Friday, April 28, 2006

i've got you babe

Ah Rmandha is asleep on my right while Ah Nggun is asleep on my left. Miss RusRus is chit-chatting with Dr Intan while I'm getting ready to doze off. I think 4 of us (Miss RusRus, Ah Nggun, Ah Rmandha + I) have some form of dynamic that's complimentary of each other. Really bizarre but true. When the 4 of us get together during 'jaga', some weird-out cosmic crap happens 'cos all the patients in the delivery room would deliver by approximately 8pm giving us time to clear paperwrk and finish follow-ups by midnight. Now that we're all finished with work, we can sit back... unwind and miracle of miracles: SLEEP. Today the rest of us got our own delivery. YEAYYY!! That was all I wanted: to at least get 1 delivery in Cibabat hospital before I leave.

Delivery is hard work. I feel so tired just after 1 birth. The mother is an old primigravida (1st time mother who's 40 yrs old). Her cervix (door to vagina) was taking forever to dilate despite the third oxytocin (contraction aid) drip. She had been in the delivery room since the evening before yet nothing... The child hadn't descend and she felt no contraction. I can understand how uncomfortable she feels but there was really nothing I could do if the baby's head isn't engaged. So there she was moaning and groaning for hours, kesian her. Sucks to deliver-eh? As I was going about the day, I gave her vagina a random check and suddenly BABY’S HEAD alert!! I quickly consulted Dr Intan regarding Mrs Teja’s current condition and to my surprise / dismay / horrors / weird delight (??) Dr Intan’s response was, “So?”

moi: So… what should we do?
Dr Intan: You mean what should YOU do?
moi: Help her to deliver?
Dr Intan: What you waiting for?
moi: I don’t know what to do.
Dr Intan: Do what you're supposed to do. Just help her to deliver. Guide her.
moi: (OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG)

I wasn’t prepared to deliver a baby yet. I mean I haven’t really read through the delivery chapter and didn’t quite memorize the delivery ‘song’ [there’s a stupid indon nursery rhyme that the mid-wives altered to memorize delivery steps better. I hate that song] yet. And Dr Intan refused to help me and there was noone else who could help oversee my actions. Thank goodness there was a mid-wife student who stuck by me and helped me get the equipment ready as I paced up and down waiting for the right moment to start labour. When everything was done, I emptied her bladder with a catheter and got her ready to push. Mrs. No-Contraction just could not push her baby out. The midwives crowding by me were getting so exasperated ‘cos the baby’s head had been engaged for quite awhile yet no progress. She was old, tired and outta strength. Most of all she didn’t know what the hell ‘push’ meant since she never had a kid before and didn’t know what a contraction felt. They’re supposed to feel like sh*tting (people don’t really know but it’s pretty much the same thing and that mothers sh*t while delivery A LOT) and attempt to push the sh*t out. The midwives were helping me egg her on as well. One of them had already cradled Mrs No-Contraction’s head in her lap as she pressed on the latter’s belly. Another helped me to perform episiotomy (cutting through the perineum to make space for the baby’s head). I was getting all fired up encouraging her to continue pressing on that I didn’t realize the head had already poked out. The midwives quickly alerted me and I placed my hand just under the kid’s mandible and attempted to pull it out. The baby was still stuck so Dr Intan had to intervene by tugging hard. I never could bring myself to pull on the head so hard ‘cos it just seems so harsh and I couldn’t estimate how much power I should administer. I didn’t wanna fracture his jaw!! All of a sudden, BOOSH the baby "blojos "(splurted out). I was lost for words. Meconium had started to flow from where the baby came out of. Dr Intan snapped me outta stun-land and I quickly clamped the umbilical cord and snipped it apart. I was really concerned that the baby had not cried. I kept trying to look over at the perinatal nurses stimulating the child but Dr Intan reminded me I had more important issues to focus on like placenta-removal. The baby did cry after what seems like ages and I breathed a sigh of relief. The placenta removal went by smoothly and I had to wait till the suturing of her torn vagina was complete before I got paper work done. Sitting by the desk while filling in the parturition report, it finally hit me: I delivered a baby.



