Ants in laptop...

Surfing around to find ways of getting rid of them... Haih, I thought this only happened in college days but apparently not... Some interesting ideas...
- switch on and keep for 2 days straight. I dunno if the ants get out first or my laptop dies first
- keep laptop in air tight container with ants bait. Where to get a huge airtight container la...
- putting laptop in ziplock bag and into the fridge. Like, seriously? o.O
- put cinnamon stick by the laptop. And my laptop will smell something close like cinnamon roll...
- blow dry the laptop.But the ants are INSIDE...

What I did was... modified no.1 with music blaring plus modified no 2 i.e. put ant bait nearby... it worked LOL :D

Long time no see...

Haih.. with life's up and down I've been neglecting this blog for such a long, long time... My apology...

To think that at a crucial time near my exam only did I pick up my laptop and start typing away.. Such irony =)

No, I have not stop blogging, just busy with life as an upgrade from medical student life. Sadly, this upgraded life accompanied with cash somehow did not help me in procuring more interesting places to dine at. However, I managed to slip out now and then for a squeeze of fun.

So here then...

The hell of needlestick injury

Sometimes you can feel that bad things are gonna happen. The small clues are there, you feel the déjà vu feelings but you choose to ignore it.


My car was chased by some stupid dogs that morning, I was unable to eat my breakfast due to overflowing workloads and patients who keep pulling out their branulas (God bless them), and while taking blood from a new patient I had a flashback of a close call from almost getting a needle prick injury.

And then it happened.

I pricked my thumb while pulling away the blood bottle from the vacutainer’s end; did not notice that the needle was already protruding from the rubber tubing.

Then everything else was a blur.

I remembered washing and squeezing everything out from my thumb under running water for ten minutes, informing the nurse, notifying my specialist, going to ED to register my name and had my blood taken, clerked my own history into the file as ED was freaking busy then went home.

The specialist started me on HAART straight-away because the patient was HIV positive with hepatitis C.

So now I am on HAART and have been shitting my guts out thanks to the side effect.

I got a free leave, my viva was postponed.

Housemen, welcome to the hell of needlestick injury.

Western food woes.

A Western foreigner was admitted recently and requested for Western hospital menu, to which the staffs provided and no further event ensued.

A Malaysian just recently returned from Indonesia for a holiday and brought home with him H1N1 threw his food tray to the floor, screaming at the nurses that he wants Western menu and not the usual Malaysian menu served.

Hell-o?

Highway talk.

Until now and forever, I will and can never get used to people driving 70 km/hr on highways.


Seriously, if I do not consider the cost to repair my car, I would have rammed the car in front me to wake whoever the fellow in front me up and hopefully s/he will drive faster.

Plate number, may I say, make little difference in speed. Same lah, KL or non-KL , all perasan laju drive in middle lane at 70 – 80 km despite the highway sign saying “had laju 110km bermula” (The start of 110km/hr route) in the national language.

News from Sabah HO.

1. Second month into working, still no salary.

2. Working hours start at 6 PM and stretches into infinity.

3. Over – working.

4. Come October, maybe salary too will come in.

5. UMS convocation, or to be more specific, the medical school convo day, will be on the 10th October.


Good luck to you guys...

Induction and BTN

This is a fully – paid holiday from the government before they squeeze everything out of you when you start working as a doctor.


Everyday, 7 AM down to breakfast after a night of partying in your room with friends, air – cond and soft bed. Go into the hall for lectures on life as a doctor where non – doctor people make it sounds so wonderful to become a doctor with all the incentives, holidays and salary talks. All that is applicable only when you are an MO. What a joke.

Then come BTN, we have this old grandma who stares down her nose at us, made belittling remarks to reduce these freshly grad doctors to nothing but school children that need reprimanding form time to time. Some political talks dressed up as inspiring and eye – opening lectures then commenced.

Eat. 6 times a day, condensed milk drink a must. A heavy tea time of Malaysian cuisine (noodles, rice) before a heavier dinner at 7 PM.

