I wish it's easy to quit and start anew. But it was easier to start than to quit.
I just had the feeling medical field is not for me. But I also do not have a plan B.
Only in my 2nd postings and I just can bare with the negativity of this posting.
Bosses shout right at our face like we dont have hearts. Sometimes for non apparent reason.
Asking them to come if patient developed worrying symptoms, even scarier.
Also in this posting like no mentor is actually mentoring you.
No matter where I go even through counselling people will tell me to just accept things and
go through it.
I wish I could wake up the next day with motivation but it is so hard so difficult.
Between Horror and Humor
when the brain leads the journey, the heart will start to nag
Disclaimer
The Entity
- dayanaazhar:)
- Kajang, Selangor, Malaysia
- Assalamualaikum. Writing all the way from Belgaum, Karnataka, India. Missing Malaysia so much. But everything is just perfectly fine here. India makes people not just live, but SURVIVE. :)
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And remember, it always rain hard for those who deserve The Sun. :)
Thursday, 5 April 2018
Monday, 30 October 2017
Working
Working is truly used to be a blessing. I asked for a job in my prayers for a year in my du'a in that one year hiatus after medschool. Got Hospital Sungai Buloh instead of the nearby Serdang. When I was in the eHO website for hospital placement, I was a bit frustrated as Hospital Serdang was no more in the list that I can opt for. Thus, I chose HSGB as I have been there before a multiple times when I was doing premedical studies in UiTM.
Medical department is where I am currently working in, will finish it by next month; November. Time flew but I must admit I was not a good houseman. Never in my life, I thought I would have problems in adapting or to perform well, but I am still am not good after almost 4 months in medical. My tagging period was prolonged since I was told that I am too slow at adapting to the system. I still remember I returned home at 2 am just to enter my notes in the system. Every plan was jumbled up. And the next morning I have to return at 4 am. So ridiculous.
My specialist then told my boss, that I have no knowledge and could not present my cases well. My boss. the head of department scolded me in front of every junior housemen, and I broke apart; cried in front of everyone. He said I was a disgrace to my family for being slow and incompetent. I tried every single day to improve but it's so hard.
I have problems inserting a cannulla/branula, problems with blood taking and many more. Even one time, I mistakenly switch two persons blood and the specialist from the blood bank came to see me to inform that I will be given a warning letter. I cried again before her.
Switched to PKKN on the 3rd week or so, and started to work with this specialist who happened to be a lioness. My first day, in PKKN, I need to handle 16 beds. I came to ward at 5 am, only to know I cant print the notes; but must write em all down. Imagine to know 16 beds altogether. It's a nightmare! And by 7.30 am, I still havent finish noting down another 10 patients' histories and all the things they had. My MO came and asked whether I knew all the cases. I told her no. I didnt manage to do so.
My specialist that morning was very fierce and said things so fast that I couldn't catch up. Rasa nak nangis! Later after some time, I was still doing my tagging, every day came to work at 4 am and return home at 10 or 11 pm. It's exhausting as heck. I feel like wanting to quit, can't function, useless every negative feeling started to fill in. Soon after, this very fierce specialist, off tag me, didn't have proper assessment with her, but from that day, I was able to do solo calls.
Solo calls in PKKN was so chill and relaxing. Even though, I need to handle three wards, I can still manage all the coming morning bloods and the patients, indent all the medication properly and things were fine. Working at dengue wards was tiring at first, but soon I think I became better at PKKN. The best thing was that I was then working with Dr S, my favourite specialist who never demotivated me, and always speak nicely to me. I felt appreciated and love working.
Changing to ward 4A was a nightmare. Met a lot of new good friends, but I felt so stressed as I did not function well. Did a lot of mistakes; cause patient to collapse and got scolded by the specialist every now and then. Patients in this ward had so multiple complex problems, that I can't even brain. Most of the patients, were having kidney issues, so they were overloaded. Their veins were very difficult to find and their arteries at most time were very hard to palpate. It's a blessing actually when you see a triple lumen or a femoral cath being inserted so that blood taking would be easier.
Just recently, when I was oncall, one patient desaturated and got intubated after his blood pressure drops to 69/40. The fault was on me, since I was the one instructed the nurse that night to taper down the IVI labetolol from 3 ml/hr to 1m/hr. I also didnt manage to take all the bloods that day...so again I need to write an explanation letter. Total explanation letters were 8...imagine the mistakes I made in a week working in the ward.
