Here it comes

Countdown: 2 days to 2nd IA

 

Why are there only 28 days in the month of February again?

 

While the others used the day to their full advantage to study, I spend half the day sleeping.

 

Couldn’t find a better time to fall sick

 

@#$%^&*

 

Yay me. 

 

I used to think exams were like chicken pox; best to get over with when you had to.

Now exams are like death traps. You fall into one, you die.

 

Hoho.

 

 

And btw, HOW COME BATCH D2 IS ALWAYS THE ONE TO FINISH LAST?

 

Because my ID number is 0161. And I’m the last student. That’s why.

 

Still, I thought they said they’re gonna rotate the turns this time. Huh.

 

Oh well.

 

Everyone,

 

May the fire won’t burn our skin too fiercely during these 2 weeks of hell

The Brain

I always thought posting photos of the cadavers on one’s blog was disrespectful.

This time though, sorry Mr I-dunno-your-name!

 

Last Tuesday, we did removal of the brain during dissection.

 

No one gossiped in the dissection hall that day. Seriously, NO ONE.

For once, all of us had our heads huddled together around the dissection tables. Impressive right?

 

 

First step: Knock the skull with a hammer and, er, what’s that sharp thing?

 

 

Second step: Saw

 

 

There you go. Nicely exposed brain.

 

 

Third step: remove brain

 

 

Dig dig

 

 

More digging

 

 

When the brain is removed, this is how the inside of the skull looks like.

 

 

The very cute brain 

 

 

Felt like Jell-O

 

 

Budak ini lapar, no kidding.

 

 

-END-

Locked!

I’ve been tea-phobic as long as I could remember.

 

It started when I was in primary school. My younger siblings liked drinking cold tea so my maid would put a jug of it in the refrigerator.

One day, I happened to take a sip of this cold tea and, ptuik ptuik ptuik, it tasted horrible. So horrible that even when I tried to get rid of it by eating and drinking other stuff, the taste wouldn’t go away. 

 

Ever since that day, I was traumatised.

 

Here in India though, my housemates like making tea during dinner. I couldn’t decline it every night and say, “Sorry, but I don’t drink tea,” could I? That would be impolite since they took the trouble making it.

 

So I started drinking tea and hey, it’s not that horrible after all. I began to actually like it.

 

Is there Lipton in India?

 

Last night, I made my first cup. After drinking it, I felt calm. I even felt happy. Ah, all the effects of tea I’d downrightly ignored all these years!

Being underslept these last couple of days, I decided to take an early night so I wouldn’t feel sleepy during lectures the next day. By 12.44 pm, I was already in bed.

 

I tossed and I turned. I couldn’t sleep. Tea effect?

 

Deciding what a complete waste of time it was, I abandoned trying to sleep and opened my books instead, thinking if everything failed, then studying would definitely send me right to sleepville.

 

I ended up dozing off at 5 am.

 

When my alarm rang at 6.40 am, I couldn’t wake up. Plus, I figured there’s no point going to the lectures if I was just gonna end up sleeping in the auditorium. Might as well sleep at home comfortably and save the energy to study later.

Before my housemates left, I told them,

 

“I’ll go to class sometime later.”

 

Having missed the lectures, I had no intention of missing practical and dissection as well.

 

At 10 am, I woke up, took my bath, ironed my t-shirt, arranged the books for today’s schedule and had breakfast.

 

I put on my sneakers and was all set to go to class. I clicked the lock opened and pulled the door’s knob.

 

 

The door didn’t budge.

Oh, no wonder. I forgot to open the other lock. Click click.

I pulled.

 

The door still didn’t budge.

To my dismay, I realised my housemates must had bolted the door from the outside (there’s another bolt-liked locked on the outside) before they left.

 

Not good. Not good at all.

 

I tried banging on the door, hoping someone passing by would be thoughtful enough to help me.

Didn’t work.

 

I started racking my brain. What could I do? Could I call the DK (our apartment’s guard?) ? Does he have a cellphone?

I just needed someone to slide the bolt open for me. One simple act. The idea that I couldn’t go to class because I was locked inside the house was completely absurd!

 

Could I climb out the windows?

 

Living room’s windows. Barred.

 

Bedroom’s windows. Barred.

 

All the windows in my house are barred.

 

What is wrong with these people??

 

Then it strucked me; the balcony!

 

 

Even the balcony is barred!!

 

GAH!

 

After 15 minutes of thinking and coming up with no solution, I gave up.

 

I’m locked in the house and I missed one whole day of classes.

 

Cheers.

Death

2nd Internal Assessment is only 2 weeks away, woohoo!

*stabs oneself with a fork*

 

Die la. A lot of things I haven’t read, haven’t memorised, haven’t….well, a lot of haven’ts lah. Have je yang sikit.

