It's Complicated...

So I realised that I didn't post the link to the new blog. Stupid me. Anyways, here you go:

complicated-it-is.blogspot.com

See you soon :D

Goodbye...for now...

Hi everyone!


Ok, so I thought a lot about what I’m going to do but in the end I decided that I’ve made the right decision.

I’m stopping the Diary of a Sometimes Despondent Medic Blog.

But, before you start yelling, I am starting another. Introducing “It’s Complicated”.

I know it seems silly that I’m stopping one blog just to start another but I have my reasons. Firstly, as much as I loved writing Diary of a SD Medic I think that, in a way, it got a little too personal. There were some posts that I really shouldn’t have posted, that concerned things that I should have just wrote in a diary, and then there were posts that were just rants. And although I’m pretty certain that It’s Complicated is going to have some rant filled posts too I wanted to move away from the deeply personal ones. Although I started Diary of a SD Medic as an anonymous outpost for all my inner ravings I realised that there are some things that you should just keep to yourself.

Secondly, the name. If I’m ever going to be happy I can’t go round called myself the Despondent Medic, even if I am only that Sometimes. But I am also oddly proud of that first blog so I didn’t just want to change the name. Hence, It’s Complicated.

Thirdly, following on from not wanting to change the nature of this blog, I wanted to tell you what uni I’m at. It’ll be so much easier to write about my life at medical school if I don’t have to avoid things like module titles and stuff. If you want to find out what uni I’m at you’re going to have to follow It’s Complicated :D

I’ve had so much fun writing Diary of a SD Medic, and I’m really looking forward to writing It’s Complicated. It’s pretty much going to be exactly the same as this blog but without the deeply personal, and slightly disturbing, rants and maybe with a little bit more focus on the medicine side of things. Thank you so much for reading and commenting – it made me feel loved. An especially big thanks to Humaira and Emad for staying loyal even when you realised how crazy I was.

Please follow It’s Complicated. I promise, you won’t be disappointed.

And so, for the last time, here at least...thank you for everything. And toodles. For now. :D

I'm still here...

Hi guys!

I know I haven't blogged in a while. I've been lacking inspiration and, to be honest, not a lot has been happening that is worthy of the blogosphere. I am, however, in the process of creating a new blog to replace this one (don't worry, just a different name but still me!) with a twitter account linked to it (feel free to follow if you have twitter (www.twitter.com/complicateditis)). I will be telling you which uni I go to in this new blog which, hopefully, should be up and running in the next few weeks.

Apart from that, not much. It was my birthday recently, that was nice. I do feel older, although it won't last long - I was the last of my friends to turn nineteen and the twentieth birthday parties are going to be starting very soon.

All for now. Don't worry, I'll be back soon with the final post of this blog and the link to the new one. See you soon.

Toodles.

The End...Of First Year...

This is it. The end. I’ve finished. First year, done and dusted. I’m officially a second year medic.

It was Result’s Day yesterday. I passed!!!!!! Every module!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m sorry. I just can’t get over the fact that everything that I thought had gone terrible actually didn’t turn out that that bad. I shrieked when I found up. I’ve been jumping up and down like a crazed teenage Jonas Brothers fan-girl all day (have you seen them? They're crazy! And when they scream - your brain explodes and you start to lose the will to live. If they were that passionate about the rest of their lives the world would be a better place. Sorry, rant over). And now I can bask in the glory of a medicine free summer. Library, here I come.

So I’m writing this in bed. This is my last night in halls. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Well, actually it’s only been 30 weeks (we pay all that money for 30 weeks!!!!!! Shocking!) but I’m going to call it a year. A year ago I sat in this bed and cried because I missed home. And now I’m sitting crying – partly because of the final episode of Glee and my messed up hormones – because I don’t want to leave. This is my room. It’s full of my junk. I’ve been trying to pack but I just keep finding things. Things I haven’t seen since I first unpacked it a year ago.

It’s crazy. I want to go home. I want to see my family and sit and watch telly and not have to worry about cooking and cleaning and (not) ironing. But I’m going to miss my independence. I’m going to miss sitting up till two in the morning watching telly on my laptop. I’m going to miss going where I want, when I want.

And I’m not looking forward to the arguments that are inevitably going to start after the two week honeymoon period is over. And I’m not looking forward to the arguments that are going to start the moment I see my Dad again.

It’s funny how this year has seen me go through so many medicine and anti-medicine phases. It started off all positive, then it went downhill and now I can’t wait to come back in October and start learning again! Crazy, isn’t it? I think I’m missing vital wires up there.

But first year has been awesome. I thought that I would never be ready to leave school but I realised that it was the perfect time for me to go. I’ve grown so much as a person over this past year. I’ve learnt how to look after myself and other equally important life skills. I’ve lived the student life and stayed up till one in the morning revising. I’ve made great friends, signed a contract on a house, caught spiders all on my lonesome. I’ve been woken up in the early hours by drunken singing and fire alarms. I’ve made the brachial plexus out of pipe cleaners, learnt about vomit, developed a fear of the prosectorium. I’ve learnt a new language – anatomy. I’ve probably seen more plays this year then I have in the past five years. I’ve cried. I’ve laughed. I’ve loved every moment of it.

