And so...

..this is crime prone Subang Jaya where today my house was robbed.
It happened so fast, as my mother and relative was unloading groceries and the door was opened. The robber just came in with a parang (large knife) and demanded that she go into the room while he broke open the master room door. After grabbing her handback and handphone as well, he even had the guts to scold the next door neighbour who came out to look at the commotion.

I was not at home at the time but I thank God that no one was hurt as you can never know what such people are up to.
They went to the police station but everyone knows that it's not much of a help, just an official report to use to apply for documents.

This is Malaysia where almost a parallel system exists.
Of privately guarded suburbs (not our house), where snatch thieves flourish and are never caught. Where we are resigned to unsafe neighbourhoods and everyone is either a victim of crime or knows someone who was.

Malaysia

The heavy-ish air hangs down with the humidity of the night.
Picking up The Star and giving a little squeal, even though I have read most of the headlines online. Hearing Malay being spoken.

Is this where I've grown up for most of my life? Feels a little different, can a year do so much?
Yet there is a difference. A softness in the heart for the cleaners in KLIA toilets, the conversation with the taxi driver who works at 5am till 12 pm to make ends meet. The sing-song mix of Malay and English...."kamu dari overseas" "Masuk KL traffic jam"

It's Malaysia. For now, my country.

Another tale

Here's another fun tale to tell..haha

So earlier this year, I brought my sister (5 years younger) to Taylor's College to inquire about college enrollments and stuff. After all, this was my college, 5 years ago. (Notice the repeated emphasis on 5 years).

It was the usual, talking to the college recruitment people, some of the teachers there.

Then one of the teachers said "Oh so will you be also considering attending Taylor's College when you finish secondary school?"---pointing to me. At this point, I was going to enter year 5 medicine.

And then later another person said "Are you her younger sister? What do you want to study when you grow up?"

Oh well, it's good to look young......

and take nutty pictures..

Or maybe my sister just looks matured...haha... ;)

Anaesthetists Hymn

:)

Once you upgrade, you can't downgrade

So in a fit of desperation, I bought a slightly more expensive block of cheese ($4.69) from IGA. Which was yum! But then when I bought another random block of cheese from Coles at $3.69, it was so different! Not as soft, or as salty.... Which goes to say, once you upgrade, you can't downgrade.

Oh the randomness

Things I do during study break...

...took 3 showers today
...countless trips to the fridge
...constant checking of emails...yet procrastinating on sending an important one
...clean the house

tsk

Lala

If only that kid was mine..Lol.. ;)

If there's one person who can make me angry...

Some people have commented that they have never seen me angry before and have even asked me if I ever get angry..

Well, haha contrary to public opinion I do get angry and there's probably atm there's only one person who can really make me angry and that's none other than my sister. But it's not in a bad way that I say this..in fact I think the only reason she can get to me is because she's someone close to me and someone whom I would fiercely protect and thus fight with. Someone I love enough to disagree with.

One of the things I am truly blessed with is a close knitted family..where nothing's a secret and where I still call my mum everyday (yup it's been 6 years since I've left home and it's still the same routine! haha). Which is why reading this extract really struck me in a sad way and brought tears to my eyes. Because if it was my sister I will feel the same way too..

"My sister is ten years old. Every morning at seven she goes to the bonded labour man, and every night at nine she comes home. He treats her badly; he hits her if he thinks she is working slowly or if she talks to the other children, he yells at her. He comes looking for her if she is sick and cannot go to work. I don't care about school or playing. I don't care about any of that. All I want is to bring my sister home from the bonded labour man. For 600 rupees (17 dollars) I can bring her home-that is our only chance to get her back. We don't have 600 rupees....we will never have 600 rupess." Lakshmi, nine year old cigarette roller in Tamil Nadu.
From True Grit, pg 31 on Child Labour.

In the midst of all the complaining about exams and what not, I am thankful that I have 17 dollars.

For more sister fun....

I am a klutz

If those out there are wondering what we medical students do everyday; well we just basically sit and observe lots of things and try not to fall asleep or get questioned because we will not know the answer.

And if those in Malaysia wonder what the Australian medical teaching is like; basically we get sent out to a lot of "touchy-feely" stuff like community medicine and preventative care. It's probably an excuse as to why I am so dumb in medicine but I digress because everyone else in Med knows their anatomy and physiology and pharmacology esp those kiasu Singaporean students (or rather student who like for example knows that RF is actually IgM mediated antibody against IgG antibodies... no offence to the rest of the Singaporean population) AND still can do the touchy feely stuff so it must just be me.

But anyway....
The object of all the detours above was because today I went on a visit to a divison of GP set up and went along with the exercise psychiologist. They had a exercise group for mental health participants in a hall and guess what, your's truly was asked to join.

Now, I am already a klutz IN sports attire...worst in clinical clothes of long pants (thank goodness I wore pants and not a skirt or heels). And I have not played much team sports since leaving high school. Needless to say, it was a disaster where I just ran up and down the court, hoping no one will throw the ball at me because I will definately lose it and trying to just not get my feet stepped on. And that was just basketball.....there was soccer after that (wow how aussie-fied I am, I don't even call it football anymore)....but I shall spare myself the humilation of telling it in cyberspace. Haha.

But I guess this is the touchy feely thing about being a medical student. That even in the midst of the influx of info that I will never remember, (or will remember but lose it just when the consultant asks the question) it is learning to be humble enough to play along and be part of patients' lives. Yup sometimes we are merely furnitures in the consulting room or objects of hazards in the operating theater but it trains us to be patient and acknowledge our inexperience.
Even in the times of being scolded or reprimanded over things we did not get taught; those are times we swallow our pride and learn.

So even between throwing lots of air balls and doing star jumps in pin strip pants, it's a lesson as important as learning about Lacunar syndrome or whatever not.


But of course, if I ever do have children I will make sure they are not subjected to such humilation of klutizness and play more sport!

Sculpture by the Sea

Last saturday was simply a beautiful day; not too hot or cold.
Thankful for the simple things in life

His ways are higher than my ways

And I thank God for improvements, for grace and for cooperation. :)

GP land

Doing GP now has made me realize how good my father actually is.
Over in Australia, there's an exam that must be taken to qualify as a GP and the system is such that medicare covers the bulk of the bill.

