the parents demand it in viral illnesses. Ini takde sapa2 push pun, dia sesuka hati prescribe antibiotics. Maybe to make money from the medicines we have to get from their pharmacy.

Now I have met some crappy doctors (like the GP in Colne) but never have I seen a doctor of that age so lacking in history, examination and reasoning like him (I am not even gonna mention communication skills!). A friend of mine once said, "Doktor2 Arab ni pandai, and dia nak cerita semua yang dia tahu" when I complained about one of their orthopaedics surgeons who gave a 2 1/2 hour revision lecture. Trust me, orthopaedics consultants omputih pun tahu sangat banyak benda, but that doesn't mean they have to burden undergraduate medical students with all the knowledge they gained during their years of training in orthopaedics. It's just irrelevant. Anyway, considering my friend said doktor2 Arab ni pandai, I was appalled to see this doctor who in my humble POV, my minuscule knowledge of medicine pun could identify that he was a bit incompetent.

God help us all!

Trust Me, I'm a Junior Doctor

2009-08-10T13:40:00.004+01:00

Excerpts from this really hilarious yet true book on the ups and (mostly) downs of housemanship. Buku ni ditulis oleh doktor yang buat housemanship zaman dulu (a few years ago) when working hours were crazy (before the 40 hours a week limit) and housemanship was just one year.

The synopsis on the back cover:
Trust Me, I'm a Junior Doctor charts a roller coaster journey from idealism to bewilderment as Max realises how little his job is about 'saving people' and how much it is about signing forms and trying to figure out all the important things that weren't covered at medical school - such as how to tell whether someone is dead or not. Max and his fellow newbies grapple with these and other complicated questions of life, love, mental health and how on earth to make time to do your laundry when working 25 hours a day...

Wednesday 13 August
"You need to come and see Mr Clarke. I'm really worried about him. He's getting worse."

Silence. I blink. The nurse on the other end of the telephone isn't giving me any slack. "Er... hmm. What do you want me to do?" I eventually whimper.

"I don't know, you're the doctor. But you'd better do something and quickly."

It's a little after midnight, and I've already been working since eight o'clock this morning. This is the sort of call I've been dreading. At this point I have an almost overwhelming desire to cry, but seeing this is my first on-call, I decide it's probably a good idea to reserve that one for a later date. I arrive on the ward. Only the lights on the nurses' station are on, and there are several nurses sitting around writing notes. "It's OK, the doctor's arrived," I hear one of them say. My spirits lift but I turn around only to realise that they mean me. Oh dear.

Mr Clarke has got terminal cancer and, I learn from the nurse, is really just waiting to die. He's in his late eighties. His eyes are sunken and his face haggard. He's in lots of pain, is having difficulty breathing and, to top it all off, the nurses think he might have had a heart attack.

"Hello Mr Clarke, it's the doctor, what's the problem?" I ask, not knowing what else to say. I pray that he'll make a miraculous recovery as I stand there, but instead his breathing appears to be getting worse.

He looks up at me and in a hoarse whisper croaks, "Help me, doctor. Please."

My mind goes blank. I have no idea how to help him.

It was for the Mr Clarkes of the world that I became a doctor. I naively thought that after doing a medical degree I'd be qualified to help people, ease their suffering. But as I stare at Mr Clarke all I can think of is why does he have to be dying during my shift? Couldn't he have waited?

In medical school we were taught how the body works and how it goes wrong, and then we learned the theory of how to fix it. What no one explained to us is that it's all very well knowing the minutiae of obscure diseases that affect only a handful of people, but that it will be of no use to you when you start work. What you really need to know is the routine stuff: how to put in a catheter, order an ECG, prescribe medication or fill out a blood form, precisely the thing that medical school doesn't teach you [thank God we do learn that in Manchester]. I had thought, erroneously, that these gaps in my knowledge would be filled in before I started work but no one has even told me what I'm supposed to be doing, where I am supposed to be, or, most importantly, how to turn my bleep off. I haven't even had a proper conversation with my consultant yet. You would imagine that you'd be eased into starting work as a doctor - some guidance as you performed procedures you had never done before, perhaps even a little course on common mistakes that kill patients. But oh no, that would be too simple. I don't even know how to use the computers yet, which means I can't order blood tests. As I stand on the ward, Mr Clarke and his problems are not my priority. All I'm worried about is not making a mistake; not getting in trouble. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

What should I do first? I open his notes and my eyes rest on the last entry: 'Contact on-call palliative care team on bleep 0440 if patient deteriorates.' I call the number and with a beam on my face hand over Mr Clarke's care to the doctor on the other end of the telephone. Pass the patient, brilliant. Crisis averted.

A few hours later, just as I finally get into bed in the on-call room, my pager goes off again. I pick up the phone by my side and it's the nurse letting me know that Mr Clarke has died and the palliative care team have just left the ward. "They've left you the death certificate to write," says the voice at the other end of the telephone.

"Oh, em, right. How do I do that?" I ask, trying to remember the lecture we had only a few days ago from the coroner.

"I don't know," comes the reply. "You're the doctor."

Wednesday 27 August
Ruby is in trouble. Not with Housewives' Favourite, in whose eyes she can do no wrong and who I suspect has earmarked her as his next sexual conquest, having - according to hospital gossip [doncha just love hospital gossip?] - already worked his way through all the female members of staff who are continent and with their full complement of teeth. No, she's in trouble with Mr Grant. Lewis was late for a ward round this morning, and while normally the consultants appear oblivious to our presence, let alone show any interest in us, halfway round the ward he turned to Ruby and, in his booming voice, bellowed, "Where's the darky?"

"The darky what?" asked Ruby, genuinely confused as to what he meant.

Supriya and I, who were waiting for Sad Sack to finish on the phone, stood motionless by the nurses' station, listening.

"The black one, you know, the other one that you were working with. Gone back up his tree, has he?" he continued, oblivious to the patients and Ruby's open mouth. Surgeons have a bit of a reputation for being reactionary and rude. Mr Grant, who has obviously graduated from the Ron Atkinson school of political correctness, however, is in a league of his own.

Ruby, never one to turn down the opportunity for a fight, didn't let this go. "What did you say?" she asked, squaring herself up to him.

"Don't make me repeat myself. The other one. There are two of you. Where's the other one?"

"Do you mean Lewis? Your house officer?" asked Ruby, rallying for a fight.

"Whatever his name is, why isn't he here?" replied Mr Grant.

At this point most people hoping, as Ruby is, for a career in surgery would have let things lie. "You can't call him a 'darky'. That's racist. It's disgraceful," she said, ignoring the squeals from the rest of her team for her to leave well alone.

"It would be wise for you to remember your position, my dear," snarled Mr Grant.

"I'm not your dear, and it's racist to call people 'darky'. How would you like it if people said 'where's that fat ugly spotty one?' when they wanted to know where you were.

Mr Grant turned on his heel and went to the next patient.

"And if you listen carefully," said Clive, Ruby's registrar, as they followed behind with the notes trolley, "you can hear the sound of Ruby's surgical career going down the drain."

But Ruby doesn't care. And that's why she's my friend.

Saturday 6 September
Ruby is thinking of applying to Social Services for a home help. We're floundering. There is no food in the cupboards. When we leave for work in the morning, the shops are not open yet, and by the time we get home, they are all shut. We are currently living on condiments, because that's all we've got in the fridge.

Mayonnaise can be very filling when eaten in suitable quantities. But we can't go on much longer like this. Surely we qualify for a UN food parcel drop sometime soon?

Saturday 13 September
Met my mum today for dinner. Didn't have a great deal to talk about. She spent a good proportion of the meal complaining about how much weight I'd lost, as if this was something I had done on purpose.

Thursday 18 September
Much of medicine is about trends: patterns are studied and analysed and the results are extrapolated in order to draw conclusions. As a result, it's easy for doctors to make judgements based on appearance. Certain people develop certain diseases. The prostitute with a cough, for example will have HIV, the eighty-year-old lady with one will have pneuomonia, while the immigrant will have TB. This of course is completely wrong, as we were all reminded today.

While on call last night Supriya accidentally stabbed herself with a needle after taking blood from a patient. He had come in with abdominal pains, accompanied by his girlfriend. Supriya had clerked him in and taken bloods. She was tired and somehow, as she withdrew the needle, it slipped and she plunged it into her finger. She left quickly and ran it under water. The nurses in A&E informed her that there was a protocol to follow and that she should return to the patient, explain what had happened and request that he take an HIV test to see if she had exposed herself to it. Supriya didn't panic - here was a sensible, middle-class man, a stockbroker, in a stable relationship, in a district general hospital. He didn't inject drugs, he wasn't a prostitute, he wasn't gay. What was the worry? He agreed to have the blood test done.

"Sorry, just a formality you understand," Supriya had explained and the man and his girlfriend kindly smiled back.

It was several hours later, while the girlfriend had left the department to get some coffee, that the man asked to speak to Supriya. "Look, I don't want to scare you, but..." Supriya broke into a sweat. "Well, the thng is," he hesitated. "You asked me those questions about have I injected drugs before and stuff like that..." Supriya grew paler. "Well, the thing is, I couldn't say anything in front of my girlfriend, but I have slept with prostitutes." Supriya nodded slowly. "And I haven't always used a condom. In fact, I've been really worried that I might have, you know, well, caught something."

Supriya closed her eyes. "Are you trying to tell me that you think you might have exposed yourself, and therefore me, to HIV?"

The man nodded.

Supriya spent the next ten minutes crying in the toilet. "I just never thought it. He looked so, well, normal. You'd never know that he was at risk of catching that sort of thing. If it had been someone who looked, well, dodgy, I'd have been extra careful while taking their blood," she sobbed as she retold the story after the ward round this morning... It was scary to see Supriya, previously a paragon of control, in such a state. It emphasised the seriousness of what had happened; the possible ramification not only for her health and further personal life, but her career.

I wouldn't have thought that Supriya, so focused and clinical, would have been the sort of person to cry so openly. You should never make judgements based on appearance.

Thursday 25 September
Mrs Mullen has a new hip. She had to wait a year for it, she told me last week, not that she's complaining. In fact when she was on the ward, Mrs Mullen never made a fuss about anything. She just got on with it. She even ate the food without complaint. "I think it's marvellous what they can do these days. I was finding it so hard to get to the shops, it hurt so much, and now I could run the marathon, I tell you."

While grown men have cried when I've taken their blood (I'm being serious here), this woman didn't even like to bother the nurses for her morphine. She even offered to make her bed every morning to save the nurses from having to do it. She's eighty-three for goodness' sake. I'm in my twenties and have fully functioning limbs and I don't make my bed unless my mum's visiting and certainly wouldn't stop nurses from doing it for me.

"I sometimes think that people these days don't know they're born," she said, after hearing the fuss that Mr Lindley in the next bed made when the nurse removed his stitches. "To be honest, I didn't like to take up the surgeon's time getting my hip done, but my niece persuaded me."