Bet you think the old chick's the mother: SHE'S NOT THAT OLD-LAH... she's PPP's grandma. L-R: Grandma mother's side, grandma father's side, father, baby, mother. Guess one of the most rewarding experience comes when the entire family comes over to thank you for helping save mother and child *beams inside*

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

here pussy pussy pussy

(Dopod)

Damn I'm tired. I did score a nap just now but I still feel wiped out. Ah Rmandha and Miss RusRus are asleep beside me and Ah Nggun just woke up... I'm due to administer Magnesium Sulfate into my patient's left butt cheek. I alternate between butt cheeks every 4 hours. Her BP is still high as f*cks despite. Damn. I need someone to give me a good shoulder and back massage. Hurts like f*cks.

3 weeks have gone by. Whoah. Sometimes I feel the amount of work I do here (Cibabat hospital: satellite) in 3 hours can actually top the amount of work in those 3 weeks at Hasan Sadikin accumulated. Crazy huh?

The first week in Hasan Sadikin was fun: just training (that I regret not paying too much attention to). 2nd week was us being stationed in the Gynecology Clinic. For those who are a big fan of the female genitalia, the Gynecology Clinic is indeed a pussy heaven. I came face to face (literally) with at least 15 sick pussies a day. There was an episode on 'Sex and the City' once regarding Samantha's greying pubes which left her traumatised. Now I can imagine what horrors it might have brought her. Grey pussies are um... ancient looking. I just hope I get hitched before the bush down there starts greying out: at least I'd have scored myself a Tiffany!! Contraception & Family Planning Clinic hasn't been too stressful either. The awesome thing about Contraception Clinic is we get probably 4 patients, at most, a day. How cool is that?!! Mostly we spend our time yabbering crap with each other or eating. Although I did use this opportunity to learn up on contraception... since so many of people I know are using it. Now it's the real deal: delivering little ones into this almost f*cked up world. Funny how it's not as ooh-ahh-miracle-schmiracle as I expected it to be. It's more of being concerned to keep both the mother and baby alive. Sometimes you get so caught up in the tension of the situation that you forget to enjoy the little joys life could bring.

Abit the chun technology for a village hospital right?

Us hanging out in the OBGYN polyclinic awaiting patients

What we usually do in polyclinics: meddle with sms!!

baby bash

And I thought Surgery was tiring. OBGYN is a murder. My mini group: Miss RusRus, Ah Rmandha and Ah Nggun have been working in the delivery room since 7am. We're absolutely knackered and it's only 9 at night. 10 hours of hell to go. There's just so much to do here because there's only 1 resident and 1 chief resident. Since the chief resident is constantly in the OR, therefore a lot of responsibilities fall on us. It's cool in a sense I finally get to witness all the action: normal deliveries, pathological deliveries, spontaneous abortions and D&Cs (Dilation & Curettage): induced abortions. We're assigned to our own patients and it's pretty heavy duty stuff. I haven't delivered my first child yet but I look forward to it.

Since there are so many misconceptions about birth-giving (mostly planted by TeeVi...l), HERE are some trivial facts: babies are NOT covered in blood post-delivery, they're covered in white stinky amniotic slime; parturition does not end 'till the placenta is expulsed; when the baby motions outta the vagina it takes just a split second for him/her to slide out (the pressure actually shoots the kid out like a human cannon); many a time the mother's perineum (the border between vagina and ass-h*le) gets torn and it hurts to d*mn hell but one thing the tele got right: DELIVERY really DOES HURT!!