In Malaysia, it's so much different. The doctor is just not the doctor; but the pharmacist as well, the practice manager, the accountant, the radiologist, the obstetrician, the pediatrician, the geriatrician. Etc etc. Even more in a small island like Labuan.
See all, do all. No radiologist to interpret Xrays, ultrasounds. He even used to do gastroscopies.
The more I learn medicine, the more I realize I don't know anything and how much my dad does.

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On the other hand, I have a sinking feeling that history might repeat itself but ya. Oh well.

To Have what it Takes

It is by grace you have been saved through faith -- and this not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. Ephesians 2:8 (NIV)

It is 3am and your `bleep' has gone off for the second time in half and hour. You could weep with fatigue, frustration and misery. The human frame is just not designed to cope with the circumstances of a junior hospital doctor. As you mechanically carry out the required task, longing for your bed and sleep, you wonder how you are supposed to survive -- as a person, as a member of a family, and as a Christian.

At times like this, we need to let the living and active word of God speak to our hearts, as it is given to do. This verse can help us. Our salvation does not depend one fraction of 1% on ourselves. It is totally, 100%, the work of God. Planned in eternity by the Father, accomplished completely on the Cross by the Son, who as our representative and substitute died bearing the just punishment for our sins, it is applied to our hearts by the Holy Spirit. Even the faith we exercise is the gift of God; we cannot produce it for ourselves.

So when our spiritual survival seems at stake because we are too tired to pray, too busy to study the scriptures, and too tied to the hospital to attend church meetings and worship, it is good to be reminded that we are saved by grace. Temporary interruptions in our co-operation in God's sanctifying work makes no difference to our justification. That is his work alone, and Christ has done it all for us. A man as well as God, he understands our fatigue and frustration, and says, `My grace is sufficient for you' (2 Cor 12:9). So in the midst of physical and mental exhaustion, let us rest in him and his never failing promises.

My hope is built on nothing less
Then Jesus' blood and righteousness;...
When darkness seems to veil his face,
I rest on his unchanging grace...
When all around my soul gives way
He then is all my strength and stay
On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

Edward Mote. From http://www.cmf.org.uk/devotion/devotion.asp?day=18&month=10

Once bitten, twice shy

It is no secret that dramatic things changed my life in ate 2006.
All of a sudden from being on the forefront of ministry, surrounded by friends, sure and secure in what I felt was my calling in life plus fresh from mission trips, everything came to a screeching halt.

Changes in family, in country, in university, church and friends. Questions about churches and God. About life and desires. Dashed dreams, fearful uncertainties. Weary and tearful nights.

Almost 2 years later....praise God some issues have been resolved; the lost of some things, the gain of others. Along the way, maybe I am a more cynical, more calloused, with less hype and less optimism but hopefully because I've learnt that it is not my own manufactured emotions or even what I feel....but what I choose to still believe in.

I admit, half the time it seems so hard to believe God does have a good plan for my life; not to harm me...not to harm my family. Once bitten, twice shy..I really don't know if patience and good boundaries do "pay off." But ya.........


And the pain falls like a curtain
On the things I once called certain
And I have to say the words I fear the most
I just don’t know

And the questions without answers
Come and paralyze the dancer
So I stand here on the stage afraid to move
Afraid to fall, oh, but fall I must
On this truth that my life has been formed from the dust

God is God and I am not
I can only see a part of the picture He’s painting
God is God and I am man
So I’ll never understand it all
For only God is God

And the sky begins to thunder
And I’m filled with awe and wonder
‘Til the only burning question that remains
Is who am I

Can I form a single mountain
Take the stars in hand and count them
Can I even take a breath without God giving it to me
He is first and last before all that has been
Beyond all that will pass

Oh, how great are the riches of His wisdom and knowledge
How unsearchable for to Him and through
Him and from Him are all things

So let us worship before the throne
Of the One who is worthy of worship alone

Scenes

MSF exhibition in the city...which was a windy day and the wrong day to wear a dress, conned by the sun!
Would have been just another gawk and go exhibition but I think what really made it different/good was the way it was conducted where each field worker will take a group of 10 or so and explain/share their experiences from one exhibit to the other.




Floride 2008. A flower festival in Canberra where this year's theme is Australian Movies.




Coogee to Bondi walk before our big Feast (or rather gluttony) of unlimited plates of ribs, steak, fried seafood and mussels cooked in rich white creamy sauce for $25 per person........and which explains why I am so fat now......haha.




"The choice we often face is not between the good and the bad, but between things that matter and things that matter most." VW

Maybe

..it's not always about "high" experiences, gush-able blog posts or victorious proclamations. Nor "testify-able" moments or even the quiet sensing of his presence.

..it's just to keep keeping on. To believe that there will be a new rain when what was a river is now barely a trickle.

..that God is bigger than what I think or feel. I hope.

And so the holidays start...

...with a sleepless night (no thanks to an undisciplined afternoon nap) and a 12 o clock start the day after! (with the sun streaming down my face)
I particularly dislike waking late because it takes away half the day but I always fail and end up snoozing repeatedly over and over.

As with most holidays, I always vow "I must start revising!"
But experience has taught me this is how it would end up:

The night before "Oh I am so tired now. I'll revise tomorrow"
Next day when the alarm rings "Oh it's holidays, you often don't get to sleep in, you have the whole day to do stuff." Snooze, snooze, snooze.
Wake up "Oh it's time for lunch."
Maybe fiddle around the computer checking emails and stalking facebook...2 hours later...
"Oh maybe you should take a shower"
More fiddling around with blogs, the Sydney Morning Herald and The Star newspaper.
And then probably "Oh it's time to cook dinner"
Perhaps followed by a guilty conscience and a half hearted attempt at studying in the night..
and then "Oh I am so tired now. I'll revise tomorrow"

And so the cycle goes on..probably interspaced with some outings and more eating
but always telling myself "You can catch up with studying later, it's Holidays anyway, you have the whole day to study"

till it's Sunday and I would only have 2 pages of highlighted text to show and the end of holidays!