But, no more medicine. At least, not till October. This summer is all about me. All about indulging my interests. It’s going to be filled with books and pads and pens and word documents and by the end of it I’m going to be happier, wiser and infinitely more well-read. And maybe I can throw in a few short stories and half a novel into the mix.

All that’s left to do now is pack. Good bye Uni. First year has been great. Thank you. I’m not sure who I’m saying thank you to but Thank You. For everything.

:D

Don't worry, I'm not dead...

Hi!!

I promise I'll do a new post soon. With a fancy new template, new name and new information that is totally going to ruin the anonymous thing (well, it will a little)! As soon as I can get the template downloader to work. And assuming my computer doesn't die again like it did last week.

Soon. Promise.

Toodles :D

Driftwood...

I feel so listless. I’m drifting, no idea what to do, can’t concentrate on anything for more than a minute. There was once a time I could watch four episodes of a TV show on iPlayer, one after the other. Now I can’t even concentrate and make it through the first ten minutes of one.

I can’t even finish writing this blog post, so sorry, this is all you’re getting.

Help me!

Exam Free Bliss...Kind Of....

Hi everyone!

Sorry I’ve been AWOL for a while. I had exams, then I went home for the weekend and now I’m back at uni waiting for everyone else to come home so we can do all the things we’ve been saying we would do since the start of the year but haven’t got round to yet. And breathe.

So, my first year of medicine is, almost, over. We have a stupid two week project thing to do starting in a week that I’m none too happy about. Every other course has nothing until results day but the medical school feel the need to give us even more work. It’s a poster project, but not poster as in Year 7 poster on cells or something (do you remember when cells were just circles with a black blob nucleus in the middle – oh those were the days!). This is a proper academic poster that is going to be printed off BIG. We have to present it to examiners and then to our peers. Sigh. Good job I didn’t take my GP clothes home with me. But it shouldn’t be too bad. Knowing medics as I do we won’t take two weeks doing it. We’ll meet up on Monday, finish it on Monday then meet up again ten minutes before the presentation the following Thursday.

And then there is the question of re-sits. I’ve been told that I won’t need to re-sit. For some reason everyone thinks I’m uber smart. I’m not. I may have been, once, but I think I reached my academic peak at 17. It’s been all downhill since then. The exams went...ok, but not great. Looking through my notes after the exam just proved how much I had got wrong. It was stupid, I know, but I didn’t look through them out of choice – the same modules were examined on the Monday and the Friday. But, in a way, seeing all my errors may have meant that I did slightly better in the Friday exam then I would have done, so maybe it’s not all bad. So, even though I want a summer completely devoid of medicine – it’s the only way I’ll be able to cope with another year of pre-clinical – I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll be coming back in August. That’s seriously going to mess up my Ramadan.

So what have I been doing since exams finished? Well, I’ve been trying to write. I had this one idea that I was all geared up to do but now I can’t seem to get it started. Then I have two other ideas that I really, really want to write but they’re too similar so I can’t write both. Well, I could, but part of me thinks it would be pointless. But it won’t be pointless because it would get me back in the swing. Either way I’ve wrote just over a thousand words and that’s it. I’ve lost my drive. I’ve lost my drive to do anything. There’s a possibility I’ve been in a worse mood since exams finished. Oh well.

I really need to do some exercise.

I should go try and write some more. Ummm......

P.S. I saw Robin Hood yesterday and it was gooooood. The trailer was completely misleading. I thought Robin was going to be this bad evil guy but he wasn’t. Although if you do want a really evil Robin read “Hodd” by Adam Thorpe. Apparently he cuts someone’s head off. I like what they did with the legend thought, it made a change from the usual. Prince John was amazing. And who knew that red head from ER would be good in a medieval film. But Robin, Marion, there's a time and a place. And mid-battle in the sea surrounded by dying/dead men isn't it. Just thought I'd say that.

Four more days...

Four more days left. That's all I'm saying. More when I'm sane again. Promise. :D

Trailers in my mind's eye...

I hate how exams are only a week away and I’m still getting distracted. It’s like a part of me just doesn’t care. Actually, there is a part of me that doesn’t care. I can’t wait for it all to be over. Three weeks. In three weeks I’ll be free to read and write. I have all these ideas spiralling around my apparently empty brain so when I close my eyes I can see these movies and trailers because, somehow, whenever I think of a new idea nowadays I see them as movies or trailers before words. I actually know the funny scene that will conclude one of my trailers (far, far, far in the future of an alternate universe). It involves throwing up. It also sounds/looks a lot better in my head.

I’ve actually decided to write a script, or two, of my favourite TV shows. I know nothing will ever comes of them (unless they decide to hold a competition – please, please, please) but it’ll be fun. The dialogue always comes easier anyway.

Ah summer, so close yet so far.