8 PM more lectures while your full stomach digested everything and pulled all the blood from brain to gut, making you dream while sitting awake of the bed waiting in the room. Supper at 10 after lectures. Go back to room. Short party, small talks and gossips.

Sleep.

Life is good pre – doctor days.

HO talk, talk.

After 2 months of abandonment, I’m finally back.

God, life can be horrible sometimes.

I’m now a working, independent lass trying to survive on my own cash.

And a lass who has lost 3 kg in my months stint of working life.

Goodbye life as medical student, now everyone calls me doctor, that heavy – duty title. Heavy – duty as in long – lasting on your feet as long as you are in the ward taking care of other people but yourself.

The day starts at 5.45 AM. 6.15 AM out of house to drive the 20 minutes drive minus jam to Hospital Sungai Buloh. Arrive and punch in, scan and compare previous time and smile if I managed to surpass previous time or curse if I made it slightly later. Hey, it’s one of those minor things that add glimmer in working life for me.

By 7 starts the HO round tracing all bloody results, making frustrating phone calls for untraceable results then updating daily progress. 8.00 AM MO appears for MO rounds while me the HO pushes the laptop cart along to type down whatever dictated for the day. Then Specialists drop by for the Word of the Day. Until 12 PM you settle whatever tasks set for the day, more blood-taking, type referrals, call up lab for more results, push everything to be urgent, get yelled by those frustrated by your pushing, deals with shooting up/dropping BP and blood glucose and desaturated O2, do some smooth talking to get consents for CT scans/MRI/procedures, and pray that you will somehow manage to have lunch.

Unfortunately, when you are about to leave for lunch, the relatives approach you because it’s also visiting hours when it is the only time they can meet up doctors for a chat. You smile and try to explain in the easiest plain Malay/English you could think up while your eyes dart to the clock from time to time.

Then afternoon rounds commence. Repeat morning doings. Pray that you can go home at 5 PM. Pray that the road won’t be congested with other people going home at 5 PM too.

5 PM. That stable patient suddenly collapsed; BP drops, consciousness going down the drain, heart rate shooting. You poke her everywhere trying to get one bloody line to get in resuscitation fluid. MO come, commence full blast resuscitation. By the time you sign the death cert, it’s 8 PM. You are post – call. Punch out, blast the music in your car and drive home, praying for a longer night to sleep and rest.

Morning comes, another repeat.

This is, my noble profession life for now.

Coconut juice with... SUGAR?

Ok, I was pissed with this shop in Shah Alam, Ani Sup Utara at Section 9. If you ever come here and order a coconut juice, tell them you want it WITHOUT sugar.

But in the first place, it's already absurd to serve coconut juice in the fruit with sugar. I almost sputter it out due to the shock of finding sugar grains in my mouth after a sip. When I called the waiter over, he said it's the way they serve coconut juice in their shop.



And when I demand to change with a non - sugar-added one, it was refused. Hello, it was not stated in your menu there, it was absurd, and what if I have diabetes? Since they totally refused to changed it, I have to order a new one since I badly wanted to drink coconut juice, minus the sugar.

The only good thing was that they serve it as a whole fruit.

I'm saying this again, it is freaking absurd to add sugar into a fresh coconut juice.

Bukit Cerakah (02): the cute part

I'm huge on animals, be it cooked or alive, especially if they are cute. For the cooked ones, as long as I don't watch the slaughtering process, I'd eat them with the exception of Bantam chicken and non - halal ones.

Anyway, I visited the Animal Park there since such thing is always in my priority if any animal park exists anywhere.

Bunnies!!!







I wonder why this one had a blue streak on its fur...



I forgot what this was but it's a turtle.



And porcupines.


I love it how they used their hands to eat!



There are many more but the conditions were too pathetic that it'll just ruin the image of this place if I post it up.

Again, I was disappointed...

Bukit Cerakah (01): That "Damn Hill" (?)