I have cried the whole week out of stress. It's so stressful. Been wanting to quit so bad, as I can't handle the pressure. I was not given an off day for two weeks working, until today. Working non stop and when I mentioned I am stress, no one gives a damn. It's true that in this life as a houseman, it's all me, I am alone. No one would understand the pressure, be it your family, your loved ones, your so called specialist who acted nice only in front of you. I am in this path alone.
Medical department is where I am currently working in, will finish it by next month; November. Time flew but I must admit I was not a good houseman. Never in my life, I thought I would have problems in adapting or to perform well, but I am still am not good after almost 4 months in medical. My tagging period was prolonged since I was told that I am too slow at adapting to the system. I still remember I returned home at 2 am just to enter my notes in the system. Every plan was jumbled up. And the next morning I have to return at 4 am. So ridiculous.
My specialist then told my boss, that I have no knowledge and could not present my cases well. My boss. the head of department scolded me in front of every junior housemen, and I broke apart; cried in front of everyone. He said I was a disgrace to my family for being slow and incompetent. I tried every single day to improve but it's so hard.
I have problems inserting a cannulla/branula, problems with blood taking and many more. Even one time, I mistakenly switch two persons blood and the specialist from the blood bank came to see me to inform that I will be given a warning letter. I cried again before her.
Switched to PKKN on the 3rd week or so, and started to work with this specialist who happened to be a lioness. My first day, in PKKN, I need to handle 16 beds. I came to ward at 5 am, only to know I cant print the notes; but must write em all down. Imagine to know 16 beds altogether. It's a nightmare! And by 7.30 am, I still havent finish noting down another 10 patients' histories and all the things they had. My MO came and asked whether I knew all the cases. I told her no. I didnt manage to do so.
My specialist that morning was very fierce and said things so fast that I couldn't catch up. Rasa nak nangis! Later after some time, I was still doing my tagging, every day came to work at 4 am and return home at 10 or 11 pm. It's exhausting as heck. I feel like wanting to quit, can't function, useless every negative feeling started to fill in. Soon after, this very fierce specialist, off tag me, didn't have proper assessment with her, but from that day, I was able to do solo calls.
Solo calls in PKKN was so chill and relaxing. Even though, I need to handle three wards, I can still manage all the coming morning bloods and the patients, indent all the medication properly and things were fine. Working at dengue wards was tiring at first, but soon I think I became better at PKKN. The best thing was that I was then working with Dr S, my favourite specialist who never demotivated me, and always speak nicely to me. I felt appreciated and love working.
Changing to ward 4A was a nightmare. Met a lot of new good friends, but I felt so stressed as I did not function well. Did a lot of mistakes; cause patient to collapse and got scolded by the specialist every now and then. Patients in this ward had so multiple complex problems, that I can't even brain. Most of the patients, were having kidney issues, so they were overloaded. Their veins were very difficult to find and their arteries at most time were very hard to palpate. It's a blessing actually when you see a triple lumen or a femoral cath being inserted so that blood taking would be easier.
Just recently, when I was oncall, one patient desaturated and got intubated after his blood pressure drops to 69/40. The fault was on me, since I was the one instructed the nurse that night to taper down the IVI labetolol from 3 ml/hr to 1m/hr. I also didnt manage to take all the bloods that day...so again I need to write an explanation letter. Total explanation letters were 8...imagine the mistakes I made in a week working in the ward.
I have cried the whole week out of stress. It's so stressful. Been wanting to quit so bad, as I can't handle the pressure. I was not given an off day for two weeks working, until today. Working non stop and when I mentioned I am stress, no one gives a damn. It's true that in this life as a houseman, it's all me, I am alone. No one would understand the pressure, be it your family, your loved ones, your so called specialist who acted nice only in front of you. I am in this path alone.
Friday, 29 July 2016
Regret
I am coming home to a regret. Life is full of regret but right now I am an adult and I am living a life full of regrets.
Back to a month ago, I arrived at the KLIA2 for good. I was coming home for good after completing my undergraduate studies. Medicine is amazing; only if you once finished it. I knew certainly, coming home this time won't be much the same anymore.