I don't think they make people like Mrs Mullen any more. My generation are a generation of complainers. We think the world owes us something. But if the world owes anyone anything, it owes people like Mrs Mullen. She left school at the age of fourteen despite having won a place at the local grammar school. Until she was twenty she supported her mother and four sisters, working in a factory. She worked in the same factory until she retired. She never had a day off sick in her life and never had a holiday. Not even to have her three children.

But Mrs Mullen is no doormat. She makes a fuss when there's something worth making a fuss about. She has been a trade unionist all her life, has fought for equal employment rights for women, and, she told me with a grin, hers was the first in the country to get them. She fought for pension rights and disability payments. "Couldn't take time off in those days to be sick, too much to do. I had to stand up for those girls. The conditions some of us had to work in was dreadful. Wouldn't be allowed now, I can tell you."
...
Being a junior doctor isn't easy. But as far as jobs go, you could do a lot worse. You could work in a factory for fifty years and never have time off. Perhaps if my generation had watched our mothers die of TB we'd be thankful when we got treated on the NHS and certainly wouldn't swear at nurses who are only trying to take our stitches out.

I couldn't believe my eyes today when I went to buy a sandwich from the hospital Friends shop this morning and who should be standing behind the counter but Mrs Mullen. "What are you doing here?" I asked, open-mouthed. "We discharged you last week. You're supposed to be at home, taking things easy."

"Oh I am," she replied. "It's only a few hours a week. I saw the advert for volunteers. It's my way of saying thank you for all that this hospital has done for me."

A box of Terry's All Gold would have done. But Mrs Mullen is the sort of person that gives back more than she takes. I ask for a cheese and tomato sandwich. She hands me egg instead, it's all they've got. I hate egg, but decide to eat it anyway and not complain.

Saturday 11 October
A weekend off but both Ruby and Flora are on call. I stalk around the silent house, looking for something to eat. I wander into Flora's room, heaped with junk, paper, piles of washing and long-forgotten textbooks strewn on the floor. I listen to the radio. I read the paper. I decide I must do something today, reclaim something from the dying embers of the week. But what? Just as I sit wondering if it is too pathetic to go to the cinema on my own, my phone rings. It's my sister.

Now, my sister Ellen is far more intelligent than I am. For this reason, she never became a doctor. Not for her a life of death, depression and sleep deprivation, oh no. She went into recruitment and spends her days finding people their ideal job. Matching employers with ideal employees. It's a normal, 9-to-5 job, sitting at a desk with her own telephone and lunch breaks. Lunch breaks! Imagine that. A whole break, just to eat lunch.

"What're you up to?" she asks with all the bounce and enthusiasm of someone who hasn't spent yesterday with a digit up various strangers' rectums.

"Nothing," I say.

"Cool!" she replies.

God, I hate happy people.

"Want to go out for lunch?" she asks.

"Let me just check my diary, oh no, sorry I can't, I'm dying of exhaustion tomorrow," I say.

She ignores this. "So is my big brother going to let his little sister take him out for Sunday lunch tomorrow then?" she asks. I smell a rat. My sister is only fifteen months younger than I am and only ever acknowledges that I'm older when she wants something.

"What do you want, Ellen?" I ask.

She acts wounded. "What, isn't your little sister allowed to care about her brother? Isn't she allowed to be worried that he isn't eating properly, now that he's a responsible doctor? Isn't she allowed to take him out for lunch in order to build up his strength?"

I'm too tired to bother to remind her that I know her all too well. "OK, I'll see you at The Five Bells at 1 p.m. tomorrow," I say.

I bet she's got a rash or something she wants me to look at.

Sunday 12 October
"Will you just have a look at this?" asks my sister as she shows me a rash on her stomach. I knew it. I look at my watch. It's only 1.10 p.m. She could have at least waited until dessert.

Alright, enough of the extracts. I think I might get RSI now from all the typing. Go read the rest of the book for yourself, definitely a good light read for both medics and non-medics alike!

2009-08-03T17:24:00.008+01:00

A few weeks ago, Kak Apoo and the rest of the kakak2 were making fun of my “Saya tanak kawen, saya kena paksa kawen!” trauma of last year. Things have obviously changed a bit because I am no longer driving people mad with all those tantrums (thank God!).

So where have we gone from where we started?

Well, for one, I don’t think of marriage as bad as I did before, although I still cringe when people start talking about marriage. I don’t go out of my way to encourage people to get married or similarly, to discourage them. When people ask me, I just tell them to think about it A LOT and ask for a lot of guidance from Allah.

After one year, I think the things that kept us going were patience, tolerance and understanding. We are both very different people and yet we accept and celebrate those differences. We both understand that we got married at a relatively young age, and thus we cannot expect solemn 200% dedication and commitment from each other. We both know we have our own unique flaws, so we don’t view perfection as a goal.

To Abang Kadir (as Kak Ning calls him), thank you for being patient with me always… when I sing crappy tunes and you have to pretend to enjoy it, when I spend more time on Ebay and Amazon than with you, when I drool over Orlando, JT, Brad and Abang Hugh and for letting me use a calculator when we play dominoes.

Anyway, we went out for dinner at Chicken Tikka. Obviously we’re not going anywhere exotic or exciting for our anniversary, since we haven’t even had time to go for our honeymoon, so it’s quite wrong to go somewhere nice for an anniversary. But the night before, Asma’ and Syazwan took us out to dinner at a really nice Chinese restaurant, complete with a delicious chocolate cake. Personally, I wouldn’t celebrate a wedding anniversary with other people, but I thought their gesture to celebrate our anniversaries together (plus Syazwan’s birthday) was very sweet and thoughtful indeed.

The ambience.

The menu.

The delicious cake.

Duck in Szechuan sauce (40LE).

Duck in black pepper sauce.

Fried calamari with five spices and mushrooms.

Fried wontons.

The first Chinese/Japanese restaurant I've been to that doesn't offer free refills on tea!

Happy anniversary, Happy birthday and Happy going into labour.

I definitely agree with Confucius - "He who knows how to taste food knows how to enjoy life." I think I want to be a food reviewer when I grow up. I wanna look like Nigella Lawson but eat like Maria Tunku Sabri. Sounds like a great alternative to pretending to save lives.

Halloumi!!!

2009-07-20T19:33:00.006+01:00

With the write up for the project done and sorted, what's left of this damn long 44 weeks of fourth year is the project presentation. Maka bermulalah ketiadaan kerja dan kehilangan arah hidup sebab takde benda nak buat, which thus led to me to explore the kitchen. Which doesn't happen often, obviously, because although my love of food is undoubtable, the kitchen is not the place for me.

So anyway, I managed to force myself into the kitchen to make this. This is by far my favourite cheese in the whole world, and honestly you can cook it any way and it can't go wrong. It's like food porn, except you enjoy it with your taste buds. So this is my first attempt at cooking halloumi. It's a mix between a few recipes that I found, so it's like a halloumi omelette and pan-seared halloumi with vegetables.

Ingredients:
Halloumi (I recommend Cyprus-made Pittas brand halloumi, 250g for 2.23 from Asda and 2.88 from Booths.)
Mixed herbs (thyme, marjoram, oregano, parsley, sage, basil)
Veggies (I used pepper/capsicum, button mushrooms, tomatoes)
Onion
Eggs
Salt and pepper (black and white)
A bit of plain flour

1. Slice the onions (half rings, rings, whatever) and stir fry them in plain vegetable oil or olive oil for added taste. In a bowl, mix the eggs, a bit of grated halloumi, mixed herbs, salt and pepper together, then pour them onto the onions. When it's half cooked (i.e. one side is cooked), transfer it onto an oven tray and grill until nicely brown (not hangit) on top.
2. Stir fry the veggies in olive oil and add some mixed herbs and pepper.
3. Cut the halloumi into thick slices (about 5 mm thick). Dip it lightly in plain flour and shake off the excess. Sear the slices in a bit of olive oil and turn to let the other side cook as well. It's done when the colour is golden brown.
4. Put the omelette onto a plate, followed by the pan-seared halloumi, and lastly the veggies.

Voila! A healthy and filling snack to be shared (four people is ideal) while watching a movie.

2009-06-26T08:15:00.003+01:00

My blog feels like an obituary now.

There's a place in your heart
And I know that it is love
And this place could be much
Brighter than tomorrow.
And if you really try
You'll find there's no need to cry
In this place you'll feel
There's no hurt or sorrow.
There are ways to get there
If you care enough for the living
Make a little space, make a better place.

Heal the world
Make it a better place
For you and for me and the entire human race
There are people dying
If you care enough for the living
Make a better place for
You and for me.

If you want to know why
There's a love that cannot lie
Love is strong
It only cares for joyful giving.
If we try we shall see
In this bliss we cannot feel
Fear or dread
We stop existing and start living
Then it feels that always
Love's enough for us growing
Make a better world, make a better world.

And the dream we would conceived in
Will reveal a joyful face
And the world we once believed in
Will shine again in grace
Then why do we keep strangling life
Wound this earth, crucify it's soul
Though it's plain to see, this world is heavenly
Be God's glow.

We could fly so high
Let our spirits never die
In my heart I feel
You are all my brothers
Create a world with no fear
Together we'll cry happy tears
See the nations turn
Their swords into plowshares
We could really get there
If you cared enough for the living
Make a little space to make a better place.

A Plea for Help.

2009-06-16T20:06:00.010+01:00

Some updates on what has happened since the last entry.

Jenazah Allahyarham Ammar Zulkifli telah selamat dibawa balik ke Malaysia (dengan bantuan JPA) dan dikebumikan di kampung halamannya. Allahyarham was a very much loved friend to many people in Cairo, and many cried for his loss. In fact, the Timbalan Mufti Selangor himself was there to lead his jenazah prayers.

As for the other four - two are still in ICU whereas the other two have been discharged home with minor injuries. One of the students in ICU is still unconscious due to sedation (he had a traumatic brain injury) and the other one is awaiting surgery (currently unstable/unfit for surgery) for multiple fractures (including a fracture of the acetabulum). Although the other two escaped with minor physical injuries, the psychological burden and trauma is immense. All five of them are in the middle of their exams and the two 'well' ones have to sit for exams despite all the events that have just happened. Apart from that, the loss of a very close friend while you walk away relatively unharmed is enough to bring nightmares to anyone. Imagine being the driver of the car and seeing your friend pass away right in front of your eyes from the severity of injuries - what trauma that would entail!

I know this sounds like a horror movie with all the ambulance drama, but that's how the healthcare system works over there in Egypt. Alhamdulillah, JPA is paying for all their hospital bills, which you can imagine is immense (since setiap investigation pun kena bayar). But another major aftermath of all that is that the students have to pay for the cost of repairing the car, which they say 'tak nampak rupa kereta dah' - the sum of which is a staggering LE 25000 (approximately GBP 3000). For students over there who receive a mere income of USD $400 a month, mana nak korek nak cari duit nak bayar semua tu?