My flat mate is watching Phantom of the Opera with her boyfriend in the room next to mine and I can hear every word of every song. The others are in the kitchen, so even though I’m starving I’m reluctant to go make instant mash in front of them.

Now I just need a quick Doctor Who rant. Apologies in advance.

Oh my. Who would have thought? I mean there have been kisses on the show before but nothing like last night. I mean, what is it with Amy? Actually, what’s with Steven Moffat? First kissogram and short-short shorts. Then “ ‘Unless I get you sorted out right now!’ ‘That’s what I’ve been talking about!’ “ Definitely not seven o clock worthy anymore. And on the Confidential (yes, I watch the Confidential) Karen had her hand on Matt’s thigh. It seems like for the past two days there has been sex everywhere and it’s making me think of the future and arranged marriages and getting me depressed.

Wow, that paragraph took an odd turn.

I really should go eat something. And maybe revise some more. Nah, I’ll go chill, have a shower, get an early night so I can get up bright and fresh for revision tomorrow. Wow, I’m easily persuaded.

Wow. Seem to be saying that a lot today.

Toodles.

The Rambling Thoughts of a Procrastinating Mind...

So I just re-saw the trailer for Julie and Julia, the film that quite possibly made me want to start a blog in the first place. And I realised that ever since I came home from uni I’ve blogged less than I would do if I was actually there. I blame the revision. And so I thought I would blog. Sorry if it feels like a rambling stream of thoughts but a lot has happened in the past 3 weeks. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t make it to the end.

Firstly, revision. Why is it that almost every time I write I seem to be writing about work? Maybe something to do with the fact I’m studying medicine. I’m currently in my hate-medicine phase. I’m assured that this is perfectly normal at this time of year, what with exams, and revision, and the threat of failure and expulsion and impending doom hanging over my head like a great big rain cloud. But I’m staying positive (yeah, right). My exams are in 2 weeks and I feel like I don’t know anything. I also realised that because of the way the exams are weighted I have to do better than 50% on everything to pass. Oh joy.

Next, procrastination. Does anyone know a cure? I really think it should be labelled a medical condition – procrastination: a disease characterised by ennui (I love that word), tiredness and severe lack of motivation. If not a condition then at least a recognised symptom. Of what disease, you ask? Teenagerness. Give it another year and I won’t even be able to use that excuse anymore. The fact that I keep feeling sick really isn’t helping the successful-revision-ness though.

Doctor Who. Oh my gosh! I watched the first episode with my brother and we spent the entire time trying to decide if we like Matt Smith or not. We do. The first 20 mins or so of the first episode (until after the whole food bit) he was very Tennant-esque but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that that was deliberate to show he was still regenerating and trying to find himself. Every now and then he will do something though that will make me cringe a little as I can just see David doing that. (David, lol, like we’re on first name terms or somthing!) I’ve been pleasantly impressed with all episodes apart from the Dalek one. The writing seemed forced and the new Daleks look like Minis (according to the brother). I wish I could write a script for Doctor Who. For anything....

Movies I want to see. Loads. Letters to Juliet. Dear John. The Last Song. Prince of Persia. It’s a Wonderful Afterlife (perhaps, kinda). There seems to be a theme this spring/summer of films to do with letter writing. There’s one called Letters to God that’s coming out to. Either way, I know what I’m going to be doing once exams are over.

Writing. I’ve 3 really good (I hope) ideas that I’m just itching to start. One of them involves letters. I think all the film trailers rubbed off on me.

That might be it. There may be more but even if there is I should really go revise Gut Motility and other equally interesting things. I promise I’ll try harder next time to upload quicker.

Oh, last thing. I want to change the name of my blog. The (Sometimes) Despondent Medic automatically labels me as occasionally depressed. And even if that’s true if I’m to become a more smiley happy person full of pep and enthusiasm (oh the sarcasm) I should really start by changing the name. Any ideas? Something that links my medicine and English lit/Shakespeare loving/creative writing sides?

On a slightly related note, feel free to tell your friends about this blog. Um...yeah

Good luck to everyone in the upcoming exams that I’m going to assume some of you will be having. If not, good luck in life. We all need it.

Lactose Free Romeo and Julietting...

I'm back! I've been home for two and a half days and am loving every moment of it! I never realised how much I missed eating chappattis :D. And arguing with my brother. Good times, good times.

So as you may have realised I've gone lactose free for 4 weeks in an attempt to see if lactose is a trigger for my bad stomach. This was on recommendation of a gastroenterologist who taught me last semester. And I really, really hope that it makes no difference whats so ever. We are *checks clock* fifteen hours and fifteen minutes into my lactose free diet and I am craving chocolate no end. But I can't eat it. I can't eat anything. I can't even enjoy the crumpets that I bought because crumpets with maramlade are no where near as nice as crumpets with butter.... ummmm.....I've resigned myself to snacking on rice krispies with soy milk but that's going to have to wait until the Brother has gotten off the XBox and vacated the living room.

I really should be revising but I'm taking today off. I'm still really tired so I figured one day's recouperation will be beneficial in the long run. ie sleep now so no sleep whilst revising the respiratory system. Oh the joy that fills my heart just thinking about it.

