Wednesday, December 29, 2004
It's coming...
There's going to be a mega-movie...about earthquakes...tsunamis...and destruction. The panic will spread everywhere and people will wonder about earthquakes affecting major cities. Global paranoia will escalate before fizzling out when the next disaster strikes...a giant reptilian monster from the suburbs of Oslo. Tsk tsk.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Deranged maniac seeks love-hate relationship with clone
Human male, 19, seeks female of same species.
Said suitor deems himself to be facetiously courteous, but self-effacingly arrogant (in an underhand sort of way). 'Bookish quiet charm' (i.e. a half-tone between boring and talking vegetable) and yet overbearingly supercilious. Let's rock this mind-warp and drive each other off the jagged edge of sanity's grassy bluffs. Send flames to:
iisdbiwiptlmstt@yahoo.co.uk
Ah yes - I get to speak 7 times. 7. Lucky 7. Hurrah. Francis Nurse, you fool.
Said suitor deems himself to be facetiously courteous, but self-effacingly arrogant (in an underhand sort of way). 'Bookish quiet charm' (i.e. a half-tone between boring and talking vegetable) and yet overbearingly supercilious. Let's rock this mind-warp and drive each other off the jagged edge of sanity's grassy bluffs. Send flames to:
iisdbiwiptlmstt@yahoo.co.uk
Ah yes - I get to speak 7 times. 7. Lucky 7. Hurrah. Francis Nurse, you fool.
Monday, December 27, 2004
Ad: Deranged maniac seeks companion
19 year old human male seeks female of same species. No racial, height or age bias. Devil-worshippers and those with body odour unwelcome. A love of ice-cream, corny 'inspirational' film music and the Lord of the Rings is a bonus.
The desperate youth in question is thoughtful and 'pensively quiet' (a.k.a boring and singularly untalented). Does not fidget but is a chronic fingernail-biter. Somewhat obsessive-compulsive. Underconfident and self-righteous. Kind, thoughtful and compassionate, but a pitifully vengeful swine. Dislikes tripe and noisy small children, loves salmon and gadgets that his tight-fistedness won't permit him to buy.
Send applications and flames to iisdbiwiptlmstt@yahoo.co.uk
Come on baby, let's drive each other off the cliff of sanity!
The desperate youth in question is thoughtful and 'pensively quiet' (a.k.a boring and singularly untalented). Does not fidget but is a chronic fingernail-biter. Somewhat obsessive-compulsive. Underconfident and self-righteous. Kind, thoughtful and compassionate, but a pitifully vengeful swine. Dislikes tripe and noisy small children, loves salmon and gadgets that his tight-fistedness won't permit him to buy.
Send applications and flames to iisdbiwiptlmstt@yahoo.co.uk
Come on baby, let's drive each other off the cliff of sanity!
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Ars longa, vita brevis
This is my second post today (Boxing Day, 2004). See below for the first. That means I'm thinking. Hard. Help me - I'm finally losing it. Or if I'm not, I'm thinking that I'm not. I'm also wondering whether this act of thinking means that either I think too much or that I actually AM losing it.
For some reason the jet-lag hasn't quite worn off yet. I'm beginning to wonder if it's actually the fatigue from this term settling in for the holidays. I'm paying my dues, I suppose. After all, I'm still technically a teenager - several hours of sleep (ought to be) required.
Is it worth the trouble? Getting up every day to the same roll call, the same drum beat that rolls the final curtain ever closer? So many people are led to drop from their high hopes to a lower ledge, to abandon their aspirations and awake from their dreams to a bitter reality that leaves a stinging after-taste for years. If this sounds like yet another exhortation to persevere, so be it - a clarion call for those with no real grievance except that which seems to be fabricated from the fragile imaginings that brings those puerile minds ever closer to the edge of sanity.
Yet - hark to my words - yet - the decision to try is ours. We can choose to keep reaching for the unattainable, to grasp that spindle of perfection beyond all the odds, great or small. Even those with rotten attitudes need not fear - regret is a byproduct of failing to try. My own life is filled with anguish and regret over things a far greater (or lesser, even) person would easily surmount; although greatly blessed in comparison to others, I still manage to wallow in the bitterness and disappointment of many past losses; depression clouds my judgement. I have to tell myself to breathe (and laugh!). Nevertheless, I strive. I strive for that goal because I have realised that this is the one thing that can never be taken away from me - the will to try. The arrogant, self-righteous and annoying shell falls away and no disability or obstacle can ever prevent me from reaching for whichever goal I try to attain. I may know deep within me that I shall never reach my target, but the will - yes, the will to get there is enough. Whether praised or derided, maimed or in health, alone or surrounded by adoration - I shall continue to try. Fault my logic if you will, but my endeavours will last to the very end. Whether time permits a legacy matters not to me - the essence is in the will - to strive till the very end.