Here's to hoping for a more productive one this time! (although I won't count on it! haha)

Sometimes in life...

You just need to have some fun....

In the mail today...

...I received a statement from my super fund (which is the Australian equivalent of EPF/pension) ya a sign of aging, so old! haha

...a gift from overseas!

...Coles is selling Wheatbix for $2 which is like more than 50% off, kind of random because I don't eat it but told it to someone who does. haha

Port call

I remember as a child growing up in the island with no McDonalds, when Doulos paid a visit. It was so exciting to meet the people on Doulos, visit their bunks and join them for a meal onboard.

The next time Doulos came to Malaysia, I just finished SAM, waiting to go to IMU.
The ship did not seem as big than when I was a child.

And now, five years later (it's almost shocking to think that it's been so long since I've left school and how OLD I am now..) it's here in Sydney. Time flies....or mayb I am just OLD.

Again...

I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.

You know.
Lord, let that be enough.

A close call

You just never appreciate the things in your life until it goes missing!
Just yesterday I nearly had a mini heart attack when I could not find my planner. It was 12 something at night and I was mentally going through all the problems I would face if it was gone forever. It had my work numbers, my contacts, most importantly 2 log books with hard to get consultant signatures (with marks for each signature) that stretch back from the beginning of this year! And of which I need to qualify to sit for my end of year exam and current exam!

I even resorted to calling the hospital at 1 am in the morning to speak to security just in case someone found it and brought it in. While it could have been misplaced anywhere from the bus to the street, I had a feeling it was possibly lying in ED where I had made phone calls for the registrar. Dramamama also gave good advice and so after prayer and by faith I went to sleep.

Woke up at the crack of dawn today to go to ED and thankfully, it was still there lying beside the telephone. While it was not life and death; it still reminds me that I can go to God even with little hysterical prayers.

On a lighter note

Check out no4!


And from our bank of questions and answers:

198. Imagine you have a narcissistic personality disorder. How would you live your life and relate to other people?

To think that anyone could imagine how a narcissitic person would live their life is ridiculous. I could come up with a million better exam questions than that! Now, personally, I am able to imagine this senario because I happen to have an extremely creative mind. The right side of my brain (that which is involved with creative processes, since you probably didn’t know) is probably more active than most people’s, that is, of course, not to say that my left-brain is inadequate by any means! I actually think I should be exempt from doing this ridiculous exam because I have contributed so much to psychiatry this term. I’m actually pretty bored with it now; I’ve learned everything I need to, and done everything I can. I’m sure I’ve already passed the term anyway, all my registrars have told me how proficient I am at doing a psychiatric interview. I’ll go and get them to tell me again after this though. There are a couple of people who seemed to be liked as well, like that girl Nikki, who climbs mountains while she studies medicine. I can’t stand that! She doesn’t really climb them, she just goes away to Nepal and studies for 5 weeks so she can take the attention away from the really naturally smart people like me. I was friends with her at the beginning of the year, but once I got her notes I didn’t really need to be anymore. I’m now working on Ingvild and Bec, I think they have pretty good notes as well. Now that I’ve wasted so much of my precious time on this question I’m going to be late for my client. You see, I’ve already started to recruit patients, seeing as I’m already so very capable at psychiatry.

---haha!

Because it's Olympics...

Was just reading something from Readers Digest:

During a race in the one man Fin Class sailing competition, Larry Lemieux of Canada was running in second place and was well on his way to a medal ceremony. Suddenly, the sailor spotted Joseph Chan of Singapore, who was competing in a different race, flailing in turbulent water well away from his capsized boat. Chan had been thrown from his small craft and was in danger of drowning in the rough seas.

Lemieux immediately veered off course, sacrificing his chance of winning a medal and ferried Chan back to his overturned boat. Chan and his team mate were then picked up by a rescue boat. Officially, Lemieux finished 11th place in the event but International Olympic Committee President Juan Antonio Samaranch later recognised his act by awarding him the Pierre de Coubertin medal for sportsmanship.

...........................................................................................................

At the most recent Winter Olympiad, Canadian Sarah Renner was leading her team in the gruelling cross country team sprint ski race when her left ski pole snapped. She pushed on, but it seemed hopeless. On an uphill slope, several skiers passed her.

Then something truly extraordinary happened. An unknown man stepped forward from the side of the course and handed Renner another ski pole. She immediately got back in the race and with a mighty effort, managed to make up some of the lost time. In the end, it was enough to capture the silver medal for Canada.

It was not until after the race that Renner learnt the identity of her benefactor. He turned out to be Bjoernar Haakensmoen, the coach of the Norwegian team who finished fourth. Haakensmoen immediately became a hero in Canada. One Montreal newspaper ran a one-word banner headline simply proclaiming, TAKK the Norwegian word for thank you.

Haakensmoen didn't understand all the attention. "The Olympic spirit is the way we try to follow. If you win but don't help somebody when you should have, what win is that?"

(Rd, Aug 2008)
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I guess these two stories have got me thinking of my own selfishness. All of us know that these people train very hard and a medal is a big thing. If I were in those situations what would I do? Even now, in the mundane hospital life I must admit, the "kiasu" spirit prevails where there is a slight tinge of jealousy if another student describes what they got to do or assist or when they saw an interesting patient you missed. Or when I am unwilling to give up some extra sleep or what not to avoid inconveniences. I guess it is sobering to realize, the reality of my selfishness and hopefully repent.

Identity

A few weeks ago, my aunt kindly brought me to watch a play. It was about the Battle of Gallipoli the first war that Australia had participated in as part of the Allied forces.

For starters, I never knew that ANZAC stood for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. I stay near Anzac Parade, love the Anzac holiday day off and eat Anzac cookies yet didn't know the acronym. Haha.

Anyway, it was very much an Australian patriotic production showing the lives of the young Australians in the battle. I must confess to being a noob, I've sort of heard about the charge of the light calvary (the poem) and WW1 but not much beyond that. It is different to see things from an Australian perspective and for most in attendance like my cousin, they have grown up learning about this in history lessons. Where as I've been learning about Parameswara and the magical deer in the forest..haha.