A group of their friends are helping them out by asking for donations from those who download a song they created for their lost friend. And here I am, asking you to reach into your pockets for some sympathy for these kids. Budak2 ni memang budak2 baik, semua orang kat sana pun sayang dan kesian kat diorang. And I'm sure for those yang pernah pergi Egypt, you can testify to the generosity of our Malaysian students studying over there. Well, here's a chance for us to show them that we on this side of the world are capable of being generous too.

For those who wish to help, you can donate via my HSBC account with the details as follows, atau melalui Paypal (alamat email hana_shams@yahoo.com). I will inshaAllah bring all your kind contributions with me when I go there in late July.

Name: Miss Z I Asmawi
Account No: 31598813
Sort Code: 400500
Reference: Derma

For those in Malaysia, you can contribute directly into Mohamad Saif bin Jamaluddin's (one of the victims) HSBC account (nombor akaun 311 133 524 025). For those yang bukan di UK, Ireland atau Malaysia, bolehlah menyumbang melalui akaun saya juga (sebab akaun Saif takde 100% details untuk international deposits). Cumanya the details would be as follows.

Full Name: Zaatil Iffah Asmawi
International Bank Account No: GB29MIDL40050031598813
Branch ID Code: MIDLGB2173E

Untuk maklumat lanjut, boleh layari website persatuan pelajar medic kat sana, Perubatan.

I thank you all for your kind thoughts, prayers and every single penny/pence/sen. May God reward you endlessly and make things easy for you as you have done for others. InshaAllah.

2009-06-12T08:45:00.000+01:00

Two days ago, five of Kadir's juniors were involved in a terrible accident on their way to this place called Ain Sokhna. One of them passed away and another two are still unconscious (please pray for them). From his mother's very redha reply when receiving the news, the tears cried by many of his friends, the number of people present at his jenazah prayers and how everyone spoke so fondly of him, I am confident beyond any doubt that he was a good kid and there's only one very happy ending for him. May his soul rest in peace.

Thinking about how their accident happened near Suez gives me goosebumps. We too went to Suez in April, en route to Sinai. We too overtook cars and lorries and buses. There was also a sandstorm brewing when we were in Suez. The only advantage we had was that we all wore seatbelts. Had our worst fears come true during the sandstorm, we wouldn't still be alive and in one piece. And I can't help but wonder if my death would receive a reaction anywhere near Ammar's. I wonder if I will be the al-mustareeh, the one who rests from the woes of the world by passing on, or the al-mustaraah minhu, the one who people gain rest from their demise.

One thing's for sure - people will get a lot of rest from all my talking. I know I talk too much. I just have so many things that I think about, that I feel, that I've experienced and that people have told me, that for some strange reason, I feel like I need to share with other people. Someone once said to me that the problem is that I want to tell everyone everything, so much so that I tell the same people the same things over and over again (though I think my bad memory's to blame here, not my talkativeness per se). In that sense, I kinda think it's good that I have a blog. That way, I can say whatever crap I wanna say without actually imposing on other people's lives and forcing them to listen to what I say.

It's not that I haven't tried cutting down on all the talking, but I think my addiction is even worse than a smoking habit. I've tried to find the root of the problem but I can't ascertain why I talk so much. I've even thought of some kind of genetic predisposition, but even that seems vaguely possible. Not that my parents are quiet people, but even my dad used to say that IBM stood for "Iffah banyak mulut". What I do know is that I can't imagine going through more than 24 hours without talking. And I can't imagine living in Taliban-era Afghanistan when women were not to speak unless spoken to.

I think I have to work harder. I don't want to shut up only because I have no choice when I'm dead. I don't want to burden other people by having to listen to my stories. It's true what people say - some things, no actually most things, are better left unsaid. I wonder if Ayoh used to like listening to my stories. I like to think that he did though.

A classmate of mine used to say, "Banyak cakap, banyak dusta. Banyak dusta, banyak dosa. Banyak dosa, masuk neraka." I don't know if my talkativeness leads to 'banyak dusta', but I do know that I've hurt many people by what I recklessly say.

I think when I die, I will be the al-mustaraah minhu.

2009-06-06T17:01:00.002+01:00

Yay, on holiday again! Well, alhamdulillah I passed both my OSCE and Progress Test, so I do believe I well deserve this break. Mak Abah, jangan marah saya ponteng kelas ya? Orang lain pun pergi bercuti ke tempat2 lagi best (dan tak panas macam nak mati) seperti Paris, Lake District, London dan Edinburgh.

Apart from melarikan diri daripada Project Option for a few days (what an understatement!), there's not much to be done now in Egypt. The weather's scorching hot with temperatures up to 44 degrees celcius! OMG, I just cannot imagine how it's gonna be like in late July nanti - I may just die! The only places I have been are friends' houses to ensure that the new queen hasn't taken over (Yes, the bitch is back! Refer to GG 2x23), and also City Star, one of the biggest shopping complexes in Cairo, just for the sake of getting out of the sun and basking in cool conditioned air. Now this place has like thousands of security guards who oddly enough do not allow photography inside the pretty building, and there weren't any signs anywhere to say so. But the funny thing was that there were loads of 'No Smoking' signs, yet there were loads of people smoking carelessly as if it was their own house and everybody loved the smell of the nauseating gases they exhaled. The even more disappointing thing was that everything there is damn expensive! It's not just the converted price of the RRP of the foreign products, which is already too much considering the average income of people here, but up to double that! For example, the Amlika leave in hair conditioner from Body Shop which costs less than 5 pounds in the UK is a whopping LE110! Even things that were on sale at 50% off were still double the price of the same thing in the UK. What a rip-off! No wonder the people who actually seemed affluent enough to buy anything from the shops were those with American accents saying things like, "You know, I wish I was like, less exposed" or Saudis and their clan from the oil-rich countries of the world. H&M was probably the only shop where prices were just slightly higher than the converted prices. Itupun tak lalu saya nak beli since it's hundreds of Egyptian pounds, which is too big a number for budget fashion like H&M. So I ended up just buying a regular chocolate milkshake from Carvel.

Cepat amek gambar sebelum pakcik guard marah!

Anyway, semasa perjalanan ke sini, I had the unfortunate experience of meeting two groups of very opposite men - one the Caucasian gentlemen, and the latter the slightly uncultured Southeast Asian men. After checking in, I had to drop my backpack for check in at another counter as the bag was too small to be lumped in and squashed by the larger suitcases. Abang hensem yang jaga kaunter kemudiannya berkata, "You have a Manchester United keyring in your bag", which took me a few seconds to register as I was enjoying the view. "Oh yes, shame they lost though." Dan kami (me, abang hensem dan pakcik kurang hensem) pun terus la bersembang tentang kekalahan yang mengecewakan the week before. Now that is the beauty of Western manners - people treat you like equals (most of the time) regardless of race, religion or gender.

When I reached Amsterdam for transit, I passed by two men whom from quite a distance I could recognise their Southeast Asian features, yet weren't sure whether they were Malay or Indonesian. They had long hair, were quite suntanned and looked almost like Indon kerja construction site kat taman perumahan saya dulu. So I tried to look away without being too overt, and the two men started saying "Assalamualaikum" out loud, and yes, in the same intonation as "Assalamualaikum, tak jawab dosa" which is so popular back home. I obviously walked even faster despite their repeated salams and glances at me. Pervs!

Then while queuing to board my flight to Cairo, an undoubtedly Malaysian looking guy stood a few spaces ahead of me in line, and when the line turned and twisted, he somehow ended up standing next to me in line (separated by the line posts). The guy had long hair with sunglasses on his head and had on 3/4 cargos, and I didn't mean to be prejudiced, but after the encounter with those two men, what do you expect a girl to do? The guy just kept looking (more like staring) at me, as if he was either trying to guess where I was from or was waiting for me to say 'hi'. I obviously would not - can't a girl have some pride? Anyhoo, when I finally landed, Kadir told me he was waiting with a guy who was waiting for his brother to arrive from Paris (via Amsterdam). When Parisian guy arrived, salam2 and everything, he told his brother (and Kadir) about budak Melayu sombong yang tak tegur dia and buat tak nampak kat dia. Kadir gelak and asked, "Lelaki ke perempuan?" and he said, "Perempuan." His brother then laughed and said, "Isteri dia la" and dengan muka cuak dia pun cakap it wasn't Kadir's wife he was talking about. Just before they headed off and I was still waiting for my luggage to arrive (why does mine always arrive late?!), Parisian kid again apologises to Kadir reiterating that, "Betul, bukan isteri you tadi tu" as if there were any other Malaysians on board the whole flight. Seb baik diorang dah blah by the time I arrived. Kalau tak, I would probably say something along the lines of, "Ek eleh cakap orang sombong. Dia tu tak tegur orang, pastu expect orang tegur dia dulu. Kalau muka hensem sikit, boleh consider la jugak."

Anyway, kesimpulan daripada cerita bosan panjang lebar ni adalah ramai lelaki Melayu yang tetap berperangai seperti lelaki Melayu tidak kira di ceruk mana dunia ini sekalipun mereka berada.

Righty-o now, must get ready for dinner at another friend's house. Oh, I do love being Blair. Till then, tata!

2009-05-22T21:56:00.003+01:00

Tengok video ni teringat zaman Boy dan Cumai sesat dalam 1 Utama. Bak kata Abah, "Hok bodo bawok hok bodo."

Kakak, ingatlah, pakat2 jago, adek beradek jange kelahi!

Melayu yang trendy.

2009-05-02T14:26:00.001+01:00

Perhatian, ini bukan post mengutuk Melayu. Ia hanya meng-highlight observation2 saya berdasarkan inspirasi daripada Encik Melayu Minimalis just over a year ago. Dalam keadaan saya baru tengah recover from a bad flu, maafkanlah any daftness on my part.

1. The bigger your camera, the better!
Di Malaysia, turnover untuk barang2 elektronik sangat cepat. It always amazes me how quickly Malaysians incorporate foreign technology into their lives, but take ages to learn some positive culture (work ethics, civic-mindedness) from the same people.

Dulu zaman orang guna SLR, it was so bulky and heavy that people moved on to smaller compact cameras. I remember having an Olympus at that time, not because I thought SLRs were uncool, but because my mom never trusted me to use her SLR. Then people moved on to Cybershots and Powershots and their anak-beranak. And now, apparently normal digital cameras are obsolete too, as we welcome the new era of DSLRs! And along with that, everybody starts thinking they can take really good photos from really good angles, so they should make money out of it by becoming wedding photographers (real wedding photographers not included in this).