For some reason the jet-lag hasn't quite worn off yet. I'm beginning to wonder if it's actually the fatigue from this term settling in for the holidays. I'm paying my dues, I suppose. After all, I'm still technically a teenager - several hours of sleep (ought to be) required.
Is it worth the trouble? Getting up every day to the same roll call, the same drum beat that rolls the final curtain ever closer? So many people are led to drop from their high hopes to a lower ledge, to abandon their aspirations and awake from their dreams to a bitter reality that leaves a stinging after-taste for years. If this sounds like yet another exhortation to persevere, so be it - a clarion call for those with no real grievance except that which seems to be fabricated from the fragile imaginings that brings those puerile minds ever closer to the edge of sanity.
Yet - hark to my words - yet - the decision to try is ours. We can choose to keep reaching for the unattainable, to grasp that spindle of perfection beyond all the odds, great or small. Even those with rotten attitudes need not fear - regret is a byproduct of failing to try. My own life is filled with anguish and regret over things a far greater (or lesser, even) person would easily surmount; although greatly blessed in comparison to others, I still manage to wallow in the bitterness and disappointment of many past losses; depression clouds my judgement. I have to tell myself to breathe (and laugh!). Nevertheless, I strive. I strive for that goal because I have realised that this is the one thing that can never be taken away from me - the will to try. The arrogant, self-righteous and annoying shell falls away and no disability or obstacle can ever prevent me from reaching for whichever goal I try to attain. I may know deep within me that I shall never reach my target, but the will - yes, the will to get there is enough. Whether praised or derided, maimed or in health, alone or surrounded by adoration - I shall continue to try. Fault my logic if you will, but my endeavours will last to the very end. Whether time permits a legacy matters not to me - the essence is in the will - to strive till the very end.
Bah Humbug
I returned the belt. It wouldn't have fit me anyway.
I'm not sure what the cow statuette is for - the inscription mentions ruling the world, but the future is as dim and hazy as the past.
I suppose the shirt matches the shorts - let's hope.
"Another day is going by, I'm thinking about you all the time, but you're out there and I'm here waiting. But now you're gone and I can't think straight. This could be the one last chance to make you understand - I'd do anything just to hold you in my arms...somehow I can't put you in the past. Would you remember me...I know I won't forget you. After all these years, I'll be here; I'll be waiting. I just can't let you leave me once again. Somehow I just can't put you in the past. I'd do anything." Poignant at this time of year. Apt. Fitting.
Pause for a second to remember those in poverty and misery. Typhoons, earthquakes, wars, tidal waves, famines, civil wars, political unrest. Pause for a second to think about happier times. Life goes on. Indeed, life goes on.
I'm not sure what the cow statuette is for - the inscription mentions ruling the world, but the future is as dim and hazy as the past.
I suppose the shirt matches the shorts - let's hope.
"Another day is going by, I'm thinking about you all the time, but you're out there and I'm here waiting. But now you're gone and I can't think straight. This could be the one last chance to make you understand - I'd do anything just to hold you in my arms...somehow I can't put you in the past. Would you remember me...I know I won't forget you. After all these years, I'll be here; I'll be waiting. I just can't let you leave me once again. Somehow I just can't put you in the past. I'd do anything." Poignant at this time of year. Apt. Fitting.
Pause for a second to remember those in poverty and misery. Typhoons, earthquakes, wars, tidal waves, famines, civil wars, political unrest. Pause for a second to think about happier times. Life goes on. Indeed, life goes on.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
I see sunlight
Touchdown at 1940 hrs. An eight-legged Sri Lankan greeted me later that evening. Little seems to have changed - veiled by the heat and humidity, the sunlight finally begins to stream through the clouds, beckoning me for a swim. I think I shall oblige. It's certainly quite a change to see sunlight after weeks of endless grey. Hang on - the great ball of fire's gone. Somebody's thrown a massive cloud blanket that stretches over those turreted apartment blocks. Argh. You can't win it all...
My consultant was ill, my flatmate was ill, my mother is just recovering - practically everyone around me is ill. I boldly predict that I shall not succumb to this current bout of seasonal flu, as this holiday shall demand slightly more of me than last summer's couch-potato requirements...remaining permanently on guard...those 'health sentinels' patrolling constantly. We simply can't afford to lose it now. Consolidate and build. Build and defend. Defend and attack.
It's time to get busy, people.
My consultant was ill, my flatmate was ill, my mother is just recovering - practically everyone around me is ill. I boldly predict that I shall not succumb to this current bout of seasonal flu, as this holiday shall demand slightly more of me than last summer's couch-potato requirements...remaining permanently on guard...those 'health sentinels' patrolling constantly. We simply can't afford to lose it now. Consolidate and build. Build and defend. Defend and attack.