22:58

It's a 'lil quiet now. Weird thing 'bout delivering mothers, they always mysteriously tend to deliver at the same moment. The last 2 ladies just finished giving birth so now we can heave a sigh of relief. I still have my pre-eclamptic (hypertensive) patient to monitor while Ah Rmandha just helped in assisting his first spontaneous delivery (I haven't delivered yet) and it was a bewildering experience for all of us. He stumbled, kekeke, during the clamping of umbilical cords, actually it was more of like him flailing the clamp about 'cos he was trembling as he tried to fasten the clamp onto the umbilical cord. I can relate. I totally get it 'cos this afternoon, just as I arrived (fresh from knowing nothing), I was thrusted into assisting a patient with the removal of her retained placenta and I just froze. Procedures we ever memorize tend to flush down the loo when we face them in real life... It's hilarious but true. You can yabber the steps to perinatal management like the back of your hand but when they drop a baby into your arms you'd probably end up doing nothing else but a rock-impersonation.

Monday, April 24, 2006

*hope on deliverance*

Had been thinking so much today I sent my brain right into migraine.com. This is when the fear begins. The trip to Cibabat hospital was an eye-opener. The three weeks in Hasan Sadikin hospital had been so uneventful (which is exactly the way I like it) that hearing ‘bout all the things we HAVE to LEARN and KNOW and CARRY OUT from tomorrow onwards in Cibabat literally scared the sh*t outta me. I mean I’ve only watched one delivery. Watched, not deliver. That’s just lame: watched although far off better than Miss MuMu who has not even witnessed one but she did get to see a D&C (dilation and curettage = abortion) and I haven’t. I thought it was just a protocol thing this morning, as in orientation of the hospital and maternity ward, introduce ourselves to the chief resident and so forth when we went over to report ourselves to the new hospital. Suddenly as the chief resident was harassing us, asking how many tasks we have achieved, I realized that I know absolutely nothing. OMG. Here we go again with the me-knowing-nothing business. Suddenly all the fears of killing people rushed back into my system and I feel so lost I actually puked in my bathroom when I reached home. I’m petrified. The reality has started to kick in. I’m dealing with 2 lives: mum and child. If I make a mistake someone dies. I don’t want anyone to die. Means I can’t make mistakes. To not make mistakes means I gotta know stuff. I don’t know stuff. See where it’s going? OMG. Sh*t.

Right now I’m feeling a lil’ better. I popped in a couple of mefenemic acid (pain killer), got my aromatherapy crap going on and have Sigur Ros murmuring in the background. I don’t know what the fuss is ‘bout Sigur Ros. I must be challenged in the music-intellect department. The only great thing about their music is they help me sleep better. Would it mean that they bore me to damn death or that their music is soothing? Whatever it is, the headache’s gone so there must be something in the humming that works.

I’m afraid I will never be loved. I’m already showing the symptoms. I’m 25 and have no previous relationships. Everyone I ever fancied DID NOT fancy me [but they thought me ‘cute’. I hate that four-letter-word]. The ones that perhaps did fancy me I COULD NOT bring myself to fancy. I’m afraid nobody is gonna love me enough to want to marry me. I don’t know why all these insecurities are surging through me right now but they are: just like a lightning bolt. I suddenly realize there is a possibility I’m gonna be one of those creepy old spinster who takes tap classes and is a member of the Royal Knitting Club with 6 cats in the house and a cupboard filled with quilts that I made myself during my spare time. My life will be consumed by Chinese and Korean soap operas and Chicken Tikka Masala TV dinners. Every weekend I hunt down sales and cut out grocery coupons. How is it that noone I like fancies me?

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

"looking for my #1 single..."


I’ve been following Lisa Loeb’s reality series: Number One Single lately. It focuses mainly on her singularity and pursuit of love. In the show she immersed herself into the dating scene, dipping her pen into everything from blind dates to subway interaction.

I find it fascinating because at this particular moment, I CAN absolutely relate to her. She reminds me of me. The things she wear and her big love for everything Sanrio. I laughed before I realized that that could be me. That’s me in my mid-thirties with no man in my life and a truckload of Hello Kitty paraphernalia. I’ve begun to explore the dating frontier and although the journey so far has been unfruitful, but at the very least, I’m still a lil’ *crossed fingers + toes* hopeful (maybe?).