As much as I hate myself for buying one at a time when everybody else thinks DSLRs are cool, I have an alibi. When my Sony digicam rosak a few years ago, I decided to change brands because as everyone knows, Sonys are annoying in the sense that you have to use only their accessories with their stuff. While waiting for a decision to be made, I got a Cybershot phone, which has okay MPs, but the quality just isn't the same as proper cameras. And then I got a Canon, by the advice of my brother who minored in photography (or something like that). And boy, did life become much better for me! Really nice pics, superb night photography, easily obtained accessories - what more could I want? Until I noticed that for indoor pictures, the colours were a bit off. Which is a bugger since a lot of my pictures are indoors. So terpaksa la saya beli DSLR. End of story.

2. Mari mengambil sebanyak mungkin subjek sewaktu SPM supaya boleh keluar paper.
I believe this started when Cik Amalina decided to take 17 subjects for SPM, mungkin dengan harapan dapat masuk Ox-ford yang akhirnya berkecai. Bak kata mak saya, kalau dah amek Bio, Fizik dan Kimia, amek Sains tu kacang je. Same as those yang dah amek Syariah and Quran & Sunnah, pastu for the sake of menambahkan subjek, amek jugak Pendidikan Islam and/or Tasawur. How much more redundant can one get?

Personally, for me, pengambilan berpuluh2 subjek waktu SPM just shows how undecided you are as to your career path. It also puts pressure on everyone else to take as many subjects as they can, go to as many tuition classes as they can (ada klasmet saya dulu pergi 4 tempat just untuk Matematik Tambahan!) dan menghabiskan masa muda remaja di dalam kereta pi mai-pi mai ke tempat tuition (bak kata Dina). Hats off to those kids who are smart enough (able) to learn many things, but at the same time have enough wisdom to not be wasting time taking too many subjects and actually enjoy their youth.

Dan akhirnya, bila masuk centres of higher education, semua A tu tak dipandang lagi. Bak kata Mr Matias (au kamaa qaal), "I don't care how many As you got in your SPM, it doesn't make any difference from this day forward." All the people I know who actually made it into Oxford, Cambridge and Ivy League-type Unis did not, I repeat, did not take too many subjects in SPM/O-Level/A-Level.

3. Mak, adik nak jadi doktor!
After Malaysia sent her first astronaut into space, I thought orang akan berkejar2 nak jadi astronaut, astronomers, astrologists and kerja dengan Astro. But no, everyone wants to become a doctor! Unless they think that's the shortcut to getting a free ticket to space, I don't understand the craze. Daripada yang sepandai2 manusia sampai la kepada yang results SPM won't even get them into Uni in Malaysia, parents are spending their hard-earned (for some) money and getting loans just to send their kids to every nook and cranny in the world to go through a gruelling 5-7 years of medical school, then to come home (for most) and serve in a not-so-ideal work environment. Why, people, why? Seperti yang saya pernah cakap dulu, if you're after fame and glamour, baik jadi artis. Kalau nak authority, baik jadi politician. Kalau nak kaya, baik la bukak bisnes (my aunt's husband has a successful batik, songket and silk business and he didn't even finish primary school!).

Yes, I do realise that we have a shortage of doctors in Malaysia and we could use all the help we can get. But at the same time, I feel sorry for the people (rakyat jelata) if what they get is poor quality doctors who aren't doing their jobs optimally.

4. Bertunang dan berkahwin perlu va-va-voom!
Orang sekarang kalau bertunang mesti ada majlis besar2an jemput habis saudara-mara, rakan-rakan, jiran tetangga, the chaiwalla from the office dan juga your brother's ex-girlfriend's sister. Itu baru sebelah pihak. Pelamin juga mesti cantik, hantaran mesti berdulang2, make-up mesti by a professional, baju kena tempah from Radzwan Radzwill, dan photographer mesti ada.

Oh, itu baru bertunang! Honestly, qué diablos?

And I feel sorry for those yang tak suka sangat grand2 ni, tapi when the going gets tough, the tough has to get going. It’s difficult not to get caught up inside the web as well. Mediocrity is the answer. Janganlah cheap sangat sampai bagi makan mee goreng or burger je untuk tetamu, but please, I beg you, don’t go over the top.

Bak kata kawan saya (lebih kurang), "I'm so glad I'm already married and done with. Kalau tak, mesti kalah in the competition."
Me, too, dear. Me, too.

5. Handphone sapa paling canggih?
Dari dulu sampai sekarang, I never understood this trend. Budak2 sekolah yang konon takde duit sampai dapat biasiswa, but what do they do with it? Oh, mesti la beli handphone! Budak2 post-SPM yang dapat PTPTN, first month mesti la update handphone! Sungguh janggal dan agak tidak malu kerana meminjam duit untuk belajar, kemudian terus guna duit untuk stay up-to-date, then bila jumlah pinjaman menimbun2, menyumpah seranah PTPTN sebab caj korang for the loan.

Saya agak lega sebab dari zaman saya first start pakai handphone dulu (handphone Motorola baling anjing pun mamp*s) sampai sekarang, I consciously try not to be a follower.

6. Kamu ada blog, saya pun nak berbelog la!
Dari sekecik2 budak sampai setua2 nenek saya, dari manusia yang paling takde life di dunia sampai la yang hidup semua orang pun envy, rakyat Malaysia suka berbelog sekarang. In a way, it's good, coz a lot of people post interesting and entertaining things on the net for the benefit of other readers, thus making Malaysians a lot more knowledgeable. But budak2 sekolah yang menghabiskan masa di internet untuk menceritakan tentang their oh-so-wonderful love life and budak2 perempuan kelas sebelah yang bitchy (pastu bila results hampeh, mak bapak hantar buat medicine overseas), please la have a little pride!

Mintak maaf kalau ada yang terasa. Kalau anda ada pemerhatian lain tentang trend2 terkini orang Melayu/Malaysia, silalah add sesuka hati.

2009-04-26T19:54:00.005+01:00

Yes, I have come back from my very much needed one week break. There are too many stories to tell, so I’ll let the pics (Facebook, Friendster) summarise everything for me. But there were two close-to-death incidents which I’ll briefly talk about.

On the way to Sinai, there was a sandstorm. Now it wasn’t just any average sandstorm – visibility was reduced to probably a maximum of two metres, with no street lamps of any sort (kedekut betul kerajaan Mesir!) and we couldn’t see cars from the opposite direction until they were almost right next to us (seb baik next to us and not in front of us!). There were times when I wanted to ask Kadir to just stop the Avanza by the side of the road and wait for the storm to dissipate. But then that would be too dangerous as the cars behind us wouldn’t be able to see us until they were really close, so they would probably drive straight into us. Sarah kept thinking about how her mum would be tossing and turning in her sleep, and true enough, her mum texted to check if she was safe. I kept thinking that if I die, I’ll die with Kadir, and Fatimah would die with her mum, but I felt sorry for everyone else in the car who didn’t have family with them in their last moments. Everyone stayed awake during the storm, though some pretended to sleep so that they wouldn’t have to see how scary it was, and everyone was saying their prayers as if it would be their last.

Suez: The sandstorm as it was just beginning.

The second was obviously climbing up Mount Sinai a.k.a. Jabal Musa. That was the worst episode of breathlessness and chest constriction I have ever felt. There were many times when I could hear myself wheezing, and there were many times that I felt I should just give up. In the end, I’m not sure if all the pain was worth it, but oh well, I reached the summit anyway and managed to get back down despite aching heels and trembling knees.

Told ya I almost died climbing the 2,285m mountain!

Apart from those two not-so-nice things, we all had a wonderful time in Egypt, especially when you’re there with fun people and have a really cool driver, tourist guide, mountain guide, translator, photographer, penjaga beg, ... And meeting some very nice people and of course the superb array of food available!

And now what’s left is waiting for the OSCE results to come out (another close encounter with death perhaps?), applying for electives, writing up my 5000 word SSC (ICU consultants/anaesthetists are so cool!), doing 11 weeks of research and a 10k word write-up, crappy reflective pieces for portfolio, reading journals and various papers, finishing a book, revising for Progress Test in 3 weeks, starting revision for the real thing (the final of all finals!) in January and if time permits, posting some previous ramblings here. Too much reading and writing to do - I’m sure that’s enough to keep me occupied before summer holidays (which is a loooong 13 weeks to go!).

Oh, and good luck to Munzir and friends for your finals! As much as I hate you kids for graduating before me, I’m kind enough to pray for your success. Allahumma yassir!

I'm leaving on a jet plane...

2009-04-09T22:31:00.003+01:00

... with my darn expensive love child, Kayla! But oh well, bak kata Kak Ning, you need to have a good camera to take on holidays. Kalau tak, sia2 je pergi jauh2 habis duit banyak2 tapi bila balik, tengok gambar2 semua crap.

Marilah pergi jauh2 dari sini untuk melupakan the pain that was the OSCEs. Paediatrics was a complete disaster, so I now have to consider a change in my career options because I now hate kids. And I also hate pregnant women because I couldn't feel her baby's back which ruined the station for me.

Venice of the North, here we come!

2009-04-01T07:36:00.000+01:00

With the Paediatrics and Obs & Gynae OSCEs just days away, I see a mid-life crisis brimming over the edge. You start getting menopausal symptoms like hot flushes, sweats and mood swings. And you start panicking about very relevant and currently irrelevant things like...

- OMG! How did I learn the whole of adult medicine shrunk for kids plus communication with parents and all other issues regarding kids like child abuse, development and learning difficulties in 6 weeks and are now expected to deal with them in exams???

- OMG! Why did I choose a university in which we have to come up with our own learning objectives, go home, look it up in some books and the internet and voila, that's the majority of our medical education! I might as well not have gone to uni and just bought some medical books if I wanted to learn medicine on my own! At least I would have saved the government some money which they might have used for the people.

- OMG! I just finished my last proper placement for clinicals and am practically supposed to know (almost) everything there is to know before I qualify as a doctor. But I don't, so I'm not safe enough to be one, but then the finals are in less than 9 months and then I'll graduate if I pass, and then how am I supposed to go home and work when I don't know enough???

- OMG! Banyaknya isu public health and health education nak kena address bila balik Malaysia. OMG! Banyaknya corrupt people working in the healthcare system! OMG! Camana nak balik kerja kat Malaysia tanpa rasa tension/give up hari2???

Exams in medical school are very depressing and demanding. When we were in school, study skit2 then boleh target A1 or A2. Masuk KMB, most of the time it was between a 6 or 7 (except Maths obviously), and still banyak masa untuk ada social life (lepak2 kat Alamanda, Midvalley, KLIA) and skodeng budak laki main bola hari2. But masuk je medical school, you have to work so so damn hard just to get a low pass! Rasa macam makin besar, makin bodoh. And bila fikir you're doing all this just to go back to Malaysia where life is even more difficult for junior doctors makes you wanna hang yourself. Life isn't fair!

But then, as Sorin my Obs & Gynae registrar (yang dulu main bola untuk Romania's under 18s) says, "So what if you fail the exams, at least you're much better off than people dying of cancer."

Oh dear me... What other choice do I have than to study hard and manipulate everyone/everything within reach for my advantage.

Face the facts - life sucks.

