Friday, July 21, 2006

Mad cow disease....


came across this picture while browsing the google images...the cows are so cute, captured my eyes immediately when the picture appeared on the screen. hehe...

it seems like the cows are smiling. I think it's really wonderful, to know that even the cow can feel the joy. You know, even the cow can have happiness, then what is the excuse for us (as we always claim ourselves to be the highest, the most intelligent creature in the universe) not to enjoy our lives.

let's together have the MAD COW DISEASE (smile like the cow) today.....hehe...and smile always...

Thursday, July 20, 2006

My Lift Encounter

Lifts in College Square are some of the most high-tech machines you would ever find. They take you up to the eighth floor in well under twenty seconds, and give you near-zero-G-force experience when it reaches its destination. If you take them daily just like me, you would agree with me that they beat the Superman Escape hands down any time.

Actually I should say, lifts in College Square are the most high-tech machines when they are working - that is, when their doors close successfully and when they don't take you to the unknown, dark territory of lower ground. There are zillions of times when the lift doors just refuse to close for eternity, or when they take you down to the not-supposed-to-be-reachable lower ground level when you actually pressed ground floor. And you won't tell me you are thinking of complaining the situation to the reception - they take three weeks to repair the smallest thing, and the walls of our apartments are made of plywood.

Of course one would naturally think that the second type of malfunction (the dark lower ground) is the more annoying or terrorizing experience of the two cases. Before today, I thought so too. I remember Boon Phiaw once claimed that College Square residents who have never visited the infamous dungeon were to be disqualified as a CS resident, or at the very least, be looked at with utmost disbelief. I was qualified about one week ago, but it was neither very interesting or what I wanted to talk about today. I want to talk about the lift doors which won't budge for eternity.

Earlier today, I was coming back from a table tennis session, together with Boon Phiaw and Yong Chin. We stay in the same block in College Square, and we have to take a lift up to where we live (Yong Chin and I on the ninth floor, Boon Phiaw on the first). When we entered the lift, there was already a young lady in the lift who was kind enough to wait for us instead of going up by herself. So we entered the lift, and we pressed one and eight respectively. I caught a glimpse of the floor buttons, and there was already 1, 2 and 8. Apparently the girl was heading towards the second floor, and with that thought I leaned myself against the lift wall for some well-deserved relaxation.

And the lift doors wouldn't close. As usual. It's been like that since three days ago, so we knew very well that we only have to wait for a while for it to close eventually.

But the lady wasn't as patient as us. Guess what she did?

She pressed the "close door" button ten million times, like what everyone would do in the same situation. Butu the lift doors still wouldn't close.

She pressed "3".

What?! Does she think pressing 3 will help the lift close? The lift did close 5 seconds after that, but I was sure it has got nothing to do with the button 3. And now you are going to let us wait for one extra lift opening-closing sequence!

Alright, Yong Chin and I are forgiving people, we put it aside and continued to stand there saying nothing. After all, I heard her snicker to herself sheepishly, which I presumed to be a non-verbal apologetic manner. I wasn't expecting her to say sorry after all. 不知者无罪 marr...

Now the lift zoomed to Boon Phiaw's first floor, and Boon Phiaw left for his apartment gleefully. And the lift wouldn't close again. But by now, everyone should have known that all you have to do is to wait for a while and the doors will close in a moment. But guess what the lady did?

She pressed "4"!!!

If your eyes are bulging now, just imagine Yong Chin's and my eyes when we were there. Yes, among all the alternatives in the world, she chose to press 4! ARRGhhhhh!! After the previous episode as recent as 10 seconds ago, the decision made by her 100 billion neurons was to press 4 and let us suffer another waiting!!

^#Q@&*^^(*&@#($^^

*(**^@#($*&4#@(^^

We weren't cursing with our mouths, but the previous two paragraphs were definitely the dialogue in our mind when we witnessed the world's funniest lift video. We moved on and we did suffer some waiting after the lady fleed on the second floor.

At the end of the day, I could only think of the most apt quote from Albert Einstein:
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.

Albert Einstein
End of story.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Hello...

Hey, everyone. Pei See here. Hehe...How's everyone?... :)
By the way, I have a blog at blogspot as well, so just drop by when you guys are free la.

http://sleepingbeauty85.blogspot.com

Welcome Pei See!

Hi Pei See, welcome! :D

Haha, to Shu Chiet and Yee Joo, post something here larr.. :P If not I everyday talk to myself very sien one worr.. :(

Friday, June 30, 2006

My Holidays

I am currently having winter holidays.. it was from 13 Jun until 17 July, and yeah, now I am halfway through the holidays already... :(

I will be going to Brisbane next week for a one-week tour. I hope that I will enjoy my time there! :D

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Welcome Yee Joo and Shu Chiet

Yeah, Shu Chiet and Yee Joo have already joined this blog, welcome welcome!!

I hope that we all can start posting stuff here.. :)

Sunday, June 25, 2006

A Touching Article

This is one of my old posts in my blog. A very touching article, I would recommend it to everyone.

It's just another reading assignment we had to do for our HP, but I was so thoroughly moved. Here I wish to share it with the rest of you the article that made tears well up in my eyes...

Learning to become a doctor

A third-year medical student reflects on a life-changing emotional experience



Dreams and reality are often very different things. As a medical student I imagined myself one day taking on the role of a gallant knight, a protector and safekeeper of the sacred flame of life, creating miracles and wonderuflly healing the sick. I wanted to make a difference and save lives. A road accident during the summer holidays gave me a chance to live my dream - but it was very different from what I had imagined. This piece reflects on my experience, and on how a brush with real medicine has changed me as a third-year medical student at Monash University.