 

Since I dunno what to talk about, and since I’m sick of looking at the same post appearing everytime I clicked on my blog, mari kita bercakap tentang

 

 

 

Death

 

Like it’s an-everyday issue, lol. But let’s.

 

I know everyone who lived would die but I never took it seriously I guess.

 

Maybe it’s being here; being with the cadavers (corpses) 3 times a week, the terrorists’ attacks, the high possibility of being hit by a car everytime I cross the road, I constantly think of dying.

Or maybe it’s just me, hehe.

 

Ever heard people around you say,

 

“Ala, kalau dah ajal tu mati jugak.” ?

 

That’s bullshit.

For the smug expression, for the words carelessly thrown, he/she is full of bullshit. It’s as if they’re constantly prepared for death when in reality, I know they’re not. And that irritates me.

 

I didn’t mean bullshit as in I didn’t believe in it. It is true. When the time comes, regardless of anything, we’d die. But if someone threw you into the sea, it’s an act of impulse to struggle to swim even if you didn’t know how to. Nobody would stay still and let the waves to just swallow them. Most people wouldn’t choose death over life.

 

No matter how lunatic life could be, or how prepared you are of death, at the last minute, you’d chicken out.

As hard as living is, dying is a lot harder. And that’s just dying, not being dead. Being dead I dunno

 

Honestly, I’m scared of dying. I’m scared of the unfulfilled responsibilities. Scared of the apologies I haven’t seeked for. The debts I haven’t repaid. The unspoken words and the undone deeds. I’m scared of what’s awaiting me.

 

Sometimes I question, is it better for us to know when we”ll die? Or is it better not to know?

I don’t know.

 

But if I could choose, even though I know it’s impossible, if I could choose my way of dying, I’d prefer that I know The Day. I’d prefer to know that death is looming even though it’s more painful that way.

 

Humans would never repent until death stares them in the eye. And that includes me.

 

Wallahualam.

Stethoscope

Only a week and I’ve already broken my vow.

 

What vow?

 

Well, upon going out shopping with Effa last weekend, we made a pinky promise to each other that;

 

She could go out but NOT SHOP.

I COULD SHOP but not go out.

 

I went out this afternoon.

 

But if it’s for educational purposes, surely it didn’t count?

Duh, whatever.

 

I own a stethoscope now! *in a high excited pitch*

 

 

My moss green stethoscope

 

It also comes with a warranty and a manual!

 

Nanet: Eh, ade manual. Baca baca.

Nisa: Nak gune stethoscope pun nak kena baca manual ke? Tak yah ar.

 

…………..

 

Nisa: Apesal aku tak dengar ape-ape langsung ni?

Nanet: Ko pakai terbalik la. Tengok manual ni, die pakai macam ni.

 

*blushed*

 

Tak payah tengok manual konon!

 

 

In India, it comes in 5 colours only ; black, grey, burgundy, navy blue and moss green.

And all this while I thought it only came in black

 

So why moss green?

Because it’s green and I like green. And there’s no apple green so the next best is moss green la.

Was quite disappointed. Why no bright coloured ones??

Nevermind, balik Malaysia I’ll get it studded with crystals. Or at the very least, sprayed it in apple green!

 

Um, I should be contemplating about its function right?

Well, the only thing I know is how to listen to the sound of the heart beats. And its rhythm. And….err, that’s it. So, function aside!

 

Besides, colour is a crucial thing. If I were to spend INR 3640 (around RM 300+) on it and am gonna use it for another 5 years, it’s normal to be picky right?

 

 

And it’s the only accessory a doctor could have!

You wear nice nice also, your outfit will be covered with a long white coat.

You wear heels, you’ll end up cursing your feet.

But a stethoscope?

You carry it everywhere!

 

 

Btw, can’t seem to get this equation outta my head:

 

INR 3640 = a Guess bag = a bicycle with gear

 

Instead,

I got a stethoscope which I’ll only be using once a week until I’m done with my first year.

 

Hah, I sound so bimbo-ish!

 

 

 

P.S: Heyyy, I accidently found out they have wider varieties of colour in Jakarta! Yes, JAKARTA. Like orange and pink! WTF. And it’s wayyyy cheaper!!! Only RM 160!! I’m gonna kill……………who am I gonna kill? Oh yes, the distributor!

 

P.P.S: To other medical students, this post is meant for my non-medical-students readers and people back in Malaysia. So if you’re like, “ala, pasal tu pun nak tulis”, shuh shuh, go read someone else’s blog!

 

Just my luck

Yesterday was embarassing.

 

As always, the moment the  lecturer switched his/her laptop off, I would already perch at the edge of my seat. The moment he/she stepped down from the stage, I would already be halfway towards the door.

 

Yeah well, I needed to get to the toilet before everyone else did ok.   