It's time to get busy, people.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Plummer-Vinson (Paterson-Brown-Kelly)
I have reached the conclusion that I am evil. I pursue an ends-justifying-means path to a goal that can never be reached, for to reach it would render the goal an empty promise. I look over my shoulder and would take a swing at those who would come near me. I think I know how to empathise, but I merely squirt a dribble of pity. I live in a crucible, a burning shield that suffocates. Depressing, ain't it?
Why do people think that laymen can regulate the General Medical Council? What gave plumbers and financiers the right to tell coloproctologists that they should be chaperoned when performing digital rectal examinations? In a small departure from protocol:
I AM NOT A FASCIST. I AM A PRAGMATIST. I DON'T CARE WHETHER YOU THINK I'M MAD.
SCREW THE BRIGADE OF POLITICALLY CORRECT NAZIS! YOU STUPID INSOLENT TURDS KNOW NOTHING ABOUT PREVENTING YOUR OWN TERMINAL ILLNESSES AND YET YOU WANT A TRIBE OF SAVAGE PARLIAMENTARIANS TO STRANGLE THE MEDICAL PROFESSION WITH LOINCLOTH-TORNIQUETS. A PLAGUE ON YOU! TO THOSE ANTI-ANIMAL RESEARCH PROTESTERS AND ANTI-MEDICAL PEOPLE - DO YOU KNOW WHY, DESPITE YOUR SCAREMONGERING AND TERRORIST ACTS OF ANARCHY, YOU WILL CONTINUE TO BE TREATED WITH THE CARE AND COMPASSION THAT BEFITS A HUMAN BEING WHEN YOUR COLON HAS RUPTURED? BECAUSE THOSE DOCTORS AND SCIENTISTS YOU SET OUT TO DEMONISE HAVE MORE DECENT SHREDS OF HUMANITY THAN YOU COULD EVER HOPE TO REALISE. THEY CARE ABOUT PEOPLE. THEY CARE ABOUT RESEARCH. RESEARCH FINDS THINGS OUT TO SATISFY CURIOUS MINDS, BUT THOSE MINDS WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN CURIOUS IF THEY HAD NEVER FELT AT LEAST A TWINGE OF COMPASSION FOR THOSE DYING FROM INCURABLE DISEASE.
Phew. Forgive the rant.
Why do people think that laymen can regulate the General Medical Council? What gave plumbers and financiers the right to tell coloproctologists that they should be chaperoned when performing digital rectal examinations? In a small departure from protocol:
I AM NOT A FASCIST. I AM A PRAGMATIST. I DON'T CARE WHETHER YOU THINK I'M MAD.
SCREW THE BRIGADE OF POLITICALLY CORRECT NAZIS! YOU STUPID INSOLENT TURDS KNOW NOTHING ABOUT PREVENTING YOUR OWN TERMINAL ILLNESSES AND YET YOU WANT A TRIBE OF SAVAGE PARLIAMENTARIANS TO STRANGLE THE MEDICAL PROFESSION WITH LOINCLOTH-TORNIQUETS. A PLAGUE ON YOU! TO THOSE ANTI-ANIMAL RESEARCH PROTESTERS AND ANTI-MEDICAL PEOPLE - DO YOU KNOW WHY, DESPITE YOUR SCAREMONGERING AND TERRORIST ACTS OF ANARCHY, YOU WILL CONTINUE TO BE TREATED WITH THE CARE AND COMPASSION THAT BEFITS A HUMAN BEING WHEN YOUR COLON HAS RUPTURED? BECAUSE THOSE DOCTORS AND SCIENTISTS YOU SET OUT TO DEMONISE HAVE MORE DECENT SHREDS OF HUMANITY THAN YOU COULD EVER HOPE TO REALISE. THEY CARE ABOUT PEOPLE. THEY CARE ABOUT RESEARCH. RESEARCH FINDS THINGS OUT TO SATISFY CURIOUS MINDS, BUT THOSE MINDS WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN CURIOUS IF THEY HAD NEVER FELT AT LEAST A TWINGE OF COMPASSION FOR THOSE DYING FROM INCURABLE DISEASE.
Phew. Forgive the rant.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Noel, Noel
I woke up this morning chanting 'mesosalpinx, mesosalpinx, mesosalpinx.' I know what the blasted thing is, but why did it secrete itself into that period of REM sleep this morning? Why? Anyway...
Oh, that lovely warm fuzzy Christmas feeling, nitrogen bubbles in my blood and a clot in my brain giving me that lovely nauseous feeling of wanting to embrace all of humanity and cry aloud my joy at the wonder and splendour of the season. Yeah.