The smashed machine was the first sight I encountered. A once fast, shiny road-bike now lay on the ground, a metal carcass. I remember running towards it, scared. Next to it a body lay still.

I had seen dead bodies before; cadavers allow us to release anatomical knowledge with the strooke f a blade; they are the ultimate learning tools. But wat confronted me was no practical class - this was very real. I looked at the woman lying there. She was young, about my own age of 20, still with P-plates on her bike. It could have been one of my freinds lying there. She was dressed up, perhaps coming home from a club somewhere, with makeup and nail polish delicately applied - real human qualities that gave a glimpse into a life that, only minutes earlier, was full. Draped over the top of a young huma was viciously snapped; blood and vomitus overflowed from her throat onto her chest; her arm was destroyed. I knelt down beside her.

It was as if I was looking through her. I looked into her eyes but, quite simply, no one was there. Despite the horror of the scene, she looked almost peaceful. Was shse just unconscious? Could there be a flicker of life still inside her? Was this my chance to save a life, to make a difference? What happened next was bizzare. I became machine-like,visualising a giant first-aid flowchart in my mind's eye, and began to apply my mecical knowledge. Yet again the theory did not match the reality. My only previous attempt at resuscitation had been on a mannequin with a plastic torso and head. This woman had real lungs and a real heart. I turned her on her side and tried to unblock her airway; I had no gloves. Using a mouth-to-mouth protective device that I carry on my keyring, i tried to shield my hands as I attempted to scoop blood and vomitus out of her mouth. I then tried to give her air: "5 breaths in 10 seconds, and watch the chest rise", my training had taught me. But her chest did not rise. AT first I got angry and blamed it on the device I was using, but then I realised her entire airway was obstructed. I searched for a carotid and raidal pulse but found neither - the beat of life had stopped. I tried cardiopulmonary resuscitaton but she wasn't responding - it wasn't supposed to be like this. Yet I continued until I felt a gentle tap on my left shoulder. It was one of the ambulance officers - I had missed their dramatic arrival, hearing my own thoughts and deaf to everything else. Never before had my mind been so clear or sharp. My adrenalin level was so high that it took tactile stimulation to reawaken me to my surroundings - a feeling I still never forget.

Despite efforts by the ambulance officers, the girl was pronounced dead at the scene.

It was in the day that followed, spending time with my general practitioner, that I began to learn a little about what being a doctor really means. I came to him upset that someone had died, upset at how horrific it was, upset that I had failed, upset that I had done something that may have exposed me to to HIV, hepatitis B or hepatitis C infection, even upset that the damn thing was upsetting me! He sat and listened. Being able to speak to someone who had witnessed similar trauma was amazingly comforting. He told me that th ethree hardest thigns to cope with in medicine are death itself, the death of someone young, and the death of someone under your care. I had copped all three "right between the eyes", at a time when I hadn't the experience or the training to know how to respond or feel.

My GP had no magic pills or portions to rid me of the churning inside me. Nor did he need them - all I wanted was for him to understand what I was feeling. I was given an insight into what caring for someone really means. He reassured me that people don't expect doctors to be miracle workers - all a family really wants in this type of situation is for a doctor to "be there and to care". My GP suggested that I attend the funeral service if I felt comfortable doing so. He believed it would give me a sense of closure and that it would help me to be around others with similar feelings. I sat with him in his office after all his patients had gone home, looking through the newspapers for the funeral details.

I sat through the service and listened to the account of a life I knew nothing about. I looked around at the web of friends and family she had interwoven. I was now a part of that web - she had touched me too. At the conclusion I introduced myself to her father, and told him that his daughter did not die alone, that I was there caring for her. I told him that the lst few days had taught me more about caring for people, and about being a doctor, than I had learned in all my days at medical school. I told him that I was there for him and his family. With that, the tall, lanky man hugged me tightly, crying and thanking me for being there, for stopping and bothering to care. It was devastatingly sad, yet enormously relieving, and I was proud. He wanted to care fr me and to share his feelings with me, something I had not expected. The simple knowledge that their daughter did not die alone was comforting to the family. They knew that if there had been a chance for her, I was there to give her that chance.

I am starting to understand what being a doctor is about. To really care for someone connects people in such a wonderful way that it can even make death seem a little less scary. Sometimes just being there can make all the difference.

Ryan J Hodges
Third-year medical student
Monash University, Melbourne, VIC



Hodges, R. (2000). Learning to become a doctor, Medical Journal of Australia, 173: 158-159.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Welcome Home!

Hi, this is Chang Yang..

Welcome to a new blog which is our very own! :) You can write English here, Bahasa Malaysia, bahasa rojak, hokkien ua, kuang tong wa, nihonggo, 한국어, and not to forget, 华语!(eer, ah kok, of course you don't want to write in 한국어, nobody can understand except you lar..)

Eerm, if you are not familiar with what a blog is, please have a look at a few examples:
1. My blog
2. Swee Sing's blog
3. An example team blog, like what we are going to do..


Eerm.. while my blog and swee sing's blog are personal; in a team blog, we have a lot of authors (which are us, of course). In this blog, we can post interesting articles, tell others about our daily life, post pictures, or even videos!

I hope that in the future this blog is going to be a comfortable home for us.

p/s: I don't have email addresses for Soo Im, Peng Hoe, Su Mei, Sze Yinn and Vaidehi. If you have their email address, kindly let me know in the comment page. Thanks! :)