2009-03-24T21:36:00.007Z

Know that life isn’t a bed of roses. You cannot and will never have all the good things in life. If you never taste the bitter, the sour, you won’t know how to appreciate the sweet, the luscious. Sometimes it is a matter of either/or, one or the other.

Sometimes you have to sacrifice the bigger things and instead take in the value of the smaller and seemingly less significant things. Sometimes we do have to acknowledge the theory of utilitarianism, better still is altruism. Sometimes giving up something for the greater benefit of others is the right thing to do. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the past for the future, the near future for the distant future, and the distant future for the everlasting future. After all, what are the pleasures of this life, except temporary enjoyment and relief.

And maybe, just maybe, if you give more, you will receive more, even if you can’t see any of the rewards in this short life.

If only life was as simplistically beautiful as these karipap pusar that Kak Ning made for me.

2009-03-07T18:17:00.005Z

Hari in berHealth Mela, iaitu satu program health promotion yang best (yang telah menginspire kami berSehat Sokmo di Kuala Terengganu last summer). This year I had to join the program in Chorley instead of Preston, coz the one scheduled for Preston is too close to exams. There weren't so many people, probably since this is the first time it's done in Chorley dan al-maklumlah orang2 Chorley kampung skit, which thus made it a bit boring really (especially since takde inai tangan stall macam kat Preston!). But the advantage was that we had the chance to get an MOT check ourselves. Nasib baik Sarah and I have the same problem when it comes to finger pricks, so we went to do it together (yes, it was embarassing and the biochemists couldn't understand why medics could be that gay). Anyway, I'm quite glad I did the check, coz even though the news wasn't too good, I would rather find out about it now rather than later so I can do something to improve things. Saya sungguh dukacita apabila mengetahui cholesterol levels saya slightly above normal lalu menyebabkan 10 year risk of cardiovascular event saya menurut Framingham calculator menjadi 0.1%! Atas kesedaran itu, saya berazam mahu menjaga makan dan berexercise supaya dapat menurunkan cholesterol levels saya dan juga supaya dapat muat skinny jeans baru. And of course I had to make myself feel better after the shocking news by buying a new pair of Clarks shoe boots. Oh yeah!

Fatimah berflirting dengan pakcik ni, Aishah pula berflirting dengan mamat ala2 Fazley.

Sarah gembira melayan orang2 tua.

The bike that Aishah is on is supposed to power a smoothie maker, but it broke.

Makcik bellydancer yang hot sedang mengajar members of the floor. Kalau tak kerana Dr Raj kata "you're really enjoying this, aren't you", pasti saya join juga.

And the gorgeous Sha telah selamat dinikahkan dengan Syarul di Masjid Terapung (dah bapak dia design...) dan juga telah selamat berkenduri dengan theme Melayu tradisional di Aryani. Serius cantik, macam Puteri Gunung Ledang! Jeles sungguh tengok bridesmaids dia yang chantek2 juga.

Maafkan Fateem kerana pakai jeans di majlis akad nikah, dia baru sampai dari KL.

Comel lote blake! (Kasut Syarul tak ikut tema Melayu tradisional, sepatutnya pakai capal!)

Anak2 dara, sudah besar, mahu kahwin.

Nak balik, nak balik!
(Ketahuilah, tidak pulang ke tanah air itu sesuatu yang tidak sihat kerana ia boleh menyebabkan seseorang binge shopping dengan dahsyatnya!)

Saya tidak pulang tahun ini...

2009-03-06T16:44:00.007Z

Selamat berkahwin to my two very dear friends, Sha (tomorrow) and Ada (next week), and also my cousin, Ijudin Fahmi (almost 2 weeks lagi). Siapa sangka, the girls yang paling nakal and promiscuous (we were called Casanovas and Supercasanovas) di sekolah dulu would be among the first to settle down. But that doesn't mean kami dah bosan bermain-main!

Two down, two in a week, four tak lama lagi. Tinggal dua yang status tak dapat dikenalpasti, dan tiga yang ready to mingle. Cepat cepat, sementara stok masih ada! (Dua orang bawah umur di dalam gambar ni ya! Makcik Tina juga tak termasuk.)

Tiga-tiga datang wedding saya, tapi wedding ketiga-tiga pun saya tak dapat attend. Oh, I hate being so far away and missing out on the important events in the lives of those I cherish most. Life sucks.

2009-02-25T19:39:00.002Z

This entry is dedicated to those yang berbirthday 21st, 22nd and 26th February. Namely Hanisah, her tok laki and my brother who just got a new Dell laptop (benci la!).

With prayers of enduring prosperity, eternal bliss and a life bountiful of love and promise. Oh, I couldn't say things any better than Rascal Flatts and the Irish blessing, so I'll let them do all the work.

I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow,
And each road leads you where you wanna go,
And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.
And if one door opens to another door closed,
I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window,
If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile.
But more than anything, more than anything...

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish.

I hope you never look back, but you never forget,
All the ones who love you and the place you left,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance you get,
Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake,
And always give more than you take.

May you always have walls for the winds,
A roof for the rain,

Tea beside the fire,
Laughter to cheer you,

Those you love near you,
And all your heart might desire.

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields,

And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

May you have love that never ends,
Lots of money, and lots of friends.
Health be yours, whatever you do,
And may God send many blessings to you.

May the sun shine, all day long,
Everything go right, and nothing wrong.
May those you love bring love back to you,
And may all the wishes you wish come true.

May you have A world of wishes at your command,
God and His angels close to hand,
Friends and family their love impart,
and Irish blessings in your heart.

May God grant you many years to live,
For sure He must be knowing,
The earth has angels all too few.
And heaven is overflowing.

May you have the hindsight to know where you’ve been
The foresight to know where you’re going
And the insight to know when you’re going too far.

May God grant you always
A sunbeam to warm you,
A moonbeam to charm you,
A sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you.

May you have warm words on a cold evening,
A full moon on a dark night,
And the road downhill all the way to your door.

May your pockets be heavy and your heart be light,
May good luck pursue you each morning and night.

For each petal on the shamrock,
This brings a wish your way,
Good health, good luck, and happiness,
For today and every day.

May the embers from the open hearth warm your hands,
May the sun’s rays from the Irish sky warm your face,
May the children’s bright smiles warm your heart,
May the everlasting love I give you warm your soul.

May you always have work for your hands to do,
May your pockets hold always a coin or two,
May the sun shine bright on your window pane,
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain,

May the hand of a friend always be near you,
And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks,
May your heart be as light as a song,
May each day bring you bright, happy hours,
That stay with you all the year long.

Lucky stars above you,
Sunshine on your way,
Many friends to love you,
Joy in work and play,
Laughter to outweigh each care,
In your heart a song,
And gladness waiting everywhere
All your whole life long.

May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow,
May the soft winds freshen your spirit,
May the sunshine brighten your heart,
May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you,
And may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.

May you live a long life,
Full of gladness and health,
With a pocket full of gold,
As the least of your wealth.
May the dreams you hold dearest,
Be those which come true,
The kindness you spread,
Keep returning to you.

May the friendships you make,
Be those which endure.
And all of your grey clouds,
Be small ones for sure.
And trusting in Him,
To Whom we all pray,
May a song fill your heart,
Every step of the way.

Contemplate before you procreate.

2009-02-19T05:48:00.007Z

Working in Obs and Gynae (and Paeds previously) has brought to my attention many infanthood and childhood problems (medical and psychosocial) associated with a lack of parenting skills. Muslim ke tak Muslim, there are many not-too-good (bad sounds too harsh) parents in the world. Bukankah budak yang dah beberapa kali admitted sebab overdose tu datang dari family Muslim? And I attribute one of the causes of that to the fact that many of these parents were caught off guard and were not adequately prepared to conceive or bring up a child. And thus resulting in accidental parents – like Rick Warren said, there’s no such thing as accidental children, but there are accidental parents. Au kamaa qaal.

I might be wrong. People may actually put some thought into the pros and cons of having a baby in their circumstances before they actually go on and make babies. But as far as I’m concerned, as far as I have seen, many of us don’t. I don't want to go into detail pasal the locals sebab terlalu banyak kes, but among Malaysian students je, berapa banyak yang one parent terpaksa berhenti/tangguh belajar sebab nak jaga anak? Berapa banyak yang kena bertungkus lumus bekerja (sambil belajar) nak sara hidup anak bini? Berapa banyak yang kena hantar their small babies to live with their parents (baby’s grandparents) because they can’t afford to raise their child? Which I fail to fathom, as we put so much effort and consideration into getting married (oh, every single detail from finding the right guy/girl to what colour headband the flower girls should wear!), but for something that’s just as important, like bringing a new life into this world, we just let it happen by chance.

The cost of bringing up a child is nowhere similar to the cost of living for an adult. A pack of 40 Huggies diapers costs about 7 pounds, and will last probably 2 weeks at most (branded female sanitary towels cost only 2 pounds a month). A box of powdered infant formula (of a reasonable brand) costs about 7 pounds per week (a bottle of fresh milk for a week is less than a quid). Tu belum masuk bottles and feeding paraphernalia, pushchairs and carseats, cribs and cots, clothing and bathing, and of course toys to stimulate the child’s brain – most of which need to be changed every few months with the evolving needs of a growing baby. And of course the expensive price of daycare/nursery!

Raising and caring for a child requires a lot of time and patience. Among other things, changing nappies, feeding, cleaning up the child and the messes they make – all of those take up at least double the time needed to care for yourself. Sleep, your only asylum from the day’s turmoil, will be severely compromised. An infant normally wakes up a few times in the middle of the night (many more times when they’re ill), and of course you have to wake up and respond to its needs. Even if you have to get up a few times in the middle of the night when you have a waterworks infection, people become slightly more irritable and cranky the next day. Imagine the mood and counterproductivity of the following day if you have to get up to feed a baby or change the nappy!

Ini belum masuk bab physical hardships of pregnancy, labour (sakit nak mamp*s!) and running around caring for a baby lagi ni. Haih…

But that is just my opinion as a naïve person exposed to the medical side of things. I probably don’t understand the ultimate joy and bliss that comes with all that strife. Like they say, no pain, no gain. The worst pain I would go through for a good gain is piercing my ear. I would like to quote David Cameron, “of course the birth of any baby is a joy”; but please give it a lot of planning and consideration prior to saying “dah rezeki Tuhan nak bagi”.

So it may be none of my business – let other people sort out their own lives. But when people come up to you ‘pretending’ to be concerned that they might get pregnant because they’re not using any form of contraception but then do nothing about it and go on to have a baby, it slightly annoys you. Or when you know your friends are struggling (though they try to conceal it as much as possible) with the stresses of finances, time etc, it does pain you to just look on, and you can’t help but think things would be easier for them if a little effort was put into preventing such a crisis. Or when a case like Alfie’s (and the many other teenage pregnancies which aren’t in the spotlight) happens, you do wonder what is wrong with the society today. For God’s sake, the kid didn’t even understand the question “What will you do financially?” So dad gives you 10 quid sometimes – what are you gonna feed the kid on? Fish and chips? Poor taxpayers, they have to work their arses off to fund the lives of people who allow kids to have kids. And the vicious cycle continues.