My brother couldn't pick me up early so my mom told me I had to wait till 2 pm. I wanted to stay in Sama-sama Hotel but not only then I realized that we should get to the hotel right before we head for this immigration counter; even before we pick up our baggage.
With bags loaded on my trolley I need somewhere to stay. And also to charge my phone. I used to have this person I can call. He was my Papa. Papa was a special gift from Allah. He was an amazing dad who had loved us unconditionally. Now, his name as my Papa only became a memory. Memory in my head and in my simcard. I miss him terribly.
I used to have Papa asking me what will my flight number be just in case it got delayed so he can track me down. He used to pick me up at the earliest. I won't be seeing him anymore to pick me up at the airport.
Apparently after sometime, mom told me maklong was coming to pick me up and she was coming with pak cik Lan. I was not happy or mad or sad. I was just frustrated because I want a close family member to pick me up.
As Pak Cik Lan arrived, I didn't smile nor did I said anything. I hated it when he came because he was not my dad. Then Maklong came in saying that we should go to Klang to visit arwah Mak Teh. Not that I didn't want to but it wasn't the right time to go somewhere to visit the sick. I need my break. I was exhausted.
I was silent on our way to Klang. I closed my eyes and almost break in tears. I miss my dad. I was imagining that my final arrival from India would be with my closest family members. My parents and my siblings. In my head, I saw them at the gate and they would given me this bouquet of flowers to congratulate me for passing my final examinations. Too bad for me, they were just another dream.
Suddenly, I opened my eyes and I noticed it wasn't the route for Klang. I asked my Uncle Lan, why weren't we on our way to Klang as planned. Maklong told me that she noticed I was behaving slightly odd and she knew exactly that I didn't want to go to Klang. She knew I was sulking.
She sent me back home where mom and my little sis were there. At home, I cried so much because I miss papa. He had promised to pick me up from the airport exactly in June. He said that when I was just arriving in India a week before he passed away.
And with that, soon later, not even a month of returning, my Maklong got a heart attack and now she is in coma. My dearest Mak Teh who has helped us so much with Papa's funeral and tahlil, passed away a day before Raya. I was stunned because I didn't even do good to my most closest aunts. My beloved who had loved me ever since like their own child. I regret for not cherishing Maklong when she welcomed me from the airport. I even sulked and made her angry. I regret so bad for now taking the chance by then to visit MakTeh because I was too occupied contemplating with my personal feelings.
Now I know I will regret for life as Maklong would never regain consciousness and be as healthy as she was. And MakTeh my dearest who always make us feel loved will no longer be here. Two strong pillars of my family; we have lost them in a blink of an eye.
Friday, 26 February 2016
Misused Du'a
Doa isn't a wish they told us. In Islam, we have been upbringing to the fact that doa can solve almost anything. From the littlest problem to an avalanche. It is a weapon if we can use it right. But what if we misused it?
I don't know if anyone had ever misused his doa, because every doa I believed is sacred. However, everything that we say, it can turn into a doa. That is why people keep telling, say only good things, positive matters because in the end, those can turn into a bless-ful doa.
Many months back, before returning to India for my final year, I had my most incredible time, every night to sleep beside mom. I cherished it every second. My dad would checked on me upstairs, and would wanted me to accompany mom. Dad was a busy man, he worked during the daylight, came back when it was Maghrib, and after Isyak, he would leave the house for a badminton or futsal match. Dad loved to join the community and had so many friends. I love that thing about him, always so active in his age and he always seemed happy doing them even though I knew he must be exhausted.
One day, mom was a bit cranky. Injected her dose of fasting insulin for the night, and cuddled her like I did almost every night. I slept early to accompany her. She always wanted a cuddle. I realized as mothers get older, they feel like they are going to be alone and their children would always go farther, that cuddle must be very special for her.
Of course mom is known to be strong, well witted, amazing working lady. Since she recovered from stroke, she had this itchiness and muscle pain around her upper limbs. Even though, she still has not recovered fully, she returned to work. Every night, I had to scratch her back and cuddle her to make fall asleep. I wouldn't mind as that would my mom would do years back when I was also a cranky child myself.
I was tired that night, and something got into me that I felt an urge of saying something to mom so badly. It was a long deep thought that I must say it to her. She blamed me for not cuddling her enough and she couldn't fall asleep. I turned to her and whispered and talked slowly to her while scratching her back.
