Okay, post Internal Assessment 1 or should I rename it (to justify the real suffering) as PURGATORIAL. It was 80 MCQ questions to be answered in 2 hours. It was a fatal combination of 3 papers consisting of 40 questions on Community Medicine, 20 on Ophthalmology and 20 on Otorhinolaryngology (<--see what I did there, opting for a mouthful version of it instead of mere ENT or ORL just for horror value of it). We have to read almost 3 inches thick of lecture notes and don’t get me started on reference books, I might as well run over your cat and make a purse out of its fur and brand it SWAN. I know it is painful rai…..ght! Try multiplying it by how many times you have to pee in a week drinking 3 litres of water everyday.
Well I am not so sure that I am doing well but I always pray that I did, since praying is going to be a vital part of this stage of education. You pray that the Specialist will not taunt you with tonnes of post-graduates questions, you pray the questions is not relating to anatomy especially blood supply and nerve supply whatsoever. You pray that when you are against all odd questioned, and your reply is only “Mmm…” (<--as you fake reminiscing) or “Aaa…” (<--like you kinda get the particular neuron fired-up and going to answer… I mean kinda) that said specialist forgot about asking it and choose to answer them instead. You pray that as you passed the lobby of Ambulatory Care Centre (ACC) that no one fainted in front of you (while you wearing a white coat, with stethoscope around your neck) and the crowd are yelling for you to help when you know that the moment you touch the patient, you are in no way safe if there will be complication of your aid. You are fully-responsible to whatever happened to that victim until a real medical team arrived. See, if there is fractured ribs due to your full force compression, or cervical spine fracture, you ass better be padded with fat cause it going to be in *drumroll* fire. So yeah, that is how important prayer is in this stage of learning.
I never felt any happier and touched and proud when Dr. Aqil Mohammad Daher our part time Community Medicine lecturer, in his last class session goodbye speech said that, there is no reason we should feel inferior to other medical students in other medical school especially IPTA, because (to quote) (unquote) your level of medical knowledge is at par and even better than those students he taught in UiTM (or was it UM <-- need clarifying here, but IPTA nonetheless). So yeah, there you go! Praying is such a weapon that works wonder ain’t it?
The holiday mode. I am not that big fan of holiday because this is where my productivity dropped down to a point of merely Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR), you know where the only energy you ever use is to breathe and maintining body temperature and getting your sugar level stabilized. Exactly like grizzly bear hibernating in wintertime. Yup. My mental needs to be constantly challenged in order to gain function even in a state of sleep-deprivation, or else my neurons will degenerate and I might as well settled as terminal multiple sclerosis patient, on ventilation and life support machine. And yeah, I’ll be getting fatter and lazy and I have to work out the momentum once again like starting a rusty engine of unkempt 70’s Cadillac parked at the back of a typical haunted house and its key is nowhere in ignition, and a psychotic killer is waving his shiny machete towards you. The worst part is, it is useless attempt because you don’t know how to drive manual junkfit piece of metal scrap. Did you get it? Now that is how much I hate holiday. Your potential is at the end part of quadratic polynomial graph (whichever touches the negative axis) with two variables ‘x’ being time and ‘y’ being brain function and ‘a’ is less than 0 so the parabola opens downward.
I’m reading John Weir ‘What I Did Wrong’, a treasure I found in Kinokuniya Value Buy section. But my interest was constantly interjected by my recurring impulsive need to surf internet every now and then.
So here you go, my (assumingly) anticipated update.
See you in my next nervous breakdown.
LOVE
Not Your Stepbrother
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