Don’t get me wrong – if you want to have kids, by all means, go ahead. Go ahead when you have enough money to support yourself and the baby without needing too much outside help; when you have enough time to dedicate towards caring, nurturing and educating a child; when you have enough wisdom to make decisions for yourself, your child and your family, for both the present and the future; when you have all that it takes to make a purposeful and healthy human being out of your gonads.

Just because you’re good with kids, are a good person and really want to become a good parent, your fairy godmother can’t just wave her magic wand and make you one. There’s a whole lot more to pregnancy and parenting than that. Alfie has all those characteristics, but can you actually believe that he will be a good parent? I think not.

I rest my case.

Budak2 memang cumil. Tapi berfikirlah sebelum bertindak.

N.B.: For those yang memang dah plan for a baby and have thought about it thoroughly, my sincerest congratulations. And for those yang sudah terlajak perahu tak boleh diundur tu, by all means, seek help when you need it. Don’t leave problems too late sampai pening kepala semua orang. Whereas for those yang belum terkena, please take care. Patient.co.uk provides a good resource for simple guidance on contraception. (Saya menyampah orang yang duk risau side effects of contraception tapi tak takut pulak the many many MANY side effects, problems and complications associated with pregnancy and childbirth.)

Feature article

2009-02-13T20:43:00.003Z

Those who seek justice do so in vain

by Yasmin Alibhai-Brown

Up to 60 per cent of the best farmland in Gaza has been systematically destroyed, livestock too. Christine van Nieuwenhuyse, a director at the World Food Programme, says this deliberately blighted land "may not be exploitable again". The lemon trees and noisy chickens must have been hiding Hamas rockets. Israel is also keeping some of the remaining arable land beyond the reach of the Palestinians who own it by making it into a buffer zone. Almost all the infrastructure has been flattened too. The resulting perpetual humiliation and dependency, one assumes, is part of Israel's strategic plan.

President Obama has sent forth George Mitchell, a skilled and respected negotiator, to start dialogues that could eventually lead to a durable settlement. We must hope he can achieve the impossible. But even if he does, that alone cannot ensure the kind of peace that all the people in that region sorely need and surely deserve.

There is too much unfinished business, too much reckoning left over. Peace without equality and credible scrutiny is itself a violation of human rights, an affirmation that some nations are beyond the reach of the law. Mitchell would not have been able to achieve peace in Northern Ireland if Britain had, with impunity, bombed the Catholic areas and slaughtered civilians. Israel is today a ruthless nuclear state, with arsenals of artillery, missiles, chemical and biological weaponry. It respects no international laws and conventions (originally set up to stop Jewish persecution) and does what it pleases.

But why pick only on Israel? Western nations, including Britain, supply some of the killing machines used on children in Gaza. The US and UK have never been hauled through any independent judiciary to explain their lies spun to justify the war on Iraq, or the cluster bombs dropped on civilians, the massacres in Fallujah, the million dead and many more who are born deformed.

We may at long last learn about what happened in the run-up to the war in Blair's cabinet meetings. Many of the ministers who colluded – Hoon, Straw – or acquiesced have gone on to further great success. As have several "ethnic minority" MPs and Peers always happy to oblige. Blair has enriched himself faster than any recent British PM I know of – an indication of how low is his sense of public morality and of those who pay him for his services. All is forgiven and forgotten. He is even our most trusted Man in the Middle East – who must have known about Israel's plans in Gaza and did F all.

Henry Kissinger is in the same happy position. Instead of being tried for actively supporting Pinochet, bombing Cambodia etc etc, he became a sought after statesman, rich and famous enough to stroke the fair arms of Princess Diana. How shocked he was when, a few years ago, Jeremy Paxman interrogated him on Start the Week on his unethical foreign policies. (Paxo's finest hour in my view) and Kissinger walked out of the studio. Such men do not expect to answer such questions. They are above all that. Watch this space and George Bush Jnr will be raking in loot and obsequies. That is what power gets you – immunity and pleasures untold.

We are still basking in Obama's radiance and are heartened that he so soon announced the closure of Guantanamo Bay concentration camp. But again that cannot be the final word on the crimes committed there. The men evoked by the new American president would understand why. Thomas Jefferson's words at his own inauguration speak up clearly from the grave: "Equal and exact justice to all men... freedom of the person under the protection of the habeas corpus and trial by juries impartially selected – these principles form the bright constellation that has gone before us".

Martin Luther King also warned: "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice around the world." The west too often fails these truly noble ideals. What happens to those who established the camp and its methods? To the torturers and prison guards? Binyam Mohammed, a British resident is said to be close to death and may well leave in a coffin. But apparently nobody is responsible.

Only Third World and ex-Communist bastards ever get to face international condemnation and trials. If the Sri Lankan government carries on shelling Tamil civilians, it will be ( rightly) censured and held responsible by the UN and other bodies. Not so-called "leading nations" when they ignore binding conventions. Sure, a few unfortunate soldiers or policemen are forced through weak, domestic investigations to prove that rule of law is respected. They are merely sacrificial goats. People of real of power or influence in the west or Israel, or Russia, now China and India, know they will never be dragged off to The Hague.

Corrupt individuals with the kind of money that makes western politicians salivate are always safe and clean. Accountability will not come knocking at their doors. The freemasons making torture equipment and arms thrive, protected in perpetuity by official secrecy. Individuals in those hidden crypts will never stand in the dock. Peace without fairness and due process is worthless. Even in South Africa, where Mandela virtuously put reconciliation before justice, furious urban blacks still feel that the settlement on that basis was profoundly unjust because whites who cruelly administered Apartheid policies got away with it.

Millions around the world, the young in particular, will not accept that double international standards are as immutable as laws of nature. They are now connected up, sharing rage and frustration. The beneficiaries are Mugabe (a hero for many), Bin Laden, Hamas, suicide terrorist cells, violent nihilists and real anti-Semites. And so there will be no peace. The great anti-slavery judge William Mansfield said in 1768: "Fiat justitia, ruat coelum" – Let justice be done, though the skies may fall. If the powerful don't understand that, they deserve the contempt increasingly heaped on them.

N.B.: Abah, you can no longer say this blog is badly constipated.

Kipas yang mengkonfiuskan.

2009-02-11T20:54:00.004Z

Saya tau penggunaan kata nama tersebut agak racist, namun tiada istilah lain yang berjaya saya fikirkan supaya mereka tidak sedar yang saya sedang mengumpat mereka. Perkataan itu merujuk kepada semua (generalisation) orang yang beragama Islam di kawasan Asia Selatan. Dan ketahuilah, ini bukan entry bitching about other people, but more of an analysis of my observations, dan sebab saya dah bosan terpaksa menjawab bila orang bertanya or buat muka confused.

Kadang2 saya rasa kipas ni macam Melayu - suka mengkonfiuskan orang yang bukan Muslim di tempat tinggal masing2. Mungkin secara tak sengaja. But they even confuse me regarding their actions, apatah lagi omputih2 dan non-Muslims all over the world, especially in Western countries. Which is very sad, considering they make up the majority of Muslims in the UK (and many other Western countries), thus whether we all like it or not, they automatically become the ambassadors of the Muslim faith.

Tak caye? Then allow me to elaborate.

1. During a child mental health session recently, we had a discussion on a child who presented with psychosomatic symptoms due to the breakdown of her family, in which the mother had been depressed for many years due to being forced to leave India (and all her family) to marry a guy she didn't know (at the age of 16). And lo and behold, everyone is blaming arranged marriages, which everyone associates with Islam. Geram saya, rasa nak ketuk2 je kepala orang2 yang buat orang lain salah faham terhadap Islam ni. As far as I understand, there's a difference between family arranged marriages and forced marriages. But the kipas manage to make it the same thing. I mean, there's nothing wrong with arranged marriages, but you cannot force your daughter into marriage. There are clear sunnahs of the Prophet s.a.w. that reveal that women shall not be forced into marriage with someone they dislike.

From Al-Khansa’ bint Khidam:
My father married me to his nephew, and I did not like this match, so I complained to Allah’s Messenger s.a.w.. He said to me: "Accept what your father has arranged." I said, "I do not wish to accept what my father has arranged." He said, "Then this marriage is invalid, go and marry whomever you wish." I said, "I have accepted what my father has arranged, but I wanted women to know that fathers have no right in their daughter’s matters (i.e. they have no right to force a marriage on them)."

(Reported by Al-Bukhari)

A friend told me of a friend of a friend (sanad panjang skit) who was forced to marry a guy and was denied furthering her education. Although she begged and begged her parents, they persisted. Girl goes to live with husband's family, turns out guy also didn't want to marry girl coz he had a girlfriend (and continues to see her), in-laws treat girl like crap and don't let her go home, girl's parents don't attempt to contact her so have no idea she's living in hell, girl has 3 kids, et cetera et cetera. End of story, guy insists on marrying girlfriend, girl asks for divorce, girl is now 24 and is taking classes to get qualifications for a job to raise her 3 kids. And trust me, this isn't just a rare occurrence. I was in a mosque once and a girl (she was younger than me) came up to me asking about how marriages happen in the Malaysian culture (i.e. are they arranged?). Then she started talking about how she was forced into marriage, had a couple of kids, then got divorced coz useless husband, and was then trying to enroll into a nursing course. On the other hand, her sister was happily married to a man of her choice, but of course had to pay for it with disownment by their family and community. Yeah, I was surprised she would disclose that to a complete stranger, but that showed how desperate she was to share her sad story.

You'd understand the young-ness of the bride if they were living in a rural area in an undeveloped country, where you have nothing to do besides getting married and your parents can't afford to support you for long. But for cases like these, it's a waste of intellect to stop the girl from an educational opportunity just to force her into marriage. Pastu bila dah bercerai or suami tak guna tak support financially, the wife terpaksa start belajar balik (while keeping the home and caring for kids) so that she can get a job. It's pathetic. And I'm not saying you can't marry and have kids at a young age, coz UK has the highest rate of teenage pregancies in western Europe. The problem is when you stop the girls from learning important life skills through basic education (or further education for those yang more privileged). It's not like you can't do both at the same time. It doesn't only ruin the whole familial institution, but also gives a bad impression on society that Muslims are backwards people who force their daughters into marriage at a young age and don't let girls learn (kalau budak tu sendiri yang gatal sangat nak kawen macam adik saya, lain cerita ).

2. Numero dos, consanguineous marriage. During genetics teaching hari tu, the registrar said that consanguineous marriage is "common in Muslim cultures". Obviously muka saya berubah sampai SpR tu tengok saya and asked, "Is that right?" Maka saya berpeluang la untuk cakap, "No, I think it's more of cultural practices in the Indian subcontinent. It's not a Muslim culture." What the heck? In Islam, people are encouraged to marry as far from the family line as possible, so that boleh interbreed untuk menghasilkan offspring yang mentally and physically healthy.