The thick Australian spirit got me thinking however. If I were to actually stay on in this country, how much of it do I know? More so, how much of Australia do I love and would actually take ownership of especially in the context of a Christian.

How odd is it sometimes to be a 2nd generation Malaysian Chinese living/studying in Australia.
To the Chinese, I am not Chinese enough because I am quintessentially a "banana" yellow on the outside but white on the inside and can't read or write Chinese.
To the Western world, I am pretty Asian in my values, introvertness and even sense of humor.
In Malaysia, I am not Malay yet it is my birthplace and where I grew up. A place where we are not always wanted, sometimes 2nd class citizens but yet at the same time free enough to live in peace.
A person who looks Chinese but who speaks Bahasa Malaysia better than Chinese and thinks in English.

Don't know if you've noticed but we Malaysian Chinese always state our race and nationality as separate, so unlike the Indonesians and Fillipino Chinese who often just state their nationality.

Amy Tan writes about being a 1st generation American Chinese.
Someone should write something about being a double immigrant; a Malaysian Chinese migrating to the western world.

In recent weeks..

...Christmas in July with family in the Blue Mountains.
The chair is classic..and I love creative shops!

Closing night of Hillsong conference
...size vs depth? suited for the masses or alienate but the theological? save "many" or stick to the pure "few"? head knowledge that is not applied? or emotions that are unchecked?
...but for what it's worth, at least some are living what they sing.

...coffee festival


... a road trip with a few friends


On another note, I've not been able to express in words what I am "feeling"
Disillusioned seems to strong a word, "sien" is too flat an expression.

But this hits it right on...

"Within the kaledioscope of my distorted childhood memories is the image of a dusty, deserted road in rural Canada. As I recall it, there were no signs indicating direction or distance to go....
The hour was late and my family and I had been travelling that road for an entire day. We were lost, tired and not a little irritable with one another...

Why not turn back? We had simply traveled too far to do so. Besides, the road had to go somewhere. But where?

The trip had begun with such excitement, an adventuresome spirit about going new places. But now all the zeal had dissipated. I guess we began to wonder why we'd ever left home.

I have often recalled the feelings and frustration of that late-night, dark-road experience whenever my life seemed to be momentarily turn into a mindless or spiritless journey crammed with events (not experiences) and contacts (not relationships)."

Gordon MacDonald, Renewing Your Spiritual Passion.

A day at a time

...."and we will cross that bridge when we get to it," as my consultant psychiatrist always says to his patients.


Indeed.
I cannot look beyond today.

In Australia...

There are lots of beaches...


Lots of wildlife....




And a new species recently discovered!
Postulated to have migrated from the southern island off the coast of Johor.
Natural habitat: Rainforest, temperate region
Eats: Rice and sometimes chilli crabs
BMI: less than 20
Extremely endangered and aggressive animal-do not feed or approach if spotted
May bite!
Looking for female equivalent


Disclaimer: The events depicted in this blog post are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.

Haha

During holidays

Be careful what you wish for

It was late 2005, in sem 4 when my family and I visited family in Sydney. Staying in my aunt's place in Randwick, I suddenly had the idea to visit UNSW's campus because I thought it would be great to bring my sisters and see a real uni (as opposed to our "beloved" converted shopping centre IMU).

Since UNSW's library alone is bigger than the whole IMU, it had the library lawn etc etc that we all picture when we think of an overseas uni. And because Sydney Children's Hospital was just next door, I suggested that we pop by and have a look. Bear in mind, at this point, UNSW was not even in my universities transfer list and I was pretty set since entering IMU to go on to UK (since I decided not to take up a 1st yr offer in UNSW med).

I remember that we went and took pictures of the Fairy Garden and a grand rounds was just finishing in the lecture theater. Just casually I thought wow this is a nice place. I would love to be working here. I never ever thought I would actually end up living in Sydney of all places. My university did not even twin with UNSW!

Now, 2+++yrs onwards, I still sometimes struggle to find the reason God has brought me to Sydney. In some ways, I would have maybe gone crazy if I actually went to the UK and had classes while my mum had the diagnosis of cancer. Not having the 6 months holiday of staying with her in KL. And in many ways, having family here has been heaps helpful as well.

Yet, dashed dreams as well, and seriously unsure even about what God actually wants of my life. If I had ended up in UK, it was almost 100% sure I would have gone back to Malaysia after postgrad years. It's less clear in Australia where there's family here as well, and plus how He has stirred me here. And even more surprising the twists and turns. The selfish me pre med school would never want to go back to Malaysia and then He changed me to die to self after a long protracted struggle (UK and back home, some more for me to share it with others, ah!) and then suddenly change again. How can He do this to me! Haha :)

Now I cannot even say where I will end up...who knows I might even go back after graduation? Or go to another country? I don't know.

Anyway, I just find it ironic that I am back at Sydney Children's Hospital.
Indeed, be careful what you wish or even utter, God hears everything!

Playing truant

My favourite 2nd hand bookstore where you can get a coffee and read

Rows of books and a latte (btw, can anyone enlighten me on the difference between a flat white and a latte?)

I think this song speaks for itself.

Many are the words we speak
Many are the songs we sing
Many kinds of offerings
But now to live the life

Many are the words we speak
Many are the songs we sing
Many kinds of offerings
But now to live the life

Help us live the life
Help us live the life
All we want to do is bring you something real
Bring You something true

(We hope that) Precious are the words we speak
(We pray that) Precious are the songs we sing
Precious all these offerings
But now to live the life

Help us live the life
Help us live the life
All we want to do is bring you something real
Bring You something true

Help us live the life
Help us live the life
All we want to do is bring you something real
Bring You something true

Now to go the extra mile
Now to turn the other cheek
And to serve You with a life
Let us share your fellowship
Even of your sufferings
Never let the passion die...
Now to live the life...
Now to live the life
Now to live the life
Now to live the life

24

That day we met at her parents' house, Rolake and I sat outside watching the bustle in the streets, snacking on fried plantain chips she bought from a passing child vendor. I asked her if she ever felt it was unfair, her infection, and the way that HIV had hijacked her life, thrusting her into this role of activism. She shook her head vehemently.....