Last time they said that the origin of this place name is from the word "celaka" @ damn, pronounced cerakah because the locals couldn't pronounce it properly. Correct me if I’m wrong. Later on, they upgrade this place and gave it a better name, Taman Pertanian Bukit Cahaya Seri Alam @ Shah Alam Malaysia Algriculture Park. The latest re-naming was Taman Botanikal Negara @ National Botanical Park.

After many years since my last visit when I was, like, 10 maybe, I decided to pay homage to one of my childhood places. After all, it’s just a 5 minute drive from my house.



Surprisingly, the car park was pretty full though it’s only 10 on a Sunday morning. Turned out that many people like to come here for cycling activity and to hit the outdoor adventure activities (flying fox, paintball shooting and the likes), we found this out at the bicycle renting center where all the good bikes had already been taken up and we had to book and wait in the long waiting list for the next batch of bikes.

So we took the tour bus instead, which in a way was more convenient of me to catch a glimpse of the changes that the place had gone through.



Which I may say, yielded a disappointing result. Many of the places of attraction were poorly maintained, I’d say, what with the buildings looking sad and dilapidated, needing repair, mostly unopened to the public and the likes. The plant - based parks were a jungle of weeds and crumbling replicas, which did not live up to the name of National Botanical Park.

The only place that remained unchanged is the 4 Season House. It was spring time so flowers were in bloom. Enter the "refrigerator" to enjoy the season's best. You'll get what I mean if you visit this place yourself.





After the near-freezing experience in 4 Season House fridge, we took a walk at the nearby Mushroom park which had nothing special to offer except for mosquitoes at different breeding stages (sarcasm) and old mushrooms. But I snapped this delicious flower called bunga kantan which was in full bloom. This flower can be cooked up or eaten raw in several Malay dishes.



Ok, so I give you some nice views to ooh and aah at. Not much though since I omitted most of them due to such embarrassing details.


The watchtower which had such steep stairs that I crawled on all 4 at certain parts.



You can find more info on the place here: http://www.malaysiavacationguide.com/shahalam.html

Suffice to say, I was disappointed with the outing so permit me to use this word... DAMN!

Beware of "secondhand" phones!

Read this carefully, and read this well!!


Previously I was enlightened by some friends on this issue; apparently some phone vendor would open up and use all the high-tech phones he received from the supplier before selling it off as a "secondhand" to the customers. Of course, most stories centered around those shady, "basement" joints vendors. This happened at Shah Alam Mall, Selangor for God sake!



SO imagine my shock the other day when I myself was cheated, and this coming from those bright - light, supposedly legal joint. It was a simple Nokia 2600 series, mind you, but cheating is cheating. Upon reaching home, I switched on this phone without inserting the simcard first to play around with it, and was shocked beyond words to find 800 of sent and received SMS, pictures of unknown family and people in the phone memory. The stupid culprit, lucky me, forgot to wipe off his trace.

Of course I went back to that joint, with my brother to create some ruckus and demand for an exchange. The salesguy indeed, to his credit, displayed such a rude and defensive behaviour, one is to grab the phone from my hand when I refused his request to let him hold it to view the contents, that I suspect that he himself is an accomplice. After much shouting threats to bring in the police and lawyers, they relented to the request to exchange the phone with a new one.


Moral of the story:

1. Check the phone thoroughly inside out before slapping down the cash (This phone looked brand new, so I suspect they change the inside and uses the new casing as cover)

2. Bring a tough guy to help you settle the exchange job. One who would brandish the shop's heavy metal chair to break the display cases.


I was really disgusted, but satisfied since all the ruckus made all potential customers at that joint walked out promptly after witnessing that.

And those stupid salesguys, in the new phone I discovered 2 pictures of them (when asked earlier, they told me they were testing to see whether it's functioning well) which I shall keep for future use if such need arises.

I want a DIGITAL CAMERA....

Sigh... I'm kind of regretting my 5 - years ago decision to take up PTPTN loan... Should have taken JPA, the recipients receive RM12 000 yearly... Let me see, what was the reason last time I decided to forgo it... Ah, it's the 10 years government bondage i.e. working in government institution for 10 years...

