Update

I just came back from Penang and had a phenomenally wonderful stay there filled with FOOD FOOD FOOD  and more FOOD. It is good to recharge after all.  :) 

And you know what : 

I might be the prisoner of this city physically, 

But I am not imprisoned spiritually. 

I live free, 

In my dreams. 

Volunteering at Pandawas Academy Part 2

So let me resume my story. I continued volunteering at Pandawas Academy again, and I taught back Miss F. from last week. Today, we moved on to action verbs, whereby I would teach her how to answer when people ask "what did you do" ? We learned 15 of them in total, including peeing. Haha. It was quite fun, and I have to act it out, and it takes a lot of time for her to get my questions at times, but I am quite persistent eh. So *pats on the back for me* :) It started with initially requiring me acting out a lot so you can imagine me being quite animated on the desk. But it was good, because this sparks her learning interest, and every time if she forgets and I reminded her she will have the "AHHHH" moment. So probably she is learning something. We did some math questions too, addition and subtraction - but more to explore regarding her math talent in the future for our engineer to be! When we ended the session, I spoke good bye to her in Farsi, and she cuddled around me and gave me a big hug, which was kind of a heart-warming moment for me. :)

Other additional info I have learnt about refugees in Malaysia :
These refugees can't get any sort of qualifications coz they don't take any formal examination in Malaysia, so they would be leaving with whatever the refugee school has taught them. Even though education seems to be of least importance in the priority ranks for the refugees, but education is most important in helping them move up the social ladder in the future. If only they can see the world beyond this.

Volunteering at Pandawas Academy

So, today is my first day of volunteering at Pandawas Academy. Pandawas Academy is a school for refugees founded by Robert Levitt, and Jeanette Chan, Francis Tay and Jessica Wee with the aim of using advanced teaching methods to cultivate the students ability to think independently, innovate and solve problems beyond the traditional techniques taught in schools. As of current, Pandawas Academy has approximately 70 students, majority of them who comes from Afghanistan, with a minority of students comprising of refugees from Iraq and Pakistan.

I was assigned to F., a 10 years old girl from Afghanistan. It started with an introduction session where I shared my a bit of my life to her, and she has to reciprocate by telling me her life too. She left Afghanistan when she was young, and stayed a few years in Australia as refugee before coming to Malaysia. At the age of 10, she seemed to be extremely cheerful and polite, despite having limited English vocabulary, she makes her best effort to communicate. We spent the first hour which was supposed to be an English tutoring session talking about her family, with me teaching her on how to construct sentences talking about her family. We started with 5 sentences about each other, with me telling her about myself, and she on the other end, has to learn how to construct simple sentences about her life. When the proper lesson is supposed to begin, I asked her what is her preference, and she said she would love to learn how to construct sentences, and that is how it began. Her topic was family, and her face lights up when she mentioned about her family. I taught her about surnames, family members, hobbies, occupation - so she would be able to link them to her family, and would be able to answer those questions when people ask her about her family. I had a small giggle inside when I she tells me her whole family loves to eat hamburgers, which I think is really cute. When she did not know about a word, she would shake her head and give me a sheepish smile, and I would assure her that it is alright and I would try to understand her, despite us having language barriers.

The second hour of the tutoring was a Math session, and we played some games which required calculation instead. Whilst playing, I tried to ask her which part of Afghanistan she came from, trying to get a better understanding of her life before she came to Malaysia, but she did not respond - possibly because she did not understand what I was talking about. But : I managed to ask her what is her ambition, and where would she want to be when she grows up. She told me that she wanted to be an engineer, and she wanted to go back to Australia and study as an engineering student when she grows up. I told her that she needs to speak fluent English, and she has to be good in Math, and she nodded her head vigorously, and told me that she is very good in Math, which was inevitably true. We ended the game and before she left, she taught me a few words in Farsi as well : "thank you, teacher, and good bye"; which was really sweet of her, and we made a pact to teach each other new words in our future sessions. It was a good experience, after all.