She’s fortunate she’s cute so despite the aging process, she can still manage to pull off empire waists dresses and Chococat messenger bags. Me likes!! Also her hippy lifestyle has influenced her skin to tread extra slowly towards the haggard department. It really helps to be a celebrity. You get to make friends with other celebrities. Good friends with artsy-fartsies like Ethan Hawke and Cynthia Rowley. Man, that’s a great life. Some people may not be too familiar with Duncan Sheik apart from ‘Barely Breathing’ but she used to date him!! Nice. He’s hot too. And his latest album 'Daylight' is brilliant.

I would like to go watch her play. She put on some shows in Sanrio stores in the States which I thought was fantastic venues for a live play-off, especially her sorta music: light and angry. Me likes!!

Anyway this time she was out with a few close friends on a man-hunt. I mean she’s always on a man-hunt but this time it was with a good male-friend and a good girlfriend. They were scouting places likely for a girl to score a date with a boy. Funny enough, as Lisa and her guyfriend compared post-mortem notes on their dates, Lisa seemed a lil’ peeved that he had a nicer time than she did. And when they were at that small function in the writer Sue Shapiro’s flat, he seemed peeved that she was going out on a limb to make social with men to score as dates. It was so weird. The way Lisa and him wore their glasses, dressed and all that… they seemed so cute together. They were cute. I mean this f*cker smoked a cheetos for crying out loud!! Noone can get any cuter than that!! And their friendly flirting was like soooo I dunno… like how it is with Mr Orange and me. I immediately felt that same strange sick in my stomach sensation. Then suddenly as they were playing around, he slips his hand around her waist and BHAM he smacked his lips into her. And of course despite initial shock, she kissed back. Her friends gaped and gasped. I gaped and gasped. I screamed!! They probably screamed in the insides. OMG. He kissed her!! They kissed!! Twice. And while they were walking home, he shoved her towards the wall and snogged her again. I LIKE. I LIKE I LIKE I LIKE. Miss KhaiKhai went, “You know, people always search far far away hen the best thing is just right there in front of you.” I quickly made an excuse to go home. Cried when I reached my door. I just made a half-decision to choose friendship over relationship and now this happens. I’m back to being all perplexed and stuff.

Monday, April 17, 2006

crank it up

Today I am in absolute no mood to 'jaga'. Just hope the time ticks by quickly and the next thing I know, it's Monday. Actually I'm loathing tomorrow even more: my mini group's turn to do Bed-Side Teaching (BST) on Ectopic Pregnancy and I haven't read up on it yet. Better do some reading later. The next crappy sh*t is that I 'jaga' yet AGAIN on Monday's shift. Everyone thinks it's crazy and they're right, it's insane. Ah Ron had to leave for the satellite hospital in Astana Anyar so he HAD to get someone to replace his shift. Me, being the Good Samaritan that I am, agreed to do so. Unbeknown to me, I was scheduled for my own 'jaga' slot the very next day. So it's gonna be 48 hours of non-stop 'jaga'. Bloody crap. Also I'm freaking knackered-lah with it being the 2nd day my period. I'm cranky. Cranky cranky cranky.

Yesterday I woke up late. Got my period. Felt really frustrated. Must be the PMS kicking in. Funny, I had heavy spotting 2 weeks ago. I thought THAT was my period. My menstrual cycle is cuckoo. Crap. It was just beginning to form a good pattern. So, moody me didn't feel like talking but the whole world wanted to talk to me. Miss RusRus feels I have a dozen masks I put on. She may be true. Frankly, there are times I don't know who's the real me.