"Mom", I started.
"You must be strong"
"I am just afraid..that one day...."
And then she stopped me, and asked, "What if one day what?"
I continued
"What if one day, papa is no longer with us...we never knew.."
"I will be far from you...you must be strong, Mom"
She was a bit hesitated when hearing that part came from me. She said, "NO! Papa must be with me. He loved me, and he is all healthy. He would look after me"
That night, the feeling was intense. I didn't know and noticed whether or not she cried or hurt when I said that. She then stopped asking me to cuddle, and fell asleep.
My only intention was to trigger my mom to be stronger. And not only after 1 month later, I got a call from my brother at 2am in the morning, I was awaken from my deep sleep after a lengthy medical bedside teaching, the scariest call I ever received, and the most heart-breaking.
"Dena, papa....he's gone"
The lovable, healthy papa, the jovial and the most witty but amazing dad, is no longer here with us. Now, it has been like 4 months since he left us, I still thought that I was the one who made that du'a. Misused my weapon to such a big loss. I shouldn't have said that to mom, I regretted it badly. Somehow, here and there, I still wish there would be a morning joke from dad or anything fun coming from him from afar. Yes, he is in the heart of course. But that du'a....I have misused it. Never say something so bad ever. As it can turned into a du'a.
Friday, 4 September 2015
Worrisome
Ahad kita balik India doh...
Final year is finally coming. I have mixed feelings now. Especially now where I feel like a loser.
Things changed in 5 years.
People I love at home once strong, now weak.
People I thought I can love once cared now went away.
Friends died literally and those who died in my memory
Youth spirit was blazing with fire, now have dimmed.
Books once made me feel alive, now seems don't matter.
I change, surrounding changes.
Final year is finally coming. I have mixed feelings now. Especially now where I feel like a loser.
Things changed in 5 years.
People I love at home once strong, now weak.
People I thought I can love once cared now went away.
Friends died literally and those who died in my memory
Youth spirit was blazing with fire, now have dimmed.
Books once made me feel alive, now seems don't matter.
I change, surrounding changes.
Tuesday, 14 July 2015
Things I learnt in medical school: To be humane
There's a thing in medical school which makes it unique: it makes you humane.
Already finished my 4th year alhamdulillah and it was certainly not an easy peasy job. To be thoroughly engulfed in every posting was difficult since my attention span dies off so quickly. Most of my friends in my posting are super duper genius. They remember the names of the drugs, they know the classification, the mode of action of those drugs, they knew which nerves passes through which foramen, they knew which type of epithelium lining these particular organs, they knew these despicable hard to pronounced sometimes syndromes....and there was I, feeling blunt...feeling stupid at most of the time.
If to say among all the students in my batch, I would say I am at the lowest spot. I am barely breathing to secure a spot. I am not a genius. I can't study that hard due to my attention span, due to my constant pain on my shoulder and due to my hardcore fanatic self for Malaysian dramas. My triumph this year, or would I say my skinny triumph was definitely there because mom keeps praying for me day and night. And not to mention, from all those helps from my comrades....so many to be named. I feel little.
In Medical school, however, your brain plays only it's minor role to make you pass and secure you a place. Medical school grades you as a human, as a whole, holistically. Why do I say so? One thing everyone going to medical school must know is that, beyond all odds, medical school wants you to be a 'safe human to safe other human beings'. You cannot just being a smarty brainiac kiddo to survive, but you gotta have skills and logic.
I still remember, our deputy dean, Prof KJ once spoken; we actually observed everyone of you. We observed how you were doing during this whole forth year. We observed your attitude, your attendance to classes, clinics and operation theatres, we see how you behaved with your lecturers, how you greeted them, how you were being active and how you were not. Hence. one who studies medicine must be a human not a robot.
If other courses in these world, grade you based on your exams score, based on your assignments and based on your models (architecture, interior design), in medical school; they see how are you or how are you 'safe' enough to be letting go as doctors. You can't be selfish in medical school. You have to interact. Because after all, interaction is one of the core importance of one to be a doctor. You have to interact with patients, as without them you wouldn't be able to practice your knowledge and skills. Furthermore, you have to interact with nurses, with other doctors and many more people in the field. You can't work alone. That is why as in clinical years, which for us in USMKLE, started in 4th year, these are all being observed clearly.