Reflection :
This is my second time volunteering with Afghanistan refugees, and my second time tutoring the underprivileged, and somehow having doing it again 2 years later, I feel that I am more capable of handling the communication barriers that were present. I also noticed the difference between treatment of refugees in United Kingdom vs. Malaysia. In United Kingdom, refugees would be placed in government schools and receive proper education up till college level; whereas refugees in Malaysia would have to turn to refugee schools set up by NGO for education. Refugees in United Kingdom would be given a stipend of 20 pounds per week too, and would be assigned to council house for their accomodation. The benefits provided to refugees in Malaysia remains unanswered whereby pertinent aspects of their life such as accessibility to healthcare, job prospects is still unknown, to me. With 150,000 refugees in Malaysia, how is the government managing them as a whole?

Time

If only I have more than 24 hours.

But here's a note to myself, keep going. You're almost there.

Hospital Diaries : Locked in Syndrome

Have you ever imagined if your soul is locked inside your body, and you can't express yourself except only by blinking? Imagine you can't move your limbs even if you want, imagine if you wanted to talk so much, but words could not come out of your mouth, imagine when people attempt to feed you but you could not open your mouth, move your tongue. Imagine living your life in a container.

I saw a patient who was diagnosed with locked in syndrome this week. When I first saw Mr. M, he was lying on the bed, with a tracheostomy, and a nasogastric tube intact. I talked to him, and he could respond only by blinking his eye. And that is the only way you communicate with patients with locked in syndrome, and that has been the way of communication for the entire week. I would ask a question, and a yes would be two blinks and a no would be one blink. It is not easy getting the blinks right, because sometimes you never know whether one would be blinking spontaneously. And to be honest, from his gaze I know he didn't like me from the start, because I would sense this kind of angry gaze from his eyes, and I know he doesn't like me touching him. But, I started to pay attention at the little things he need, and do simple things for him, such as : wiping saliva off his mouth, helping to notice if he had any skin infections, and  helping him to wipe of the mucus secretions that came off his tracheostomy tube. Eventually, I think we are actually communicating, because I sometimes he would refuse to do my commands and I would ask : Why ? Does it hurt? and he would blink two times. And sometimes after I finish my interview, I would ask - do you want me to call the nurse ? and he would blink two times, and after that, I asked can you tell me why? and I would list out a series of options for him, and he would blink two times when I got it right, and I would reconfirm it. It turns out to be a two way communication in the end, and I am glad that I did not give up on him. At times, I would give him words of encouragement, and tell him to be strong. I know it is hard, and I would see tears lingering from his eyes at times.

What they say in medicine is true : it is never made for you to feel good about yourself, but it is to make the patient feel good and make them feel better, and by paying attention to little things, you can actually make a big difference. Communication is a two way street : you listen, and you respond with care, and things will work out in the end.

Hospital Diaries : apraxia

So I saw a young man today who presented to the hospital following a motor vehicle accident. He could not speak following his accident, and doesn't seem to be comprehending much either. He could vocalize, but couldn't speak spontaneously. He could repeat the word "pen", but couldn't identify a pen. When asked to smile, he would simply repeat "smile smile smile", for he does not understand the commands. It was devastating if you imagine your soul being trapped inside a body, in which you are not sure what to do with. All your previous memories essential to your survival was wiped out, ie he would not be able to use any tools presented. This is what they call ideomotor apraxia.

I dozed off while writing this yesterday, and here is an update : the patient was able to hold a pen and use it to write a word (that doesn't make sense), but was unable to write a full sentence, still could not name a pen, but is able to talk now. I am so happy for him, and I hope he will be back to his functional state soon :)

At times when you question yourself if this journey is worthy of all the sacrifices that you make, having witnessed such miracles would convince you that this is the right path. Now just keep going :)

Shit pies ! :)

I guess work is the only way that can maintain my sanity at this moment. I can't explain what is going on in my life right now, but I know this is not the end of the journey. I  believe that everything happens for a reason, and if life throws shit at you, just make them awesome shit pies.

Hospital diaries : Multiple sclerosis

Knock knock. An old man pushing a young man bound to a wheelchair entered the room. The first thing I noted was a bag for containing urine hanging out of the man's legs. It was a follow up session for this young gentleman with multiple sclerosis, who had been diagnosed at age of 22, but the specific variant of multiple sclerosis that he had was a bad one and the disease progressed beyond its control. It is called tumefactive multiple sclerosis. 