Instead I'm trying to rewrite Romeo and Juliet. My uncle sent me a link last week for a writing competition - "Re-write Romeo and Juliet from the perspective of a young British Muslim. Deadline for entries: 31st March 2010." Thoughts that go through my head: 1) Gee thanks uncle, a week, that's loads of time considering the volume of work I have. 2) How do you rewrite the world's greatest tale of forbidden love for a religion where you're not meant to have relationships outside of marriage?

You can see why I'm having trouble. I have an idea but considering the last time I completed a short story was Feb 2009 I'm having trouble finding my creative drive. Maybe the taste of some rice milk will help...

On a completly unrelated note - I saw "My Name is Khan" yesterday. And I think EVERYONE should go watch it. It isn't your typical Bollywood movie but it has some really important messages about love and terrorism and Islam and is a real eye-opener about humanity. It's about time someone made a film like this. But if you do go, take tissues. Trust me.

And on Thursday I'm going to see "How to Train your Dragon" with the Brother. In 3D. Seriously can't wait :D

Shame I won't be able to join in in buying (and eating) or traditional core sundae with cookie dough and chocolate chip brownie....:(

End of Semester Two...

Sorry I haven't updated in sooooooo long. We've had essays and formatives and exams. Any minute that wasn't spent revising was spent sleeping. Did they go ok? Most of them, but I've got the funniest feeling that I failed anatomy. Shame, considering I knew everything until 10pm the night before the test, then I got really ill and everything just went whoooooooooshhhhh, out of my ear.

But now I'm free!!! In a manner of speaking. Four weeks Easter Holiday, two weeks study leave back at uni then two weeks of exams. Six weeks to revise. Everything. No rest for the wicked!

At least I'll be home :D

And now I need to go. I know this was only short but I'll update properly once I have something worthwhile to rant, I meant talk, about. But there's packing that needs to be done and Mum should be here soon.

Toodles :D

Looking for Frankenstein...

I'm dying of exhaustion/work/medicine! We had an essay in for Monday, one in for Tuesday (I pity the poor soul who has to read that piece of ****) and now we have an exam tomorrow. There's a part of my brain that has yet to acknowledge the fact that 20% of a module will be assessed on Friday. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. What am I going to do?

I know that we're meant to be doctors. Or at least, doctors in training. And as such we have to get used to multiple deadlines arriving at once, juggling 20 million tasks, career, family, friends, social life, sleep. But do I have to get used to it right now? I just want to sleep. Please. For longer than six hours. Preferably without interruptions. I'm so tired that I'm sleeping through my alarm. It doesn't help that the alarm clock is kind of bust. It's possible I pulled the aerial out.....

So why am I on here, you ask. Well, procrastination mainly. I have an hour free now and yet work mode just doesn't want to jump in. Maybe there's a button I can press somewhere. Re-wire my brain perhaps. The  basement in the medical school looks like a morgue - maybe if I just keep walking east/west I'll find a Frankenstein like guy who would be more than willing to chop the top half of my skull off.

No. This is our/my life now. Work, work, work. It never stops. It will never stop. And yes, I know we have holidays in two weeks, but the four weeks we have off (plus the two extra weeks study leave) are going to be spent learning four modules and relearning another four. Oh summer, how I wish you would come soon. Maybe there's a summer dance, kind of like the rain dance...

I jest, I jest. There will be no more re-wiring. Or complaining (I wonder  how long that will last). Instead there will be caffeine. I'm off to revise. Something. Maybe. Perhaps.

An apple for Newton, an orange for somebody else...oh, and Gwendolyn agrees with me...

Today’s post will be a combination of things that have come up over the last, very long, week.

And, oh great, I’ve turned into a lecturer. Does anyone else think those slides at the beginning and end of lectures are pointless – the one’s where they explain what they’re going to talk about, and then what they’ve just said. I know that repeating things are meant to help you learn but seriously, really? Just start already. I don’t want to be here and I want to go home. Everyone else feels the same way. Please, oh please, just get to the interesting bit.

Talking about ways of learning I submitted an essay last week on how I learn. I can’t quite decide if I think it was pointless or not. On one hand it made me sit down and actually physically think about my learning style and, to be honest, doing the VARK questionnaire was fun, even if it didn’t tell me anything new. Although I am inclined to agree with it now after thinking it was stupid when it insisted that part of me likes to learn kinetically. The Anatomy Colouring Book is a gift from God. And my new skeleton, Gwendolyn agrees. Yes, I know it’s a boy, at least I think of it as a boy, but as my friend said – it’s a 45cm skeleton, it already has issues, what’s one more issue really going to do to it’s sanity? Although, it’s not a very good skeleton. The glenohumeral joint isn’t a ball and socket. It has a nail though it so it can’t rotate. The hand (which is all fused) hits the ribs when he/she tries to move. And it can’t pronate/supinate ):

Oh dear, I’ve just realised that Word doesn’t have a very good Medical dictionary. The little red lines are beginning to annoy me.