A chick, Pub-girl, came into the Gynecology Clinic. She was a petite lil' 17-year old with cheaply dyed hair [I should, I once murdered my locks that way] and thick eye-liner on. Instantaneously, based on appearance, I felt she would be what the Indons categorize as 'cewek gaul'. Initially she came in with chief complaints with pain in the lower abdominal. Pub-girl was referred over by the Internal Medicine department 'cos her Ultrasonography (USG) results came in negative for cysts in her uterus. Instead she was suspected of suffering from pelvic inflammatory disease (PID). She's a singer in a pub. *sigh* You know how the rest goes... In her medical record, she stated her marital status as 'single' but during physical examination, Dr Am found her hymen to not only be torn but very, very umm... how should I put this lightly: very, very used-lah OK [I didn't know how to tell, pictures in the books look different but he pointed out afew anatomical landmarks so now I can imagine]. It was only then that she admitted she wasn't a virgin and begged us to not tell her mother who was waiting outside. Well Dr Amran didn't give her face-lah (Miss MasMas says it's the 'sok garang' style most residents use so these young ignorant chicks would think twice before jumping into the sack again) 'cos during the physical examination, he kept badgering her for the boy's occupation and asking her when the bugger intends to marry her. OMG I could tell it was probably the most uncomfortable position she would ever have to live through during that 5 minutes with us. Already she was half-naked bottoms down on an uncomfy bed that has weird contraptions to hold her legs apart, the doctor is lecturing her while his finger is in her ass [rectal tussiae 'cos it's unethical to do a full speculum examination on an unmarried female according to Indon laws] with a pair of strangers (me included) staring up her *ahem*. I dunno... I thought we were taught not to judge but maybe this is relatively personal to each individual. Having lived in the UK and with almost all my friends having had sex, I didn't think it unusual. Maybe it's different here. Again I dunno-lah. All I know is that I had a duty to inform her to puh-leasee wear a condom everytime she intends to copulate. She doesn't. She almost did, once. It should be the other way around as in she almost did not use a condom but she did. Mannn...

I don't know why I can never really look like this outside picture world. This is where it sucks to be photogenic: you look like turd in real life

Last night, however, was nice. I brought afew close (Malaysian) girlfriends: Miss KosKos, Miss IyanIyan, Miss JoeJoe, Miss KhaiKhai and Miss RemRem for a mini-party. I've seen this place: Café Arar as I zoomed pass it on the angkot from Bober's Café [I go there for my sheesha fix]. It looked really pleasant from the outside. The heavy rain miraculously stopped by 6.30 pm so we were able to get there by angkot [I thought it was a nice gesture of the weather to be so kind... Thanks G*d or whoever]. The service was absolutely lovely and I felt like such a princess that night. They gave me a 20% discount 'cos we weren't locals anddd I'm thinking 'cos they find me endearing. Having my funny ha-ha face isn't too bad at all *grins* I got a free drink 'cos it was my birthday celebration. Also the manager told me if I sang a song [I did Alicia Keys' If I Ain't Got You and sucked at it], I'd get an additional discount. Man, you cannot imagine how ecstatic I was. It was a total of 30% discount and a delicious free drink. Me happy!!


The ceiling deco. Sweet.

L-R: Miss KosKos, Miss RemRem, birthday girl, Miss IyanIyan, Miss JoeJoe, Miss KhaiKhai (apart from Miss IyanIyan, we all sure need to lose some pounds)




There was supposed to be PINK theme going on but since I had no pink on, the best way to add colour is to ACCESSORIZE ;)

P.S: Bloody ward. F*cking A LOT of mosquitoes!! Cannot sleep!! #$%&*@$&*@#%!!!!!

Sunday, April 16, 2006

post-mortem


‘The Lovely Bones is a luminous and astonishing novel about life and death, forgiveness and vengeance, memory and forgetting. It is, above all, a novel which finds light in the darkest of places, and shows how even when that light seems to be utterly extinguished, it is still there, waiting to be rekindled.’ (excerpt from cover of The Lovely Bones)

Miss ChewChew probably got this book for me before I told her I turned into a happy camper. From the description of the paperback above I can tell she was probably trying to help me cope through a dark phase in my life through literature. I haven’t finished the book. It’s put on ‘pause’ for now. It’s too solemn for me. I had only managed to creep past page 15 before I became too sick in my stomach to pursue further. Maybe I’ll resume this book during the holidays or something.