If I'd taken the JPA scholarship, a camera is a dream come true... And a brand new handphone every year. Branded clothes... Good food... New laptop... Even a Keris motor bike.

Sigh... I should have taken JPA...

Kids... And traffic jam...

This week is the (re-)start of my suffering... The school holiday is over and so are the peace of KK roads... Come school opening, and so more cars on the road, back to the days of slow - mo behind the wheel... And people cutting / nosing in from emergency lane (Thanks a lot people. You just contributed more to the jam. Love you all.).

I'm not fond of kids, to put it nicely. To me they are annoying, noisy, NOT cute no matter how cute other people say they are, something that I do not wish to have within 500 m of my parameter. But hey, here I am living on and sharing this planet so.. there they are...

Some people may admonish me by saying, "Hey, you were a kid before too!" and I'll say "So what?". I mean, now is now, before is before and I would not say that everyone have to love me, just like I am now. So what?

Marriage nonsense

It is interesting (and also horrifying) to note that certain traditions are still implied during this day and age. One that has similarity in all races is the arranged marriage through families, with or without the children’s consents.

I’m not such a big fan of arranged marriage when it involved coercion and force, to be frank. Some may accept it as filial duty, but it seems somewhat wrong to force such union and lifetime commitment upon those who do not wish for it. And the complications that arise are usually not pretty. One that I’d encountered recently was a bride who ran away on the day of the wedding. This is one case where she was called back home suddenly one day and was put through an engagement without any notice from the parents or future in – laws. Apparently the parents loved each others’ children. Wow. Oi, I wonder where is the respect for this poor bride – to – be? And who’s the one getting engaged / married here, I wonder.

Anyway, the engagement proceeded and with the wedding date looming, she was forced to go along with the preparation since she did not dare to protest and call off the engagement. Plus point, the couple didn’t seem to be able to strike up a comfortable relationship. So where is this leading to?

Thanks to our caring society that sniffs gossips miles away, breaking off engagement is not as simple as it seems, what more with your parents breathing fire. Bonus point, when the couple is highly – educated, a trophy wedding it is.

My sincere condolences to such weddings.

McDonald oh McDonald...

Think you got anything to complain of to McDonald (Malaysia only)? Try here http://www.mcdonalds.com.my/ and click “Just Tell Us”. Well, the page stated there to describe any unforgettable moments you’d experienced in McDonald’s, and well, let’s just say that not all memories are the good ones alone…

There is just something about the road of Sabah…

That simply infuriates you. Most of the time. All the time. All the way. Half of the way.

Trust me, you would have felt some of the sentiments above when you drive anywhere in Sabah, Kota Kinabalu included.

The buses. They are big, heavy, laden. SLOW. But they’ll simply slow down to stop anywhere along the road, or slow you down when they are leaving their stops, nosing their way out regardless that you are speeding 70 - 80 km/hour. They leave you seething as they crawl into the fast lane, oblivious to you who are coming at the speed of 70 – 90 km/hr.

Mini vans. Same case. So no repetition.

The rest, I rest my case. Seeing is believing.

My foot

Literally that was exactly what I would like to say yesterday except that the irony of the whole situation made it unsuitable.

I strained my right foot ligament. Even the doctor who gave me such diagnosis looked doubtful but by the given history of no trauma, no insect bite/sting, no nothing happened there directly…

Let me go through again… on Friday night around 9 pm (God forbid I do this again till I graduate) I returned to the Medical ward in QEH to copy a case note of a patient for my case presentation due on Tuesday (since I rather not waste petrol and time to come back again on weekends). Upon entrance, my senior who was a houseman there greeted me with a relieved exclamation and straight away ushered me to help him with the new admissions. So there I was, a student, doing a houseman job of clerking and blood taking and filling forms then later blood C&S plus informing the weary nurses that this patient need this and that patient need that and so forth and later to be informed that the ward run out of blankets thanks to the 14 new admissions within 3 hours. Not to mention that the floor is covered by folding beds and a suspected pneumonia/TB patient was wedged in between others.