Normally our lecturers don’t say anything truly gem-like in nature although there were a few good one-liners this week. Don’t get your hopes up, they weren’t joke one-liners; they were just one sentence or so that made me smile/I thought sounded nice:

An apple for Newton, an orange for somebody else (He was referring to clip art of an orange that was meant to represent gravity so it was meant to be an apple...oh forget it)

Decrease the harshness of fecal material (ummm, it’s not yelling at you , is it?)

Back to me, I was just reading those back and they weren’t that great, where they? Oh well, I’m sure one day one of them will say something that will be quoted by med students for years to come :D

This is a slightly random post, sorry.

But the highlight of the week? The picture of the rectal prolapse. Unfortunately the lecture slides aren't up so I'll leave you with these instead. Suffice to say, this made everyone wake up.

And so to conclude...

"Give it me in a nutshell." "Ok, what kind of nut?"

So I tried writing a proper post but all that came out was blabble. I was doing what my English Lit teacher used to call "narrating" - you know, what you're meant to be writing an intelligent essay but instead you end up retelling Jane Eyre or something. Sorry. I'll try again tomorrow. Promise.

Um...that's it...so, bye then...

P.S Credit for the title goes to Terry Pratchett and his "Unseen Academicals". That's not the exact quote. It's actually something about one person trying to explain something to someone else who tries to get them to make it a smaller size of nut, if that makes sense. But you never know with plagarism now a days. Ok, I'm really going to stop now....

On being chased by vampires...

Today was so completely weird that I have to share with you, in all its glory. Today consisted of me losing a LOT of blood. Seriously, not kidding. It wasn’t like a major trauma or anything – it was a series of blood tests that went steadily wrong.

So I had an Occupational Health appointment this morning for ANOTHER repeat blood test. I personally believe they’re making up all this stuff about me having odd results on the surface antigen test – they’re actually vampires who have taken a liking to the taste of my blood. Now I’ve tasted my blood (no, I’m not a vampire – you suck your finger when you cut it, right?) and I don’t see what the obsession is but it’s best not to get on their bad side. I would like to make it to my 19th birthday.

But before that wonderful spectacle was the joy of this morning. See, there’s this guy. I don’t think I’ve told you about him. But he’s this guy (obviously) who I see everywhere. EVERYWHERE. We both go down to breakfast at the same time, normally before any other medics. We both do Medicine. He’s always in the teaching room either before me or after me. Then there was that one time when I left the medschool late and was walking back by myself and managed to run into him and his friend who were coming back to our accommodation from the opposite direction. Right on the corner where the 2 streets met. They were talking about me. It was blatantly obvious. They may be guys but honestly, if you keep looking back at the person behind you and sniggering it’s obvious you’re talking about them. And you’re meant to be smart. Then there was the time we were both on placement and I happened to be walking past his flat at the exact moment he was coming out. It was 7 in the morning. And it was dark.

It sounds like I’m stalking him, doesn’t it? I’m not. I’m not. Promise. Swear, hands down. I am not stalking him. But that’s what it looks like. All that’s actually happening is we both have classes in the same room and we both come down to breakfast early. The other two times (and all the other little ones I’ve failed to mention because it’s too painful to be revisiting such embarrassing memories) were pure coincidence. Once again, I’m not stalking him. But it certainly looks that way. The fact that I’ve never even spoken to him before certainly doesn’t help. And the fact I have him on FB (it was freshers - you added everyone!)

Anyway, back to the matter in hand. This morning’s Oc Health appointment was during the first lecture which meant I got an extra half hour in bed. It also meant I would be coming down for breakfast when everyone else (and him) would be leaving. I timed it so I would come down by the time the bus had gone. So I was walking down the stairs and saw the bus out the window but it was alright because there was his friend, in a seat at the back, and naive little me assumed he would be sitting next to him.

Guess who I almost ran into as I pushed open the door?

Somebody hates me.

The day got better:

So this Oc Health Appointment – she took blood. Ok, fine. (I find it really weird that you come to medschool and everyone tells you the Hep B Blood Test is the first one they've ever had. I must have had at least 25/30.) I went to my doctor’s appointment. He also wanted my blood (see what I meant by vampires?) So I go back out to the waiting room and realise my arm is feeling a bit wet. I look down and my white jumper is covered in blood. The plaster over the first blood test “wound” (well it might as well have been) was saturated. The nurse had managed to pierce the vein on both sides, causing a haematoma. On the day I decide to wear white.

Definitely hates me.

By the end of the day I had had 3 vials of blood removed, lost another vial due to bleeding, lost more blood due to “other” reasons. Add to that the fact I’m iron deficient.

Not a good day.

Let that be a message to all medics – please be careful when taking blood. Otherwise your patients will be walking round looking like they’ve self-harmed.

I haven’t honest.

They say denial is the first sign of guilt. On a roll today!

Wanted: One Muse...

We got our results on Wednesday. I didn’t fail. Which I suppose it a good thing. Suppose. I almost did. If it wasn’t for anatomy I would have failed two of the modules. I don’t understand how there was a 40% difference in some cases between my non-anatomy and my anatomy marks. All I can say is that the Anatomy Colouring Book is a god-send.