...."At this point, HIV is just one of the five hundred things going on in my life."
"Being lonely is bigger than HIV in my life. I'm not alone-I live at home with my parents, I have friends-but it's incredibly lonely. Because the things I want to do, the things I really want to say, there's nobody to say them to. What you call beautiful nonsense, you know-I have nobody to do that with and that's incredibly lonely."


A personal book of 28 stories of people with HIV in Africa.
I must confess that the names of countries do blur into one, even some stories may almost be stereotypical of what we expect of a continent associated with poverty. Yet, stories that remind again and again, this is a broken world where there is so much need for justice and compassion. Grace and mercy.

Always his

Random goodness

You don't need to rinse fish, chicken, pork, or any other meat before cooking. Not only does it not get rid of bacteria, it spreads bacteria (if water splashes from the sink in the process of rinsing). What kills bacteria much more effectively is cooking.

So why do so many cooks rinse their fish and chickens? Because their mothers used to ;)

Here is a quote from Cook's Illustrated on the subject:
Not only is there no scientific evidence to support your mother's practice, science is actually against you on this one. The U.S. Department of Agriculture, as well as food agencies in the United Kingdom and elsewhere, advises against washing poultry. Rinsing chicken will not remove or kill much bacteria, and the splashing of water around the sink can spread the bacteria found in raw chicken. (Cooking poultry to 165 degrees Fahrenheit effectively destroys the most common culprits behind food-borne illness.)

From: http://beyondsalmon.blogspot.com/2006/02/to-rinse-or-not-to-rinse-that-is.html

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Even after reading this, I still cannot not rinse my chicken or meat or fish..
And even though people have told me not to rinse prawns when you cook/buy them because it will wash away the sweetness, psychologically I still cannot do it!

And I am sure 99% of us wash our chickens etc before cooking!

I guess the same logic applies to wiping cutlery with pink tissue paper at restaurants/coffee shops before using them. It doesn't take the bacteria or even dust away...

But of course, dunking them in hot water...that's another story

Another view

So yea, I can be quite a random person at times.
Random statements, random jokes on my sisters like logging on into Sab's facebook and posting random pictures for fun. ;)

One afternoon 2 weeks ago, I finished hospital early and was waiting for the free COFA (College of Fine Arts) bus back to uni/home. Having 30minutes or so to spare, I decided that I should have a look at the gallery since I never have the luxury of soaking up the artsy air even though I've been at Vinnies for 1year plus (as I am always running to catch the bus back).

Being the jakun (uncultured) Labuanite who stays in trees, I honestly thought the pictures were "fugly." I have never been a fan of modern art, and no matter how cultured and artsy I tried to convince myself to be, I just felt the pictures were kindergarden scrawls!

Of course, being jakun as well, I didn't bother to pick up the picture guide and it was only when I finished and walked out, I read the synopsis of the exhibition. It was actually a collection of pictures drawn by autistic children.

And everything shifted after that. The pictures became more than just fugly scribblings but testaments of the children's efforts. No longer judging merely from a stereotypical view of prettiness but triumphant beauty.

I like to imagine that's how God views our lives. The tangles and blotches on our canvas.
Perhaps not necessarily pretty in the world's standards
but...hopefully beautiful in God's.

The things we learn in med school

As told during our lecture today:

Five doctors went duck hunting one day. Included in the group were a general practitioner, a pediatrician, a psychiatrist, a surgeon and a pathologist. After a time, a bird came winging overhead. The first to react was the general practitioner who raised his shotgun, but then hesitated.

"I'm not quite sure it's a duck," he said, "I think that I will have to get a second opinion." And of course by that time, the bird was long gone.

Another bird appeared in the sky soon thereafter. This time, the pediatrician drew a bead on it. He too, however, was unsure if it was really a duck in his sights and besides, it might have babies. "I'll have to do some more investigations," he muttered, as the creature made good its escape.

Next to spy a bird flying was the sharp-eyed psychiatrist. Shotgun shouldered, he was more certain of his intended prey's identity. "Now, I know it's a duck, but does it know it's a duck?" The fortunate bird disappeared while the fellow wrestled with this dilemma.

Finally, a fourth fowl sped past and this time the surgeon's weapon pointed skywards and he fired without hesitation. BOOM!! The surgeon lowered his smoking gun and turned nonchalantly to the pathologist beside him: "Go see if that was a duck, will you?"

A dash of perspective..

I have been dreading the 7 o'clock starts with surgery recently.
And a little frazzled in Cardiothoracic surgery where everything is high powered (I am so afraid of knocking over the harvested veins when scrubbed in) and everyone is highly strung. (Which is why our residents work 7am to 8pm every night for 6 days and then get the whole week off and alternate)

But I am reminded that I am actually in a very blessed place.
My hospital is state of the art and simply beautiful.
I have quite a cushy job as a RA and get paid to attend MDT meetings (of which I would have attend anyway as a student).
And I am reminded of the pre U days where I was looking forward and dying to get into med (and now dreading and complaining about things!)

So yea, life is good :)

And she shall be called woman..

with a mixture of events last week, it does feel sometimes almost cursed to be a woman. (To be theologically correct, we are indeed cursed as mentioned in Genesis; just in a different way for men and a different way for women)

there are times where I am convinced that life would be easier to be born a man.
Easier to go for mission trips (and yet more girls always go than guys)
Easier to do "dangerous" things
Easier to lead at church

where as a woman, depth can be a liability and where there is some truth to this phrase "The average girl would rather have beauty than brains, because she knows the average man can see much better than he can think"
where we are created with emotions and an innate sense of fostering relationships (not merely the bgr kind) yet those are the most unpredictable of the lot
and plus in today's age, at the same time we have to be equal if not better than men in our careers and achievement esp in medicine.

And there is a tug, where we are created to cry and yet in the wake of passive manhood we have no choice but to be independent. Which then becomes a liability because men want to be needed.
What a paradox!
And because we are women, we feel so much deeper and with a deeper love hand in hand comes a deeper hurt.