"O mankind! We have indeed created you from one man and one woman, and have made you into various nations and tribes so that you may know one another."

(Al-Hujurat, 49: 13)

Saya rasa nak marah sebab ignorant sangat registrar tu untuk buat generalisation camtu, but at the same time, I can't blame her, coz that's what happens here, leading to various penyakit pelik2 dan tidak common in the UK (hari tu ada budak kecik yang ada tyrosinaemia).

3. I have seen/heard of several kipas yang ada relationship dengan omputih, then bila dapat anak, bagi nama soleh/solehah kat anak2 tu. Kalau baik sangat kamu tu sampai nak bagi nama baik2 kat anak2, kenapa tak kawen je dengan girlfriend korang tu? Ke sebab mak ayah korang yang traditional sangat tu tak bagi kawen dengan omputih and nak korang kawen dengan your cousin from your homeland? Memalukan je letak nama baik2 seperti Aishah, tapi bersurname omputih (yakni surname maknya) sebab mak ayah tak berkahwin. I know a couple yang kipas boyfriend tu suh girlfriend dia masuk Islam, yet tak kawen and have four kids together! Apakah tujuan suh girlfriend masuk Islam if you're comitting adultery? Or is it a case of greater sin, less greater sin? Apa yang lagi mengkonfiuskan is boyfriend tu 'mendidik' girlfriend dia tu sampai girlfriend dia insist nak jumpa doktor perempuan je (konon sebab dia Muslim), sampai mengamuk2 kat GP, sedangkan perempuan tu bukan sahaja tidak menutup aurat, but also has a tattoo of boyfriend's name on her calf! Hmm, patut la anak2 mereka confused jugak, sampai amek dadah dan sleep around at the age of 12.

Wah, banyak pulak huraian saya pasal relationships and families. Mungkin kerana sekarang tengah buat Paeds and you see so many of these weird cases and can't help but ponder. Let us move on...

4. Sepertimana sesetengah Melayu, sesetengah kipas kurang mengambil berat tentang solat (i.e. sangat kagum kalau seseorang tu solat 5 waktu dan dengan tanpa segan silunya memberitahu bahawa dia sendiri tak solat sangat), but are amazingly very concerned about whether food is halal or not. Memang la kena cek makanan tu halal ke tak, tapi takde la sampai ke tahap kalau nak makan chips kat luar tu, nak tanya dulu orang kedai samada diorang goreng chips dengan lard.

It was said to the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him):
"People bring us meat and we do not know whether they have mentioned the Name of Allah over it or not. Shall we eat it or not?" and the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) replied, "Mention the Name of Allah (over it) and eat."

I always thought the general ruling is that you don't have to probe into things which you have not witnessed. Unless of course there's reason for doubt, then question la. But otherwise, most ulama' say you don't need to question things. Nanti jadi macam Bani Israel yang susah nak jumpa baqarah yang sesuai kan. Anyway, that's not the main point. The main thing that bewilders me is, have we forgotten that prayer is the first deed to be looked into on the Day of Judgement and not our food and drink? In fact, in times of desperation, we're even allowed to eat benda2 haram, but must always (always!) perform our prayers, in whatever circumstance.

5. And last but not least, there are those odd things like many kipas girls wearing nail polish (when not in menses) - tak tau la kalau ada mazhab yang cakap tak perlu ratakan air ke seluruh anggota wudhu', which is highly unlikely I believe. And ada yang pakai niqab, tapi rambut panjang lepas je sampai terkeluar (bukan dengan sikit2) dari tudung (and somehow laki dia boleh tak perasan). And anak2 muda yang pakai kopiah (which makes them appear very religious) yet bini tak tutup aurat.

Konfius, konfius...

------------------------------------------------------

Sebelum saya mengakhiri penulisan yang membosankan ini, saya ingin mengucapkan selamat belated birthday kepada lelaki saya (my man?) yang sudah besar sekarang. Tahun ni hadiah kecik2 aje ya. Nanti dah lagi besar and dah kaya raya, Lotus boleh diconsider.

Hadiah birthday yang kecik2 aje.

Kek carrot yang tak jadi. Tak cukup 24 batang lilin, so susun jadi 2 dan 4 je la.

If I buy you a Lotus, you have to buy me a Bimmer.

Apologies

2009-01-18T09:17:00.002Z

Apologies for the rather depressing tone of my recent posts. I can't help it, with everything going on. Ayoh's decease, which was shortly followed by Kadir's great grandmother was two blows in a row. Then there were a few other things as well which made it difficult to be travelling to and from Blackburn (and Burnley, and Darwen, and Colne) everyday. As I said to Dr Wallis, it's difficult enough being far away from home and only seeing our family for a short period once a year, without all of these things happening back at home. But alhamdulillah, saya telah berjaya ditukarkan kembali ke Preston.

I am slowly recovering from the bereavement for my grandfather. I do still cry everytime I read something about him, it just feels so depressing to only learn about so many things about Ayoh after he has gone. It's so depressing to only learn to appreciate his very life after he has left us. And it's so depressing to not be able to be with the rest of the family as they are going through the grieving process.

Excerpts from Abah, Ayah La etc.

When we ajar Ayah to mengucap, he would keep repeating

"Ayah tak lupa, ayah tidak lupa"

Everytime I recited

لا اله الا الله

Ayah will not only say the same, but he added two more:

لا اله الا الله فى كل لمحة ونفس عدد ما وسعه علم الله

لا اله الا انت سبحانك انى كنت من الظالمين

Monday: Ayah baca Quran ayat

إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ ٱشۡتَرَىٰ مِنَ ٱلۡمُؤۡمِنِينَ أَنفُسَهُمۡ وَأَمۡوَٲلَهُم بِأَنَّ لَهُمُ ٱلۡجَنَّةَ‌ۚ يُقَـٰتِلُونَ فِى سَبِيلِ ٱللَّهِ فَيَقۡتُلُونَ وَيُقۡتَلُونَ‌ۖ وَعۡدًا عَلَيۡهِ حَقًّ۬ا فِى ٱلتَّوۡرَٮٰةِ وَٱلۡإِنجِيلِ وَٱلۡقُرۡءَانِ‌ۚ وَمَنۡ أَوۡفَىٰ بِعَهۡدِهِۦ مِنَ ٱللَّهِ‌ۚ فَٱسۡتَبۡشِرُواْ بِبَيۡعِكُمُ ٱلَّذِى بَايَعۡتُم بِهِۦ‌ۚ وَذَٲلِكَ هُوَ ٱلۡفَوۡزُ ٱلۡعَظِيمُ

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Ayah,

Walau bagaimanapun, ada beberapa perkara sebelum ayah berpindah ke alam baqa' yang kami tidak pasti dan mungkin tidak akan dapat jawapannya.

Sehari sebelum ayah pergi, ayah minta buah anggur untuk dimakan. Selepas kami beli dan cuba bagi ayah, ayah cakap yang ayah dah makan. Sampai 50 biji ayah makan, ayah cakap, dan masa kami kupas kulit anggur yang dibeli untuk bagi ayah, ayah kata tak perlu kupas sebab anggur yang ayah makan tadi tu takpun dikupas. Kami tak pasti siapa yang menyuapkan anggur-anggur itu untuk ayah.

Pada awal pagi keberangkatan ayah, ayah minta makanan sebab ayah kata ayah lapar. Tapi selepas Ma sediakan, ayah kata dah makan. Kami tak tahu siapa yang suapkan ayah di awal pagi tu.

Beberapa ketika sebelum ayah berpindah ke alam yang seterusnya, ada semacam wangian yang datang dan pergi di rumah kita. Kami tidak tahu di manakah punca wangian ini.

Apapun ayah,

Semoga anggur yang ayah makan itu adalah hasil usaha ayah yang menyemai dan mendidik manusia-manusia untuk menjadi soleh dan muslih, yang sekarang ini pula menabur bakti untuk masyarakat.

Semoga makanan yang ayah makan di awal pagi itu adalah habuan awal yang ayah dapat hasil usaha ayah memberi makan anak yatim, derma untuk membina masjid-masjid dan surau-surau dan wakaf tanah kubur.

Semoga wangian itu adalah wangian dari setiap huruf, setiap perkataan dan setiap ayat yang ayah baca sebelum ayah menutup mata setiap malam, yang datang kembali mengerumuni ayah sebelum ayah menutup mata buat kali terakhir di dunia ini.

Insya Allah.

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I miss you, Ayoh.

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Apologies to the people of Gaza, for not doing enough to help you through your strife. It's been 23 days since the offence of the inhumane Zionist regime on the Gazans, and more than 1000 have been martyred. Israel kononnya offer a ceasefire at about 2 am earlier today, but their troops are still in Gaza and will just start striking again if there are any signs of violence from the Palestinians.

In the first place, they claimed that the attack was an act of defense to due to the firing of rockets from the Gazans, kononnya from Hamas. Well, what I don't understand is that if Hamas is who they're looking for, why can't you just take out those who are responsible and spare the many innocents who have been killed and injured in the war? Surely, with all the intelligence of the IDF, plus the support of the main world powers, it would be a piece of cake to identify where the Hamas 'terrorists' are actually hiding. Why, oh why, did you have to attack schools and refugee camps which the UN acknowledged was not a hideout for militants, but rather a sanctuary for all those civilians who had lost the safety and security of their homes due to Israeli forces???

And guess what? With all those claims of self defense, some CNN researchers have actually discovered that a month before the so-called defensive offenses by Israel due to the fire rockets, Israel had previously broken the ceasefire by attacking several places and their continued blockade on Gaza, on suspicion of terrorism (as always, there's no need for proof, as per confessions of IDF veterans). (Reference: CNN)

Yes, I know it's not a matter of who started it, and who has been affected more, for every life is valuable. But if you want to understand why these conflicts are going on, and why we should support Palestinians, you have to understand the history of it all. Then, and only then, can you put yourself in the shoes of the Palestinians (if they can afford shoes), and attempt to fathom the complexities of it all. After all, truth is always on the side of the oppressed (Malcolm X).

Taken from Facebook group - Reasons why we should support Palestine...

... because the Palestinians have been systematically removed from their lands, oppressed and massacred since the early 1900s, when the concept of Zionism was first born.

... because the Palestinians and their allies have been fighting to regain their independence since it was stripped away by the Zionist regime in 1948 and other nations. The Zionist regime has attacked every group [peaceful or militant] that advocates or fights for Palestinian freedom. Similarly, the Zionist regime also has attacked peaceful, civilian NGOs that advocate essential human rights for Palestinians which have been grossly violated and denied by the Zionist regime.