I should just be grateful but I’m not. I could have done better. Forget the fact that I revised almost every day of the holidays; in some way I could have, should have, done better. Oh well, let’s just forget the dream about graduating with honours. I shouldn’t care. I should just be happy.

You can probably see that I didn’t take it too well. Let’s just say it involved chocolate cake and cream. And the inevitable guilt that followed.

Forgetting about results now – I’ve been in a really weird mood for the past week. Down and depressed. Empty. Mostly empty. We’ve had so many 6 o clock finishes that I swear I haven’t seen the sun in weeks. I just feel like I’m drifting, which is weird considering the goal is to graduate. I can’t seem to shake it. It didn’t help that Thursday (GP day) was just a ball of loony. Everything was weird and got weirder from the taxi driver who sounded like that Indian Pirate Lord from Pirates of the Caribbean to the point when my friend said yes and I swear down on my life she said no (you kind of had to be there). Last night was good. So was this morning. I went on an expedition to find a newsagent that sells the Times (can you believe the shop downstairs sell the Sun but not the Times!) Then I spent four hours on one anatomy session prep (shoulder and pectoral girdle – oh the joy. Not). And now it’s back.

I really want to write. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling like this. But I can’t. One – no ideas. Actually, there is an idea. But I can’t get it down. And part of me doesn’t want to because I know it’s going to be just as embarrassing as the other “book” I wrote. And then there’s the other idea that can’t seem to take off. I don’t care if it’s even a stupid fanfiction story. I just need to write. Please. Something. Anything. There was a point two and three but they sort of already got covered...



Wow, reading back - this has been one self-absorbed post full of in jokes that you aren’t going to get because duh, you don’t know me.

Maybe next week will be better.

Drowning in a tub of anatomy flavoured treacle...

So we finished exams the first day back. And for that I am eternally grateful. I can't imagine having endless weeks of the things, like some unis. The only problem is that since that blessed Monday (at 3:30 to be exact) it's been nonstop. Seriously. It feels like I haven't even had a chance to breathe. Going to Tesco on Saturday was the highlight of the fortnight. And then I immediately felt guilty because I should have spent that 2 hour field trip doing work. We have about four essays due in over the next few months (a lot for a medic). I have one due in on Thursday that I haven’t done yet. And for that to be sufficiently shocking you have to realise that I’m a geeky goody-two-shoes who always gets everything done at least a week (alright, at least a week-end) in advance. I’m planning on doing it on Wednesday afternoon.

And then there’s the anatomy. I kind of like anatomy. In some ways it’s easier to learn than physiology and it’s wayyyyyy better than histology. But in the past 2 weeks we’ve had 9 anatomy sessions. Nine. That’s like a two fold increase on last year. One of our modules is pretty much just learning every bone/muscle/tendon/ligament/joint in the body. It wouldn’t be so bad but the prep reading (and for me, geek as always, note taking) takes hours. Hours. HOURS!!! And it’s boring. I’ve taken to playing videos on I-player or youtube on my laptop whilst I write to try and make it a little more enjoyable. But I can’t watch something new otherwise I get distracted. And I find it hard to find programmes considering I’ve exhausted almost everything I can think of. I've watched every episode of every series of 5 Disney Original series. Next thing you know I’ve just spent forty minutes scouring the web looking for something that fits all my criteria. Bad times.

Little things are getting me excited now. It’s the same for all medics at my uni. Like the fact that next Monday we finish at 2. And the Tuesday after that we finish 12!!!!! I’m even looking forward to opening my brand new pack of revision cards. This is a new strategy for me. Normally I write up all my notes on plain paper using coloured pens. In addition, this term, I’m going to have a card per bone/muscle/tendon/ligament/joint/nerve. Every little helps. But I think it’s a sure sign that I’m going steadily crazy.

My brother keeps saying to me “you chose the profession, stop complaining about the workload” (apologises if I’ve already told you that. Anything non-medical passes straight through my brain. Anything medical passes straight through too, to be honest). And although it pains me to admit it, he’s so right. And I know it’s all going to be worth it in the end. We had a hospital day last week. I spent a day shadowing a fifth year. The whole idea is to make us see that the two-year science degree that is pre-clinicals is worthwhile. My fifth year said she starts work in about 6 months. And she wasn’t scared or nervous at all. She couldn’t wait because in 6 months it’ll all be worth it. The thought of working absolutely petrifies me. I’m going to have people’s lives in my hands. One slip of the tongue/wrist and I could have killed someone. You do realise that giving us that level of responsibility is like giving an arsonist a box of matches and disconnecting the telephone lines. And yet, I can’t wait. One of the patients called me doctor. Hyperventilating aside it was really kind of nice. Maybe that much responsibility should be seen as a privilege, and not a curse.

And until then it’s late nights, moments of happiness found in the most unlikely (geeky) of places and mugs and mugs of Tesco’s instant mocha sachets.

