#ALM

There are some days that I love being a medical student. Today was one such day. It makes the drudgery of ELM worth it.

I don't want next week to be my last week on the ward with this team.

#sexism

Ah, first day on the wards and within an hour, I get called as a nurse by a patient, even though I've been introduced to him as a medical student.

#thoughts

Ah, when did we all start striving towards mediocrity? I suppose there will always be the ones amongst us who are shooting stars, while the rest of us are content to sit in the background to make up the tapestry of night. Pride is a sin. But when is laziness a sin too? And what is true happiness? Is it being content with just enough?

Stupid A. Stupid, stupid A.

And medicine! You shatter such illusions. I don't know how they manage to do it, but they've taken a group of potentially bright individuals and haphazardly smooshed (I actually can't think of a better word) us together and so by the end, they end up churning out mediocre doctors who are satisfied with 'just enough'. Why would anyone bother trying when there's simply no point in trying?

Maybe it's four weeks of ACS talking, maybe it's the medical school here. But I have lost the love. Here's hoping that starting my first clinical attachment will cure me.

Note to self

1. A is to be the MC

2. Have all the bridal party play cardboard cutout instruments while we sing our first song (instead of doing our first dance because E and I cannot dance to save our lives).

(these were two important points that E and I hashed out during our three hour dinner at Sidart - which by the way, was delicious).

#eightmonths

I don't understand how normal women go through this once a month. Because after eight long months, I finally have my period. 

And boy, does it suck.

I've forgotten what it feels like to be bloated and have aching breasts because of fluid retention. And the cramps! dfhjdfhjdfgjhdfg grosssssss. 

Thankfully, this should be over by Saturday when we're at S and R's wedding. And I won't have it while I'm with E's parents. So in the light of all this, I suppose this is all good news. Except now, my mother will actually force feed me because I only just told her yesterday that I've put weight on and so now, she will actually make sure that I do not dive below my current weight because she is already obsessed with my weight and will only see this as a sign that my weight loss was the main factor in my amenorrhoea. Which sucks because I currently feel like a fat whale. 

#endofanera

It was my last day at work today - and potentially the last day I work as a pharmacist. It's such an odd feeling - I've been looking forward to this day for well, ten weeks now. Not because I hate my workplace - no, far from that. I leapt into work straight away after exams and I'm just looking forward to a proper break.

Anyway, it was a good day to finish on - busy enough to be occupied, but not frantic. And no annoying scripts to figure out or call doctors up about. I got to say goodbye to a few special people who came in, but this - this tops the cake:

During my intern year, I had to do this massive assignment where I had to go and interview a patient about their regular medicines and see if there was any issues and what improvements I could suggest with regards to their current regimen. I saw this lady and spent three hours at her place chatting away to her (this was when I was still fairly frightened of patients and before I learnt how to politely extract myself). So, since then I hadn't seen her and that was that. But today of all days, she comes in with a query about an injury she sustained and out of the three pharmacists that could've gone out to see her, the shop girl came and asked me. Of course, the lady didn't recognise me when I went out because it was nearly three years ago that I talked to her, but honestly, it was such a strange moment. It was like God was like, "Oh hey - this is the proper way to close this particular chapter in your life".

It could not have been a more apt ending.

#withdrawing

I am withdrawing from sugar.

It was my flatmate's graduation this weekend and instead of being ripped off by the various restaurants around town (on the night of graduation, all the nice restaurants in town will make you pay for a set menu - and while I can appreciate the sheer logistics of cooking for the masses of people, I also see that it is a very profitable night when people are forced to pay at least $60 a head), he decided on a pot luck. He arrived before the rest of his family on Thursday night to prepare for the potluck and so, baking ensued.

Four hours later, our fridge literally had no more room for anything because it was occupied up by two cheesecakes, a chocolate mousse log and a dessert that we loving call a glandular mandibular.

Fuck me, they were so so tasty.

We still had tonnes of leftovers on Sunday and so I spent the whole of Sunday eating. Like every two hours, I would reach into the fridge and take out a slice of whatever dessert we had. I felt disgusting, but my taste buds were like waaaaheeeey party. ... and I figured I'd just be good from now till when E. comes down in two weeks, because from experience, two weeks is generally enough for me to regain my normal body proportions if I have been gorging myself.

Which brings me to Monday morning and I actually felt like I had a hangover from all the sugar I had consumed. Also, my stomach was protruding like I had ascites or something. I was so tired and had a raging headache. And also, my stomach was weighing me down like an anchor when I tried to do my usual daily push ups.

And tonight, I've spent the entire evening browsing dessert recipes whilst my stomach makes wistful noises. And I know there is still left over glandular mandibular in the fridge.

I am going to brush my teeth before it's too late. My name is *****. And I am addicted to sugar.