Attended a carol service at All Soul's church yesterday evening - absolutely gorgeous mince pies. As a connoisseur I have to give my stamp of approval to the nice shallow-dish ones. Simply delectable.
One down, three to go...CU, St Augustine's and St Mary's. Oh, how I love Christmas, oh how I love sugary mince pies - not to mention the mulled wine.
That was certainly a lot of oh-ing...I seem to have temporarily lost my bearings - specifically the heavy one that keeps me weighed down and tethered to this good earth - the one that reminds me I'm nothing more than a frail human being. In a surreptitious fit of temporary happiness my mind managed to escape its prison and burst forth with unrestrained candour. Actually, life isn't that great. Always remember - it could be better. You don't have everything, you'll never get everything, but you can damn well try.
For example: Who do we look up to? What do we want to be? By whose standards do we define ourselves?
1) The professor of surgery (he's taller than most people anyway)
2) The professor of surgery (duh)
3) The professor of surgery (cut me some slack, okay?)
Enough of that. Life could be worse. Always remember to wear a lead shield when you enter the interventional radiology room - and don't forget the thyroid shield, for which a waist brace is a poor replacement (in addition to a sure way to make nurses laugh).
Oh, that lovely warm fuzzy Christmas feeling, nitrogen bubbles in my blood and a clot in my brain giving me that lovely nauseous feeling of wanting to embrace all of humanity and cry aloud my joy at the wonder and splendour of the season. Yeah.
Attended a carol service at All Soul's church yesterday evening - absolutely gorgeous mince pies. As a connoisseur I have to give my stamp of approval to the nice shallow-dish ones. Simply delectable.
One down, three to go...CU, St Augustine's and St Mary's. Oh, how I love Christmas, oh how I love sugary mince pies - not to mention the mulled wine.
That was certainly a lot of oh-ing...I seem to have temporarily lost my bearings - specifically the heavy one that keeps me weighed down and tethered to this good earth - the one that reminds me I'm nothing more than a frail human being. In a surreptitious fit of temporary happiness my mind managed to escape its prison and burst forth with unrestrained candour. Actually, life isn't that great. Always remember - it could be better. You don't have everything, you'll never get everything, but you can damn well try.
For example: Who do we look up to? What do we want to be? By whose standards do we define ourselves?
1) The professor of surgery (he's taller than most people anyway)
2) The professor of surgery (duh)
3) The professor of surgery (cut me some slack, okay?)
Enough of that. Life could be worse. Always remember to wear a lead shield when you enter the interventional radiology room - and don't forget the thyroid shield, for which a waist brace is a poor replacement (in addition to a sure way to make nurses laugh).
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Hidradenitis Suppurativa
Lovely. Pus squirted everywhere, splattering the bleached white coat of my firm-mate. Firms have been interesting so far. Yes, indeed, interesting. My (previously limited) powers of observation have slowly been tweaked and I've realised there are several people I don't really like. Still, too many things to tell in this little blog.
I met an a couple of old friends this afternoon for lunch. Good to catch up for a while.
Besides my schedule of 4 carol services accompanied by liberal helpings of mince pies and mulled wine, I'm looking forward to returning to Singapore in just under a fortnight. I do miss my family. Can't wait to make them watch the Lord of the Rings (again) with me...this time the extended edition DVD series of 12 hours, 22 minutes (triple DVD extravaganza)...possibly.
We really are linked by some inextricably complicated kind of tangled web. So many of these patients I've met share their stories; even observing apparently mundane human interactions gives an insight into the depth of meaning of this spinning wheel of life...I'm going all giddy now, spouting hallucinogenic metaphors like a fruitloop drowning in a tub of UHT milk. Honestly, now.
I met an a couple of old friends this afternoon for lunch. Good to catch up for a while.
Besides my schedule of 4 carol services accompanied by liberal helpings of mince pies and mulled wine, I'm looking forward to returning to Singapore in just under a fortnight. I do miss my family. Can't wait to make them watch the Lord of the Rings (again) with me...this time the extended edition DVD series of 12 hours, 22 minutes (triple DVD extravaganza)...possibly.
We really are linked by some inextricably complicated kind of tangled web. So many of these patients I've met share their stories; even observing apparently mundane human interactions gives an insight into the depth of meaning of this spinning wheel of life...I'm going all giddy now, spouting hallucinogenic metaphors like a fruitloop drowning in a tub of UHT milk. Honestly, now.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Lost
Help. Help. Help.
Help. Help. Help.
Help. Help. Help.
Hear hear, my lords.
Tomorrow is yet another day, a tale untold that shall unfold beyond our strangest imaginings.
Help. Help. Help.
Help. Help. Help.
Hear hear, my lords.
Tomorrow is yet another day, a tale untold that shall unfold beyond our strangest imaginings.
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