It is the first time I saw a male patient with multiple sclerosis, as they are more common amongst females. To my surprise, it is 1 out of the 3 cases that they saw in the hospital. How lucky I am. This gentleman had a suprapubic catheter placed because he had developed a fistula (meaning a connection between his bladder and his bowel), and couldn't urinate through the normal route (ie. the urethra). He also developed a sacral sore which I am guessing from the pressure sores from having been wheelchair bound for the past few years. As a result of his sacral sore, he had to have a stoma inserted in his bowel for feces elimination. He spent his past year in ICU undergoing all sorts of operation to get his catheter and stoma in place. 

The thoughts that came into my mind was : I couldn't imagine what sort of life I would be living if I couldn't walk, couldn't talk, couldn't urinate / defecate and had to rely on other people for the rest of my life. I salute the father as well, for he appeared cheerful, and was constantly reassuring his son throughout the interview. I am not that brave to be able to dwell through whatever that the gentleman is facing, and I laughed at things that I usually fret about / worry about. What are my problems compared to theirs anyway?

Stand up, stand up they say.
Leave no room for pain,
Sorrow nor doubts.

We are in constant war,
And there are no rooms for weaklings.
Do not cry, so they say.
But who is there - to listen to the poor soul's cry?

:)

This is the best birthday present ever.

Got accepted to present my research in an international conference for the work I did in US a few months ago. I feel like all the sweat and tears are all worth it now.

Note to self : Keep going. Don't give up. :)

May

Hrm, May is finally here, a very much dreaded month and an anticipated month. The dread : USMLE !! The anticipation : end of USMLE :) It also marks the month I'm turning into 1/4 century old!! (Lol I sound like a piece of antique)

But I am here to write about my dreams. A friend of mine from Taiwan is currently doing his clinical rotations in Imperial, and as I read about things that he is doing and stuffs that he has been thinking about, I regret for not being able to appreciate the teachings and lament them as chores without realizing its importance and significance. On the same note, I too regret for taking things for granted during my university years, allowing opportunities to pass by. I too, regret for not putting in my very best, not trying my very best in everything that I do. Those days I seemed to have an excuse for everything I do. I seemed to be a terrible person back then. So here is my confession for all the times that I have allowed to waste, for all the things that I did not take initiative for, for all the things that I took for granted.

Here's a promise to myself : never make the same mistakes anymore. Live mindfully and reach for the stars. Never look back, and ever look upwards.

Also,  happy, happy birthday to myself!! I apologize for being so syok-sendiri on my blog but I believe nobody reads it anyway :p

10 weeks down to USMLE. 

Note to self : I will be able to manage it. Take a deep breath and carry on. I can do this! :) 

Hello whassup?

I have been away for a while, and pardon me but I really had intentions of abandoning this blog until I received a message from a friend who told me : have been re-reading your blog posts, and I realized that you have grown a lot (yay). So yeah, I guess this blog shall be temporarily kept alive by virtue of those words, for the sake of preserving thoughts and memories.

So what have I been doing when I was away, not blogging? Soul searching (lol). But that's partially true, I am in the midst of a quest in fulfilling the dreams of my life! (yes i made that up, partially. it is not as happening / amazing when you have to read a minimum of 10 hours everyday) I am currently in my 2nd year of medical studies, and it is becoming increasingly hectic, coz I have a major exam coming up in late May, USMLE (abbreviation for United States Medical Licensing Exam). So if you are questioning what am I thinking of everyday when I am staring into blank space, that's it - USMLE.
.
Have I told you guys I went to the United States for research? It was a short trip, around 7 weeks sponsored by my Uni, and I was fortunate enough to stay in East Baltimore, the dangerous side of Baltimore with a neighbourhood famous for drug-dealings and crimes. Everyone has been asking me how was it : and to be honest, I felt like I was back in Imperial College again. I was lucky enough to get the opportunity to participate in ward rounds, and scrubbed in for observation of operation for a day too (10 hours of standing, by which my legs were announced dead by the end of the day). I visited some other areas too - NYC, Philadelphia and Washington D.C., and DC was by far my favorite. I have always enjoyed visiting museums, and that's why DC was really fun for me, I guess. I missed out the Brooklyn Bridge coz I didn't have time for it, so I'll save that for next time. How about Philly? I would say : it's the CHEAPEST place to tour out of the 3!

So what's next in my life? For the next few months I would be spending a lot of time with my chair, desk, computer and books till end of May and hence would be having minimal social contact time. I might resort to blogging to vent out my frustrations, so please wait patiently till you hear from me the next time. :)

Loves!