P.S. For everyone who still has exams, good luck. For anyone who comes to my uni, good luck for Wednesday. If you don’t hear from me over the next few months it’s because I’ve dropped out of medical school and have started work as a bin man.

It's not your fault...

This is taking personal to a whole new level. But I've been feeling kind of down lately and then I logged into facebook (my actual account, not my despondent medic account, even though I've wrote "despondentmedic" later on...you'll see). And I realised that I don't want to put all the generic stuff on my status. So I started to write (on Word) what I really wanted to write (on FB) and it kind of turned into this. And then I realised that I wanted one of the people involved in the...for want of a better word, rant...to read this but I can't send it to them. I just can't. So I decided to put it up here instead. Don't feel like you need to say anything. You can if you want (my heart flutters everytime it says "1 comment needs moderating", lol), but you don't have to. Anyway...  (NB the bold doesn't mean shout it or anything, it's just an emphasis when you say it out loud. You normally put italics but I'd already used them. This was a bad idea. NBB I'm not crazy. It was just a bad day)

DESPONDENTMEDIC wishes the world would stop turning, wishes that she could make it stand still, wishes that out of the darkness someone would come find her and tell her the truth. It shouldn’t be this hard to live, it shouldn’t be this hard to step through the crowds, it shouldn’t be so easy to blend into the background, especially as you’re meant to be surrounded by people who love you. Yeah, right. Falling again. Flew too high now falling again. I can see the wall and I know that it’s Germany all over again. So high, so tall, impossible to climb, too solid to chisel through. How long must I walk 'till I find a hole? How long will I walk 'till I find a hole? It shouldn’t be this hard, but it is. Is it my fault? They always say it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your fault we got divorced, it was never your fault that we argued. But they don’t realise they’re just screwing you up even more. Yeah, maybe some people just accept that but I was never an acceptor, not when it comes to life. It wasn’t your fault – you say that to a person who finds it hard to believe and hard to trust and they’re just going to doubt your every word even though they love you so much. It wasn’t your fault.


It was my fault, and the realisation is harder to bear than you thought. Then you grow up, you swim through the treacle of disappointment that seems to be rising an inch every minute, every second, every whisper. And then something happens. Another abandonment. Another abandonment by someone who claims to care about you. Well if you cared why did you go? If you thought I was going to hurt myself why did you disappear? If you were concerned I was going to do something bad and come running to you for support then why did you make it so that when something bad does happen I can’t find you? You claim you care, you even claimed unconditional love. And if you never said that’s how it came across. And then you do something like this. I’ve complained to you before. I’ve told you about him, about his lies, about his claiming unconditional love and how it’s so hard to deal with the pain when he disappoints again. When he hates, again. I’ve told you, I must have. And if I didn’t surely you got it from the book that you got everything else from. And then you do the same - I still love you but I don’t want to see you anymore. It’s like being dumped by the boyfriend I’ll never have. It’s worse than being dumped by the boyfriend I’ll never have. It’s like falling out of a plane without a parachute. It’s like being told you’ve got incurable cancer. It’s like having someone cut out your gut and then making you eat it. It’s like watching your child die. It’s like watching your mother die. It’s like dying. With no hope of a hereafter.

And you know what’s so funny? In some ways you were right. There is something wrong. I am broken. Cracked. Missing. Misplaced. I am, and you realised, and you told other people but you never tried to help me. You took a responsibility that you thought too heavy for your already overburdened shoulders and you threw it at others. If you were so concerned why didn’t you try to help me? If you were so concerned why have you left? If I didn’t love you why am I still be so sad about this? I am broken. I am cracked. I am twisted inside. Misplaced. And you made it worse. You left. You left. You left.

Do you want to know the only good thing that has come out of this? I’ve finally admitted to myself that I need help. No, that’s wrong. I knew I needed help a long time ago. I came out of the womb knowing there was something wrong with me. But you spurred me to actually be proactive and go get help. After everything, the caring, the shirking of responsibility it was your inaction and your selfish actions that made me go get help. You made me go get counselling. And for that I hope I can one day thank you.

I miss you. And I love you. And I want to hate you but I can’t. And I don’t want you to come back because then when it doesn’t work you’ll leave again and third time’s a charm.

I miss you. And I’m sorry. But it wasn’t your fault – well, it quite blatantly was.

House Hunting...

So I promised you a post on the delights of hunting for houses. Well here it is...

First of all, just let me say, that I hate house hunting. With a passion. Partly because it means that life is changing. Partly because I'm still not 100% certain I'm living with the right people. But mostly because of the changing thing. I don't want it to change. I like my flat. I love having my own space. I have no idea what I'm going to do in a house with 4 other girls.

In terms of people, house hunting has almost killed me. Just when I thought everything was going well in terms of friendship and the fact that I had managed to emerge from my shell and make friends it all went downhill. I was going to be living with the girl in the room next door to me. All of my friends are linked through her. All of them. But then she decided that she wanted to live with the boyfriend who hasn't even got into our uni yet. I'm Muslim. I don't want to live with a guy. So, very nicely, I asked her to think about what she was doing because, in her deciding we were all going to live with the BF, I was automatically being pushed out.