 

I quickly went to the toilet. Since there’s someone inside my favourite cubicle, I waited. After a while, I started feeling restless.

What the hell took her so long?

 

A girl told me that Hanefa’s in it.

 

Hanefa is the person whom I usually raced to class with everyday. Childish but fun.

 

Since I loved tormenting her, I cheerfully banged on the cubicle’s door.

Bang bang bang.

“Hanefa, Hanefaaaaaaaaaaaaa,”

Bang bang bang.

 

Quiet.

 

Then the girl told me that she’s not sure whether Hanefa’s in that cubicle or the one beside it.

 

Cis, tak cakap that awal-awal.

 

 

When the door finally opened,

out came…………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

 

 

My Osteology lecturer.

 

 

I froze.

 

Then she started to laugh. And everyone in the toilet followed suit.

 

I blame Hanefa!!!!

 

After that incident, I went to class for Biochem practical.

 

I was telling Effa about, ehem, this one particular blog. I repeated the bad comment someone left in the website’s chatbox to her. She was listening when she suddenly pulled my cheek to show what’s in front of me. Or to be more precised, who.

 

 

Yup, the owner of that blog was sitting right in front of me.

 

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

 

I instantly shut up la! Tak pernah-pernah sit in front of me tiba-tiba today duduk pulak!!

 

Trying to find a flicker of hope, I told Effa,

 

“But we were talking in Sarawak. Surely he didn’t understand.”

“No Sa. You were talking in ENGLISH.”

 

 

Arghhhh!! Damn me and my English!

 

Just my luck. He must be silently cursing me.

 

Haih.

 

 

P.S: Mum, cursing is an act of passion

Cooking Competition

Our Hari Sukaneka was held during the weekend, initiated by the myth which stated that medicial students don’t exercise/play. They stay cooped up in their rooms fixed in front of their laptops reading books.

 

Ok la, am being sarcastic. It’s basically done out of spontaneity just for fun. It’s last minute, disorganized with no particular AJKs done specifically for our batch.

 

Note to everyone: not saying its a bad thing here ok.

 

What does Hari Sukaneka tell you?

Membawa bola ping pong dengan sudu, melompat dalam guni, mengisi baldi dengan air, meniup belon sampai pecah etc.

 

Since I’m really good at balancing, I chose membawa bola ping ping dengan sudu. I’ve never really gotten over my phobia of blowing balloons.

 

Just kidding

 

We have none of those. Instead, we have tennis, badminton, futsal, netball, basketball, chess. We also have Sudoku and Dota.

There were 4 houses: Merah, Kuning, Biru, Hijau Hitam.

 

It’s back to sekolah rendah people. Except that we didn’t have rumah Hitam back then. How modernisation has changed us!

 

Anyways, guess which competition I joined?

Come on, guess guess.

 

THE COOKING COMPETITION!

 

Well, what choice did I have? There’re no tracks and I don’t do sports.

But honestly? I only joined because of the irony of it.

 

Some might ask, got such thing as irony in a cooking competition meh?

 

Duh. Of course there is.

The irony of how people tend to judge you. It’s kindda fun listening to all the comments people gave me.

 

Response 1:

You? Cook?

 

Response 2:

Bwahahahaha

 

Response 3:

You masak ape Nisa? Lauk bujang; nasi, telur, ayam goreng? Hahahaha.

 

Response 4:

*choked*

 

And the comments kept coming. Puh-lease.

 

So early in the morning today, I went to Nandesh where the competition was held. Our team was assigned to cook chicken. Anything that has to do with chicken actually. See, my lauk bujang was practical. NOT.

 

Decoration je lebih kot, lol.

 

 

Mimi, Helwa, Fiqa, and me (ignore En. Farid)

 

Fiqa did the appetizer: potato-stuffed-with-chicken balls

Helwa did the main course: Nasi lemak, ayam that was supposed to be ayam kicap pedas but somehow turned out as ayam kari (?), sambal ikan bilis, kacang  goreng.

Mimi boiled the eggs and was in charge of the decoration. Now you know why the deco was extravagant. Just kidding Mimi! It was fab

 

I did the desert. See la what I made. See see *riak mode* I zoom ok.

 

 

Tadaaaaaa, crepe! (the tomato has no significant whatsoever)

 

Thanks to Effa who gave the suggestion and googled the recipe for me the night before the competition. Love you lots fa!!

Yalah, if you left it all to me, I’d probably just serve 3 scoops of ice-cream in a bowl.

 

The judge who came all the way from Malaysia at the right time.

 

En. Farid is our….well, he manages the students’ affairs and he comes to India once a month. Though there’s a lot I can say about him, NO COMMENT.

 

I don’t think we’ll win but who cares.

 

At least I know how to make crepes now

 

Comments are open for praisings of course.