Thing I love ‘bout my Malaysian mates here in Indon is that I get to choose my own gift which really helps since I’m such a fussy pot and can be absolutely impossible to get gifts for (Miss Mumu mentioned this). I’m really cool with budgets. I don’t even mind if it’s just RM20 that a person wishes to spend on me. I’m thinking let that RM20 be worth the while. So anyways,Miss KosKos gave me a budget of 300,000rp (±RM150). Luckily for me, the Puma Mahanuala yoga bag was 50% off and so was the Rusty jumper (I SO LOVE THE DEVIL EARS!!). I got 2 great sh*t for the price of 1 *grins*


Miss MuMu was lost for words when she asked me if I liked stuff toys prior before handing her gift to me. Poor soul. I told her if there’s one thing I least enjoy receiving, it’d be a teddy bear. Perhaps I should have just kept my mouth shut but the damage had been done. It’s cute I suppose but… (so not me?)


People I work with chipped in for this. It fits.

I really like this gift. She shouldn’t have but she did. I had left my orange Parker pen back home in Malaysia which put me in such a stitch here ‘cos I hate having to go around without a quality pen to write on (with all the patient history taking / reports / notes-taking / paper work). I don’t remember whining THAT much to Miss RusRus ‘bout the pen problem but she really must be pretty sharp. I really needed this and I don’t even mind that it’s not pink. Purple Parker pen.


The safest thing someone can give an Aries chick is a voucher. Miss JoeJoe did good.

My parents RULE!! The ultimate gift for their FAT daughter. They really really know me. Love them to bits :) Now let’s just hope it works…

Saturday, April 15, 2006

my MAKE BELIEVE birthday

It starts off with a late wake-up at approximately 9 am. I let myself slowly seep into the lavender soak before getting ready to go OUT. In my make-believe birthday, my hair’s the perfect get-outta-bed-Kate-moss-cum-Sienna-Miller look. I slip into this gorgeous Nina Ricci satin-trim dress


… and fasten on Daslu’s peach-coloured resin clover necklace.


I grab my Chloe Paddington bag before jumping…


… into a Lulu Guinness print cab to see an Andy Warhol exhibition in an independent art gallery somewhere. I mingle mingle with artsy-fartsies and ooh-aah over my favourite pop-artist’s latest work as I sip Rose Moet and nibble on lobster kebab. It’s time for luncheon with some friends so I totter over to a cute little vogue café where they serve their ala cartes on Cynthia Rowley plates...


... with Mike Schneider cutlery.

After lunch, I meet up with my photographer friend Paolo Roversi where he takes a HOT portrait of me looking like this:

There’s just something in his lighting and the way he allows the colour to depict virtue and refined strength. He makes her eyes look like it’s beckoning you to come closer. Nice. I like I like!! I quickly then rush to a Marc Jacob’s spring/summer runway show where I am seated in the second row alongside Rachel Bilson and Nicole Richie. We make small talk and I get invited to hang out with them next week (glee!!). I peer into the goodie bag and gasp silently: it’s a beautiful MJ poppy cuff.


Later that night, I put on my Mikimoto Milano-Starfish necklace ...


...and Crislu Simply Divine ring for some serious bling-bling effect.

I pack my Nokia 7380...

... into my Juicy clutch in gold ...

before getting picked up in my Sitting Pretty frock...

+ Riva twisted mesh Jimmy Choos slingbacks (like, hello, the female legs' best friend)
to the city’s most famous club. My name is on the VIP list and we skip crowds into the lounge. I party hard and get absolutely pissed out at the end of the night. I stagger into my home where I sober up to start opening presents:
Hello Kitty VGA Digital Camera

'I'm a Gabrielle' T-shirt (Desperate Housewives)

Missoni fragrance
Miumiu quilted handbag
molton,Goldie Smudgable liquid eyeliner

Molton Brown Celestial Maracuja Bathing Nectar

Hollywould satin clutch
Squint armchair

Chanel chinese umbrella


Gap cotton flower-print luggage

Chloe oversized bow belt
And the grand finale...

Fendi B Bag!!
P.S., disclaimer: images taken from: E luxury, Net-a-porter, Gap, ABC, Vogue US April '06, Elle US April '06)
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