So by the time I left it was 2.30 am… reach college by 3 am to be let in by the sympathetic guard… drop off to bed with sore feet by 4 am. Then I woke up at 9 am with excruciating pain in my right foot which made standing and walking as something to be done only when necessary. And so I was off to the collage clinic where the doctor was baffled by what that seemed like a torn / strained ligament in sports injury turned out to be a non – traumatic one. Mind you I was wearing flat shoes.

God I can’t imagine how it is after I graduate later… I think I should consider Tawau Hospital instead now…

UMS & convocation... My day

Today I went to my seniors’ convocation, which was after contemplating for so long whether I should dress in jeans or baju kurung. And of the jam. And of parking space and ease.

To begin with, the Tamu Gadang kick started the whole convo event. Which also kick started my hell of driving back to hostel with all the traffic of outsiders and office workers clogging up the campus road. And so I rather stayed in the ward till 6 pm daily for the whole week than drive through the congested round – a - bout. There was nothing much about the whole Tamu Gadang event, expensive food, mess, noise… OK, so some AF artists came.

Then the convo started. More jam.

Anyway, my seniors’ convo day. The day they officially became real doctors. Literally since technically they were already doctors since they started working 2 weeks prior.

My God, I’ve never seen so many people congested in one space. And the heat. And the sudden downpour. And the long hours of the session.

I thank God that I chose to wear jeans as all the stairs climbing and chasing after our seniors to gave their congratulatory bouquets would be hazardous with baju kurung.

I don’t think I’ll come to my own convo until dragged kicking and screaming by my parents who paid for my school fees these 5 years. All the long hours, RM150 fees and registration, jam, crowd… I rather sleep in on the day – off that I’ll apply for my convo…

Of hospital and ideals

Last week saw a column in The Star depicting a picture of our Health Minister talking to a patient in Queen Elizabeth Hospital (referred as Queen in this post). I refer to this particular picture because it’s showing what that is really happening in the main referral hospital here in Sabah. The picture showed a cardiac patient on a typical folding bed on the floor commonly used here in Queen whenever the wards are filled beyond their capacities. The patients’ files are then strewn somewhere on the crowded table stands supposedly used for patients to take their meals.

This is a typical scenario in Queen, the main referral hospital in Sabah. Everyday there is pressure to discharge near – stable patients or to refer back to district hospitals in order to make room for more patients and referrals. On any evening it’s no surprise to see the previously empty beds from morning or noon to be filled with new patients, or numerous folding beds to materialize on the floor until walking through the maze of beds and doctors and nurses and medical students becomes an obstacle trekking. The male wards especially, are in fact nick – named by medical students and many doctors as the war zone area. That’s the ward for you.

Accident and emergency (A&E) is no different. The moment you are just to heave a sigh of relief, a torrent of patients crashed into the Green, Yellow and Red zones. Then the frenzy of ECG, x – ray, IV lines and needles begin amidst the small area clogged up with medical personnel, equipments and patients. Mass accident is a nightmare for every doctor here. There is no such thing as 30 minutes wait. Even upon entrance patients would still end up in another waiting area.

Clinics mostly are spilling with patients till past lunch hour. A standard room of 5x5 m contains 2 tables and chairs for 2 doctors, 2 chairs for patients, a rack or shelf and a nurse’s table maybe, and a single examination bed. Extra furniture further cramped up the leftover space available. The lack of doctors paved a path for medical assistant (MA) to specialize and perform various high – level procedures such as echocardiography and Holter study in the cardiology clinic. Mind you, it’s not just technical handling but also medical results analysis and reporting. There are no other states, except maybe Sarawak, where you can see MA specializing in not only cardiology but anaesthesiology, psychiatry, orthopaedics, ophthalmology and various other high specialties especially in district hospitals.

Did I mention that Queen does not have a CT scan machine? Or at least a functioning one.

Thank God they shifted the Pediatrics and the Obs & Gyne wards to Likas hospital.

Note: the post is not meant to be degrading but a shout out to the public of the awful condition and reality here in Sabah.