Which is why I cried today at church service where Mothers Day was celebrated. Where the sermon was simple but a testimony of mothers.
For the women and their pain.
I cried for you, who lost his mother 10 years ago. I remember you even here.
For mothers who have to shoulder a greater responsibility most of the time to make families work.
For the women who are left holding their children when fathers walk away.
For women who are often most affected by wars men plan.

(credits:www.postsecret.blogspot.com)

And yet, also reminded beautifully again...
although we feel so much deeper and with a deeper love comes a deeper hurt.
but with a deeper hurt, births also a deeper love.

The sinful woman who was forgiven by Jesus lavished perfumed oil to wash his feet.
It was the women who stayed while Jesus was hung on the cross.
The godly mothers who were instrumental in teaching their children to love God.
Women also outnumber men in the global church.

I don't mean this to be a guy bashing post. :)
Certainly guys have the work cut out for them as well.

I guess, it is just a reminder to us girls, yes womanhood is full of emotions and we carry the weight of many things, but I believe and pray in God, He will redeem our womanhood even as we try to juggle so many challenges.

Happy Mothers Day.

Snapshots

(Beautiful conference site)

Went for IMPACT, a CMDFA (Christian Medical and Dental Fellowship of Australia) annual camp where doctors and med/dental students came from all over Australia to Sydney.


New faces, old friends (like Yoda!) and although nothing "earth-shattering" new, great reminders of what God is doing and generously allows us to partner Him. Themes of mercy, justice, compassion echoed again clear. A refreshing acceptance of Christians with different ways of worship; John Dickson (Sydney Anglican) giving the main address yet also "free worship" at night and "Brethren style" open floor for people to pray and share.


And I went canoeing in this lake!


Anyway,
Over the past 2 years I've began to be more selective in my reading, greatly preferring older or those with a life-story to tell. Looking back at my walk, my perceptions and responses have been sharply redefined by "suffering." I find myself drawn to those who have endured rather than the next big thing on the Christian scene. There is something refining about the fire and something genuine after the pruning.

And so, this is something I find true....

"I think it is important to see the present calamity in a true perspective. The war creates no absolutely new situations; it simply aggravates the permanent human situation so that we can no longer ignore it. Human life has always been lived on the edge of a precipice...We are mistaken when we compare war to "normal life." Life has never been normal....

War makes death real to us: and that would have been regarded as one of its blessings by most of the great Christians in the past. They thought it good for us to be always aware of our mortality. I am inclined to think they were right. All the animal life in us, all schemes of happiness that centred in this world, were always doomed to a final destruction. In ordinary times only a wise man can realise it. Now the stupidest of us knows. We see unmistakably the sort of universe in which we have all along be living, and must come to terms with it. If we had foolish un-Christian hopes about human culture, they are now shattered. If we thought we were building up a heaven on earth, if we looked for something that would turn the present world from a place of pilgrimage into a permanent city satisfying the soul of man, we are disillusioned, and not a moment to soon.

CS Lewis "Learning in wartime" 1939.

And indeed it is true, for now even me, the stupidest of us, knows.
Thus now I am not disillusioned, but rather was disillusioned before.

I love my mum

and she is just a great blessing to my life!

Her courage and love.
And she's "cute" as well! Late last year, she suddenly wanted to write for the church magazine.

So here's from Cecilia Chua:

Last September, I flew from Labuan to Kuala Lumpur with my family to be treated for breast cancer. I had to have a mastectomy and other medical treatment. Pastor Ling and a few Christian friends supported us throughout the hospital stay. Without them, we would have been quite lost. During my first chemotherapy session, my white blood cell count plummeted to 0.5. My immune system was extremely weak as white blood cell count of a normal person is about 4. Clots of blood were also coming out from my uterine.

I was really scared. I was rushed to the hospital's emergency ward by my eldest daughter Sarah, who was on holiday and could hence be with me. Praise God for His timing. Dr Jamila who saw me at the emergency insisted that I see the gynaecologist who scanned my uterus and found that I had fibroids. I was treated with hormones. Later, during my quiet time, I read Psalm 121. I could not stop crying. I sensed the Lord reaching out His hand and saying that my walk on earth was not finished.

However, the bleeding did not stop. During my third chemotherapy session, my white blood cell count was then 1 but I had no fear. God's peace was with me and 2 Corinthians 5:7 kept coming to me. "We live by faith and not by sight." From then on, the lyrics in the song became real. Tissues were my best friend during praise and worship in church as I would be overwhelmed by tears of thankfulness and awe of our great God. Thank God too for my husband, Meng Yong who was with me through all my six chemotherapy sessions.

I could sense God's presence everywhere even in the hospital. While I was given my 11th herceptin (a new anti cancer drug) intravenously, one of the nurses in charge came and held my right hand. I felt God holding my right hand as another nurse took my blood. Isaiah 41:10 flashed. "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Today I am still on treatment and have six more courses of herceptin. Through Him I had victoriously gone through six chemotherapy sessions and 11 courses of herceptin.

Senior Pastor Daniel's message about "people do not care how much we know until they know how much we care" is true. Sister Pang whom I knew from an alter call prayer, messaged me early one morning before treatment and told me to collect a second book she wanted to give me. It made my day sparkle to know someone cared. People in the hospital asked me why I continued smiling. I shared with them that I was not alone and that there were people in my church who cared. I pray that I will also make a difference in other peoples' lives.

One afternoon when I was very down, God prompted Shirley (whom I met during the 21 days of prayer and fasting) to call me. Her call really reminded me of Hebrews 13:5 which says "Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you." Shirley has been a blessing. She takes me out to lunch and also brings my helper Herliani, my second daughter Sabrina and I home from church faithfully.

I thank my SS14 cell group and Herliani's Bahasa cell group for upholding me in prayer. Thank God too for providing Sabrina who has just finished her South Australian Matriculation programme, to be with me. I am also thankful to everyone who has helped me. I look forward to
have my youngest daughter, Serene joining me next year. Indeed, God is good yesterday, today and forever. I trust my Almighty God and I confess His healing words everyday.