She, a law student no less, started bad mouthing me off to everyone. Everyone. And asking people to chose between us. That isn't mature. That's downright mean. And because of her I'm now living with 2 people I get on with really really well and 2 people I barely know. One of them, lets call her D, is the complete opposite of me. She loves going out. Loves it. We barely speak.

Part of me just wanted to stay in halls next year but I was too much of a chicken to break away from the only group I seemed to have going for me at that current moment in time. And yesterday we found a house. A very nice house with nice sized rooms and a nice landlord and its only a nice stone throw away from the uni gate. It's very nice. So nice I payed a holding deposit.

And then, (apologise for the rambling - I'm using this blog as therapy), I had a panic attack at 1am this morning. I suddenly realised the reason for the pit in my stomach that I had been having ever since we told the estate agent we were ready to commit. This pit normally means something bad is going to happen. As per usual, my gut was right.

You see, I'm muslim. I know I've already said that but it's fundamently important to the story. Muslims don't drink, go out (to pubs, clubs), don't have BFs. They are pretty much the complete opposite of students. I had decided that this was going to be alright - that I could live in a house with people who do all the things I'm not meant to do and it wouldn't be unIslamic in any way. Then I realised that it might be. And suddenly I was drowning in the fact that I was going to have to tell my new house mates that I couldn't live with them any more. That they would have to find somebody else. That they would hate me.

I've since been told that as long as I don't do the things they're going to do I shouldn't burn in hell. I just hope the person who told me this was right. Either way, I'm living with people I really don't have a lot in common with. Next year's going to be fun. Not.

The pit hasn't gone yet. I doubt it ever will...

Coming out...of hibernation, silly...don't laugh I know what you were thinking...

Hi!

Apologises to my (3) readers at my lack of blogging of late. The inevitable exams meant that I was hibernating and then the return to med school (plus house hunting rubbish) completly threw me. And so tonight is me-night and I thought I would share my thoughts with you.

Now all that remains is to decide what to talk about...um...

The holidays. Bad. Full of revision. End of.

Exams. So so. I can't decide how they went, to be perfectly honest. I'll just wait for the results and beat myself up then.

Umm...Oh, my apparant lack of anominity. Apparantly someone (a certain Mr/Miss Anonymous) worked out which uni I go to. Well done! Your prize...will be in the post lol. Sorry, you don't get anything. I'm a student. All my money goes on food and stuff. But I do want to say that if you do work out who I am I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone all the personal stuff that's on here. I created this blog so I could rant without fear of reprisal. Tell me though, if you work it out. It will be nice to finally meet someone who reads this rubbish. On the other hand, feel free to tell other people about the blog. The more readers the merrier!!!!!

I warn you now that this blog could get very personal over the next few weeks/months. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to share what I'm considering sharing but...we will see... (bit of a cliffhanger there. Sorry :D )

And now I shall return to me-night. Another movie/tv show before bed methinks. Sorry this is so short and disjointed - just wait until tomorrow's rant about finding a house. That should be fun :D

Decades...

The other day I looked out of the window and it was snowing. Lots. And at some point during the day I said "The last time I saw snow like this was a decade ago". I've never felt so old.

And now we start a new decade. Normally, I like New Years. We stay up, sometimes have friends over, watch the fireworks, go out onto the close (or cul-de-sac if you're weird) and I watch whilst everyone else gets drunk on champagne and we all try and sing Auld Lands Syn or whatever it's called and I just goldfish and promise myself I'll learn the words for next year. It's fun, I enjoy it.

This year I went to bed so I would be able to wake up early enough to do some revision. I haven't wrote the annual new year's diary entry (the only diary entry I write nowadays) and I fell asleep to the sound of neighbours setting off fireworks. I didn't sleep, not really. 2 hours proper sleep interspersed with 6 hours of on-edge-semi-slumber isn't sleep. I haven't slept since. This does not bode well, especially considering I have an exam in 5 days, I go back to uni in 3 (assuming the new layer of snow goes) and I still haven't managed to go over every topic once. Sigh. Hopefully this isn't going to be the template for the rest of the year.

2009 started off bad. Cambridge rejection. Exams. General all round stress. I realised that as much as I loved the 7 years I spent at my high school I was majorly stressed all the time. Since going to uni I've felt so much lighter, if you know what I mean. Until, of course, this "holiday" if you can call it that. During what type of holiday do you get up at 7:30 to revise and miss playing in the 6-8 inches of snow that fell today (mum got the car onto the close and then had to be pushed back up the drive by the neighbours - it hasn't stopped snowing all day and she has to go into work tomorrow cause of a deadline :( ) so you can revise. Revise. Revise. Revise. Man, I feel sick.

But no. This year will be better. This decade will be better. I've been given an opportunity to change, to make new friends (who have been keeping in touch over the holiday - good sign??) and to have a fresh start. And, as my brother keeps saying, "you chose the profession, stop moaning about all the work".

Look out, world. Here I come :D