... because why do the Palestinians have to pay the price for what happened in World War II? The Palestinians had nothing to do with the Holocaust. If the Jews are entitled to their own "homeland", how come the Palestinians aren't entitled to their homeland as well? What makes it ok to uproot and displace hundreds of thousands of Palestinians, essentially wiping Palestine off the map? Nothing within the bounds of humanity would justify such an act.

... because the "Right of Return" states that all refugees that have been displaced may return to their homes. This does not exist for Palestinians. Palestinians are often denied the right to return to their homeland while simultaneously, Jews from around the world leave their home country to live on stolen land. By definition, it could be argued that many of these Jews are not refugees, as many are of European descent whose ancestors converted many years prior. Meanwhile, these Palestinians who have lived on and worked their land for eons are being forced out and into refugee camps for decades at a time.

... because according to the Jerusalem Post, Tikkun, UN official reports and other statistics, there are over 10,000 Palestinians (many women and children) who are being held in Israeli detention centers/prisons. The vast majority have yet to consult with an attorney, face charges or even told why they are there. Many more lack proper medical care, access to food and water and are forced to live in squalor conditions. The Zionist regime often denies various humanitarian relief agencies access to them.

... because the Zionist regime violates a myriad of international human rights treaties while undermining their own quest for "peace". The Zionist regime has committed gross human rights atrocities and violations against the Palestinians and has committed a vast number of war crimes of which the UN has condemned. These cases are well-documented and not disputable.

... because "Israel" has the Middle East's largest stockpile of nuclear weapons, even though it claims to be a non-nuclear weapons declared state. Furthermore, it is one of the only countries in the world (192 total) that refuses to sign the Non-Proliferation Treaty. Are those the actions of a "peace-loving state"?

... because 74 is the number of UN resolutions the Zionist regime has defied; more than any other state in existence.

... because Palestinian refugees make up the largest number of refugees in the world, surpassing 4 million.

... because Palestine is home to some of Islam's most holiest sites, including the Al-Aqsa Mosque where Muhammad ascended into heaven. The Dome of the Rock, or Masjid Qubbat As-Sakhrah, is one of the most beautiful, most important, mosques ever built.

... because the Zionist military, the IDF, is one of the most immoral armies in the world with no regard for civilian causalities or Arab life. The IDF is a flagrant and blatant violator of war crimes. The IDF has been heavily criticized by public officials from around the world for its outrageous and unnecessary actions, especially in the summer of 2006, among others. It refers to the killing of 19 individuals as an "accident". In the summer of 2006, the IDF killed over 1,700 civilians in Lebanon because two of it's soldiers were kidnapped. IDF soldiers have acted in the most barbaric of ways, yet this image of the IDF soldier is never displayed on American television.

... because the Zionist regime has constructed an apartheid wall while simultaneously gobbling up more Palestinian land. The construction of this wall is built with a stone-aged mentality. The apartheid wall deviates from "defined" borders while encompassing water sources and Palestinian farmland. The apartheid wall swallows up anything of value and is illegal under the authority of the UN.

... because the Zionist entity itself is an apartheid state. In the Zionist entity, non-Jews (especially Arabs) receive far less rights than Jews. An Arab in the Zionist entity is treated much the same way an African-American person was treated in Alabama during the 1960's. "Jews Only" job ads were permissible up until 1988. Non-Jews must present special documentation prior and after crossing the border while Jews do not. Discrimination against non-Jews in the Zionist entity is rampant. Arabs cannot buy or lease land within the Zionist entity.

... because Palestine existed before there ever was an "Israel". What was on the map in "Israel's" current location prior to 1948?

... because IDF commanders have openly admitted that Palestinian unarmed POW's were executed, which is just one of the many examples where the Geneva Convention was violated. The Zionist regime also refuses to prosecute its soldiers who have admitted to executing prisoners of war. Furthermore, in 2003, Rachel Corrie, an American and peaceful protester, was run over intentionally by an IDF bulldozer. The IDF officer who was in the driver's seat admitted to the act but never apologized and he was never punished.

... because the Zionist regime receives more economic aid from the US annually than all 45 countries in Africa in total.

... because the Palestinians face an enormous media bias against them in the American media. Meanwhile, the Zionist regime in conjunction with the work of AIPAC, has a significant hold over the American media and is always portrayed to be on the defense when in reality, this is rarely the case.

... "because this is my homeland and no one can kick me out..." - Arafat

... because we are determined to never give up the fight to come back to our home... that you bulldozed, destroyed and stole.

We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing.

- Jewel

2008-12-31T23:14:00.006Z

"Ayoh dah meninggal. Al Fatihah."

That was the short message I got from my sister at 10.18 am local time. Ayoh is my paternal grandfather - in Kelantanese culture, we call the grandparents as our parents call them.

Abah texted me later on saying Ayoh passed away around 6 pm Malaysian time. He asked me to tell Munzir as well. Kakak said Ayoh went slowly, all his children had the chance to say their last words and ask for forgiveness. I haven't been 'allowed' to call yet, Kakak says everyone's busy with prayers and the rest of the funeral preparations.

Ayoh has been sick and bedridden for a long time, probably even before I came to the UK. I'm not really sure what he actually suffered from, but he had the usual elderly problems. So when everyone went back to KB this time because "Ayoh sakit", unsuspectingly, I thought things would be as they usually were. If I had expected this to happen, I would have asked to talk to Ayoh when I called a couple of days ago. Now everything is regret. I regret not spending much time with him when I went back to KB last summer, all because I was too wrapped up in my own affairs. I regret not being a good granddaughter ever since he fell sick. I can't remember having a proper chat with him since he's been sick. I can't remember ever feeding him, or helping him to the toilet, or anything. I always left it to my grandma, who isn't even that strong herself. And to think that everytime Munzir or I went back to KB, Ayoh would cry as soon as he saw our faces and each time before we left, because we were the two grandkids he only saw very rarely. Probably Azim and Husna share a similar experience.

Now that I think about it, I can't figure out why things changed between me and Ayoh since he fell sick. And now that he's gone, all the memories are rushing back. One of the earliest photos I have is of Ayoh standing up, wearing his kopiah and glasses, and carrying me in his arms. I barely even had any hair back then. When I was little, Ayoh took me to tadika every single day on his Pasolla while he was on his way to teach. Ayoh was an Arabic teacher - people used to call him Ustaz Muhammad Sibawaih, after the great Arab linguist - and the main lorong into our housing area was named after him. I remember when I was in school, Abah used to make me bring my Arabic homework with me each time balik kampung, so that instead of just wasting time playing around day and night, I learned some Arabic from Ayoh. I'm not sure exactly where Ayoh taught, but I know that each time he went out, he would drop by at Berek 12 and buy all kinds of delicious food and savouries. Ayoh was always a joker, there was always something he could poke fun at. One of the things I remember the most is that he always used to compare his skin colour to Aie's, to confirm that Aie was actually a family member. Haha. There are just so many things to remember... Huhu.

Ayoh passed away leaving a wife, 13 children, and numerous grandchildren and great grandchildren. Al-Fatihah for him. May his soul rest in the peace and blessings of Allah.

Pics from Pata'ie.

In the younger years with Ayoh and Ma. And Azim, Along, Ijue, Achik and Buje.

Ayoh's deteriorating condition. This was when he was still able to sit, about 9 months ago. After that, he was just skin and bones.

I miss Ayoh. I miss my family...

2008-12-26T12:51:00.000Z

Deep breath in, slow breath out.

Ah, finally a breath of fresh air. I can now understand why the final years warned us of the toughness of fourth year. Even Dan said earlier on in the year when someone asked him what happened to him that made him look so gloomy and drained - "Fourth year happened."

The past 15 weeks or so have been nothing short of a warzone - hectic, chaotic, no time for thinking about less significant things. Starting with 4 weeks of psychiatry, 4 weeks of neurology, 4 weeks of orthopaedics and trauma, and immediately trailing afterwards was the OSCE. Just as we were learning new things and skills from each placement, we had to be revising for the exams, since we're not as lucky as other places who have 2, 3 months of study leave.

Then there was the 3 weeks of SSC. I did one on ENT, something we would never learn otherwise (stupidly enough) throughout our medical education at Manchester Uni. So that was three weeks of learning everything I could about ENT conditions and their management, revising ENT and head & neck anatomy so that the registrars (especially the sexist, racist, religionist one - yes, he was Asian) couldn't grill me to the core during surgeries, and at the same time trying to write a 4000 word case report on papillary thyroid cancer. Maybe next time I'll do an SSC on dermatology or infectious disease, two other things we aren't taught about, yet are magically expected to know everything about.

And somewhere in between all of that, we had our portfolio reviews (which I of course only started preparing a couple of days prior) and planning for next summer's 11 weeks of project option, which I will be doing under the supervision of the Clinical Director of Child Health and Neonatology (weehee! ).

Then there was the last week of school before the Christmas hols, which was very very stressful and hectic due to the finishing up (or actually writing up) of the SSC and the anxiety of knowing the OSCE results. Plus we were supposed to be going to London that weekend and I hadn't planned anything for it yet. And also MARA officers from Malaysia and London came to visit. And there was Kak Fiza's graduation.

But at long last, all ends well. I managed to write just over 4000 words for the SSC and submitted it online at around 2 am on Friday. Alhamdulillah, all of us passed our OSCE (alhamdulillah!). I went down to Manchester to meet up with the MARA officers, and managed to get my points across. And Kak Fiza's graduation was... inspiring! And we found out when we'll be having our electives, and alhamdulillah, I got the May-June 2010 blocks.

Nampak saya kat VIP seat tengah amek gambar Kak Fiza?

The very happy Dr. Kak Fiza. Bila la muka saya nak gembira camtu...

The traditional throw-hat-in-air ritual.

And we went to London. Earlier plan was supposed to be a trip to Turkey. Then it was changed to Rome or Paris when the Swiss Air tickets went up drastically. Then when there was no time to plan any trip properly due to the busyness of school etc, last2 pegi London je. But oh well, I've never been there before pun, except untuk transit and demo je. But poor third years who wanted to come along to the non-London trips. Next time la eh.

Inilah tujuan sebenar saya ke London. Amaran: Saya kelihatan gemuk kerana pakai 2 lapis baju, jumper and coat.

Namun, kerana barang2 di Harrods tetap mahal walaupun sale, beli sushi across the road je la.

Tepi la, Lance!

The Greenwich Meridian Line.

On the last day in London, Kak Fiza left for Malaysia. It was really sad that I couldn't see her off. And it was sadder that I didn't get to say a proper goodbye before we left for London. Huhu.

And in five days, Kak Jah and Umar Afif (and Abang Azmir and Auntie Sam) are going back to Malaysia for good. Who can I bully after this???

Then the Mr is going back to Egypt.

Then Kak Zy will be off to Tanzania and back home for a couple of months.

Then the other kakak2 will be off for their electives.

Then all the kakak2 will be going home for good.

Then, it'll just be us kids growing old together, trying to finish off this long journey that seems to never end.

People leave, it's an inevitable fact. Like Pi says, we just learn to get used to it.