("My Help Comes from The Lord." Floodgates Issue 42, pg 4 Jan-Feb 2008)



Happy 52th birthday mum!

I am..

...reminded of God's amazing faithfulness!

For Jane

I don't normally do this but since it's a request by msn all the way from London, here goes :)
8 random facts about me:

1) I grew up in a small island that is so small that there's no McDonalds! (yea, laugh, laugh. There's KFC and Pizza Hut thought!)

2) Because I grew up surrounded by the sea, I can tell the difference between saltwater fish and freshwater fish by taste.

3) And I never knew that most people can't tell the difference in "fish taste" till I moved to the big city of KL and had people exclaim in amazement that I could.

4) I drink green tea everyday (more antioxidants! haha)

5) I have a spot on my sclera which looks like a haemorrhagic spot. I distinctly remember being bitten by an ant when I was very very young.....but I don't know how reliable my memory is! But it is a good way of telling if someone is looking into my eyes when they notice ;)

6) I had a milk tooth extracted when I was 19 because it just did not fall off.

I am running out of things to say....

7) I never wanted to become a doctor but a war/current affairs journalist (so naive, and of course the lack of insight on my writing skills!)

8) I am sensitive to caffeine and thus avoid any trace of caffeine even in Coke or tea after 6pm. But I make an exception for chocolates!

Won't be tagging anyone.

Just a picture from one of the storefronts in Darlinghurst, the uber chic area near my hospital.

An amazing quote!

"Yet the silence of God is not the same as the absence of God"

from: A Turkish Theologian.
An excellent account of the persecuted church.


More:

...This reality forces us to take another look at what Paul means in Romans 8:28 by "our good." If our good is a stable, safe, healthy, happy, and reasonably wealthy middle-class life, then logically one can conclude that God really does not work for the good of the largest portion of the global church today.

Similarly, when we look at Paul's list of sufferings in 2 Corinthians 11, it's clear that Paul's life will never be known as a good one by today's pop psychology or quick-fix spirituality books....

...But, our highest good is not a problem-free life; it is to be like the Son....

If u plan to raise a child in Australia..

..or maybe any anglo-saxon country..
..or even in Malaysia (come to think of it)

don't name your child Sarah!

In my tutorial group of 16 people, of which half are guys..
there are 3 Sarahs! 3/8 chance of having a person named Sarah.

And in my bible study group last year..
there were 4 Sarahs!

And there is normally a Sarah or two among the nurses on the wards
which always results in me being "perasaan" (aka overrating self) when I hear "Sarah"

At least atm, I'm the Asian Sarah.

:)

It's now time to...

...buy chocolate bunnies and eggs!

The true Asian in me would only buy today when it's heavily discounted :)

Privileged

Having just completed my neurology term, I must really say that I am very privileged to be under my team. Even though I am just a lowly medical student and the bottom of the food chain, the registrars and intern have invited me to join them for lunches & even...."shout" (Australian lingo for buy) me lunches numerous times. And my registrar even bought me a box of chocolates! (It should be the other way around!)

The best part is that after work one day, they even asked me along to Bankstown (which is a good 40 min drive away) for Pho (Vietnamese beef soup) because our intern who's Viet recommended it.

Although I did walk around this term feeling like the biggest idiot as my neuroanatomy is not great, I've learn from this team about the personal side of medicine and working life. How connections and rapport with consultants must be developed.

And I hope I don't look that old, because I have been mistaken as the neurology registrar (not even an intern or resident!!!!) by a consultant... ^_^

***************************

There's new experiences everyday, some which are surprisingly delightful others which require another step of endurance.

Just can't put it in words.
Circumstances I would never have chosen or wished upon others even, yet somehow falls into place in His sovereign rule and wisdom.

Pleased BUT...

When the first winds of dissent blew at the BERSIH and HINDRAF protests, we Malaysians were still skeptical if BN will lose its 2/3 majority. Even as a facebook group was set up, still I didn't think it was possible.

I am especially pleased that Hindraf leader and ISA-detainee M Manoharan, on a DAP ticket, obtained 12,699 votes to win with a 7,184-vote majority. In prison, with no campaigning!
Again, I respect people who dare to protest and even go all the way to prison when they could be comfortable as rich Indian lawyers.

Now, it seems that BN will retain 2/3 but barely survive.
(*update...seems like BN only has a simple majority! for the 1st time in history!! Unbelievable!)

Who would have even imagined Lim Guan Eng being Penang CM? Or Kelantan, Kedah, Penang, Selangor & Perak be under opposition leadership?

Unfortunately UMNO (United Malays National Organization) has not lost that many seats and the biggest losers are MIC (Malaysian Indian Congress) and MCA (Malaysian Chinese Association).

Even as smses are being sent by Christians all over Malaysia because there's a sense of change, an electric atmosphere of both hope for a new change and fear that the current government will sow racial tensions.....

But we have woken up. Hopefully a change for the better!


Malaysians, pray pray pray.

This is groundbreaking!!

I am going to have RSI from repeatedly reloading Malaysiakini every 5 minutes.

So many big guns are going down in a blaze. This is something new, almost revolutionary for Malaysia!!! I am glad though that some really big fish have finally lost! Enough with the cracked highways and collapsing buildings!

But will this polarize us by race even more?
As much as I respect people like Lim Kit Siang, Tian Chua, Teresa Kok...can Barisan Rakyat be united enough to change Malaysia?

Will this be for the better?

I pray it will. Join me in prayer. :)

Anyway, it's time for

some non serious fun...(at my expense).

So, a few weeks back, during ward rounds a patient needed a new cannula. Of course no med student will not pass up the opportunity to poke patients so I went to get the equipment and set it all up.

Slowly but surely I put it in and a tinge of red flashback appeared. Success......

...until I fumbled around the kidney dish, looking for a cap!

You'd have guessed by now that I did not have a cap! And by now the blood was pouring out of the beautiful cannula I put in.
What's even better is that since it was a ward round, 2 registrars and my intern was there!
Of course they saved me by dashing to get a cap in the end, but not till there was a 30cm diameter of redness on the patient's sheets. Which was matched probably by the redness of my face.