Another is attendance...which many flopped. I am also not a perfect person...sometimes I do feel like playing truant. Sometimes, I did play truant. Pretending to be sick because just so lazy to attend classes which I think as wasting times, but please be mindful. Not to say, but most people take the chances to study medicine lightly. Endorsed by this handful amount of allowances per month, some just went astray. Being too comfortable, some just can be selfish. Attendance is not a play thing if one to know. How are we going to be doctors, who have to save lives if we can't even attend a basic class? Being frequently absent subjected one to be pictured as lazy, incompetent, not committed and if you think these are the qualities they would choose you as a doctor..then you are so wrong. One thing I found, some people are being absent in the name of da'wah...which sometimes they do it since it's not a very important class, so they have to attend for a sharing session and everything...but do they have this slight thought that they are giving a slight tarnish to Islam good names? Sometimes I ponder.
Also, punctuality....which most Malays are slacking off. I must admit, I would sometimes be quite late to many of the things I have to attend to...but then I learnt....punctuality is also one of the basic standard of quality people must have; especially for us future doctors. Being late is permissible but not always. It is sometimes nerve wrecking when classes are said to start at 10 am but one comes 30 minutes later. What is more shameful, is we Malays are the one who are always late...which we are indirectly giving bad impressions to the non-Muslims. I once was a leader for a particular posting, I usually came late, but during that time, I made sure I came 30 minutes earlier to class. It was always myself, then a girlfriend and a christian Sabahan friend who came early...as time passed and it was just 5 minutes before class should started, only that Sabahan guy friend was available. In my mind, where are all the boys? I mean come on, Even a non-muslim portrayed a good quality of being punctual? If you can be punctual for solat, then why not for other matters? I keep on pondering.
Communicating..means not only through speaking and conversation but it is beyond all these. Smiling, and one important thing is communicating by all means through your body language could make your life easier through medical school, especially clinical years. As you see, Kannada and Hindi are not so simple to be thoroughly learnt and be fluent in. Even taking history of patients, my kannada and Hindi mixed together into a cookie batter. But your body language can play a vital role while conversing. You can act out a particular thing you wanna ask the patient; example if you wanna ask about falling down the stairs...you can first draw a basic orang lidi staircase and act out falling....I mean it's simple...I always do that when I am out of local language vocab, sometimes I made the nurses and the patients laughed terribly. But being silly and funny is not a crime at all. I do think our students mostly wanna act cool and super decent. It's fine but sometimes you have to be creative to get your job done....and with all these silliness, the rapport between us the students and the patients is more tightly bonded.
Prof KJ, said it that it is not the cleverness that made one to pass this clinical years, or the whole medical school, but the act of being a safe human being......who can interact with others despite culture, race and socioeconomic background, who can be committed in classes and enjoying teachings, who can be punctual and respecting the teachers...and who can be good in communicating. Human touch is an art...it is a quality of wisdom which not everyone could master. Therefore, we must make it a practice to be a human being, only with that, inshaAllah we can be a safe, good doctors.
Labels: dayanaazhar
adulthood,
doctorwannabe,
medicine,
study,
usmkle
Reality USMKLE V
1) Scholarship? Loan?
- Most students have been living comfortably under the MARA loan...we have to pay back 20% of it. If you are going without any support except for your family, you can score well during any of the major exam, and apply for MARA with that particular result. But of course not only passing, but to score.
- Only a friend had JPA since she is a transfer from Egypt. Some are under Yayasan Pahang, and many other foundation....some are under bank scholarship.
2) Essay MARA
- Sadly but surely, I cannot lend you my copy since it has been years back and I have changed my laptop so yeah...no can't do...so sorry...(I wish there was a back up in google drive though)
3) Tips on answering interview
- Always and always be ready. Study something about USM. Especially the Apex part...since it is the utmost important topic usually being discussed during interview. Be yourself, and be confident. Don't stutter too much....smile a lot and wear decent clothes. Always be realistic when they are asking for your goals and know in detail on how a physician work and team work in the field of medicine.
4) Apps to download which come in handy
- XE: for currency checking
- Ola Cab: For convenient transportation
- Whatsapp : Trust me this helps a lot!
have a blast studying!
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