Anyway, a obligatory picture of IMU seniors in Sydney.
We are surely growing in numbers as more uk people head over.


There's another fun experience of being a simulated comatose patient for the AMC exams, but that's for another day.

Election

With the minimal knowledge I have in marketing, what I do know is that advertisers often have a target audience and thus place advertisements accordingly.

Which is interesting but not surprising that on the webportal of Malaysiakini, there's an advertised link for migration to Australia. Maybe the rational is that people will get so sick of the current situation in Malaysia and thus, viola, they will click on the link.

I wonder how many of us who formerly professed our desire to serve God still care about the going ins and outs of the country or are we more busy finding ways to advance our careers? Or even merely the best sale, stuff to buy, places to go?

With the election heating up, there's so much to read, to know, to follow.
The injustice, corruption, increasing restriction of religious freedom.

But, I will not say anything because I don't have the right to, until and unless I turn the tide and choose to return home. I cannot write proudly and patriotically like Crz. Cuz he has chosen to stay back.

An eventful week

....where 12 patients passed on in 1 week.
And not just merely patients I see on rounds, but patients that I admitted personally.

Some people may call it post traumatic stress; but I actually dream last week that I had lung ca with 4 weeks to live. (My enemies will breath a sigh of relief! haha :) ).
But it wasn't a nightmare because in the dream I felt okay and just wanted to see my family before I die. I guess in some sense, having tasted a little bit of the sorrows in life, it's alright to "leave" this earth and there's not much I miss.

....and when I am tempted to complaint and feel sorry for myself, I am reminded that I am (at least atm) not terminally ill. In the midst of unwelcome circumstances, there's still so much to be grateful and genuinely thankful for!

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.
Hebrews 12: 28-29

(*disclaimer, I've not learnt nor practiced the full extend of this verse, esp the consuming fire part...which is why I add this disclaimer, as having tasted a little bit of heat, I know that truly I am far off from living this out)

Happy CNY

Of course, this is still my all time favourite

Capre Diem

Rounding the wards; especially when you see patients with similar disease but now in the "special unit"....

....I couldn't help but send a quick SMS to my mum "I love you. Haha"

Every day is a perfect day to say that. And every day is an purchased miracle from God, Ps Daniel Ho.

What's normal?

They were still playing with the resident cat on the ward, smiling at nurses, eagerly eating free ice cream from the fridge.
Only 8 and 10. Was to be their first day back at school but they weren't in their uniforms.

Their father had passed on only an hour or two before.

I can't help but wonder, do they understand the true impact of how their lives have changed?
The "trials" in my life are mere blips compared to theirs and it's a good month for me if I don't tear.
How life can be hard without a father?

But maybe they do; their mother smiled in her sobs as she showed the last pictures of her husband. That eating ice cream and simply going on with life is what's life about.

A crack of vulnerability

I think one of the hardest things of last year was moving to a completely foreign country, suddenly jammed into 4th year as the pioneer batch from a university no one here knows about and then having to rebuild friendships from scratch.

Which by and large is not too far away from what everyone else in IMU experiences when we are suddenly scattered around the world; but fresh from the harrowing experiences of cancer, I struggled to give and listen to airy descriptions of what I did during the weekend nor did not know how to answer "how are yous"
Do you be honest and tell the whole emotional drama to a person whom you only know by name and faculty? And it was a dilemma, for I was dying to have deep conversations yet if a stranger was to walk up to me and poured out their life story, I'd probably freak out!

How do you ask your church friends whom you've probably only meet a few times "How does a loving God fit into the picture of death?" And like it or not, I was not there and am not there as some of my closest friends struggle thousands of kilometers away, vice versa it is unfair of me to expect them to be there all the time.

And even follow up seems a little disjointed. I speak to my pastors back home and then I speak to my pastors here, my pastors back home know me and work through some things; the pastors here know me as I struggle through my current issues. Which is working alright at the moment; but it does take effort and coordination (of which I am grateful to my leaders for being so patient and gracious with me!)

Also, in a sense I've always pathologically looked up to him as the leader. More than expecting calls or emails, I guess what I was really looking for at that point was someone who'd work with me through my theological questions and doubts. Where when my father himself was troubled and my mother needed all the comfort and assurance, where when I had to bridge the gap for my younger sisters, someone who would listen, whom it would be alright to say "I really want to believe in God but I am struggling to." "I am hurting, I don't know where else to turn to because even God seems far now, help me, pray with me"
Though it was not his fault and yes, he has been gracious and respectful so yea don't send flaming emails to him. Haha.

I blame palliative care for bringing up all these emotions again!
But in an essence, I guess I am learning to live out what I always used to sing.....
(blindly and in ignorance!! A song, and along with many songs After cancer (AC,haha) I wished I've never sung without thinking...)

"You're all I want, You're all I've ever needed. You're all I want. Help me know You are near."

So yea, is He really all we want? All we need?
Is He really enough for us when things are stripped away?

My sister,

.....is going to the best uni in the world, haha, in my own biased opinion.

IMU dentistry!
and twinning to Oz!
Congrats babes. Haha.

A demonstration of IMU's lameness:

The weight of wings

You have heard me tell of Gladys Aylward, the 'small woman' of China, whom I heard speak many years ago at Prairie Bible Institute in Alberta. She told how when she was a child she had two great sorrows. One, that while all her friends had beautiful golden hair, hers was black. The other, that while her friends were still growing, she stopped. She was about four feet ten inches tall. But when at last she reached the country to which God had called her to be a missionary, she stood on the wharf in Shanghai and looked around at the people to whom He had called her.

"Every single one of them," she said, "had black hair. And every single one of them had stopped growing when I did. And I said, 'Lord God, You know what You're doing!'"
Elisabeth Elliot

And so, surprisingly I feel different arriving back; not quite so damp anymore
a wee bit more hopeful with a tinge of expectation and a dash of excitement.

I choose to be hopeful even though hope opens the possibility of dashed expectations.
I choose to trust that He knows what He's doing.

Sydney is my home, for this season.