I've got a faint idea so far what's the upcoming surgical OSCE is going to be about. I'm kinda confident about the abodminal and vascular examination parts, not so much the rest. Not so much for the Path test as well coming up two days after it. Acck. Hopefully they'll put out more information soon.

Was asked to put in a line into Mr K today by my hs but after looking up and down his left forearm and seeing two little puncture holes, and feeling here and there, and not finding any real veins that I can confidently (or even semi-confidently) access, I gave up and gave the task back to the hs. He felt here and there and then kinda felt one and jabbed it in and got it. Sigh. I'll give myself a fair chance next time, more credit and so on, and shall jab it even if I'm not terribly confident. I need and want practice desperately. I really really want to do a sigmoidoscopy too!!!

Borrowed Kumar and Clark today from the library and took ages to lug that darn heavy bulky thing home. Along with my music folder which makes things even harder. As I checked it out, I thought to myself would my parcel arrive today? And when I got back, right in front of my room door, was my parcel. Yay!! Goodies. And dang, why did I get that book out now that I've my own??!! Lol!

Did my last ED shift on Monday. Had this really nice icelandic registrar supervising. Lol. What supervising. I'm more like haunting that anything. Interviewed a lady who came in with an allergic reaction. No idea what it is though. Nothing that jumped out in the history at all. Also saw this lady of 65 who was attempting suicide by slicing her wrist horizontally. She obviously bled lots. Her hair was matted with her blood and so was the bed she was on. She was given 3 units of blood and lots of saline just to keep her going. The plastics surgeon came in and his registrar took off the bandages on her wrist. I must say she did a really really good job. It looked practically minced, mutilated, red, bloody all over, and I SWEAR something bone-looking could be seen from where I was, on the opposite side of the bed where the cut wrist was. Mr Plastics said can you move your fingers. Pathetic little wriggle on her index and middle fingers. Last two stayed flexed. And to my horror I saw a little small lump of ... unidentifiable tissue.... gave the tiny-est of wriggle on the cut surface of her wrist. Eeeaccck.... As soon as my own registrar walked out I quickly followed. The post-mortem session was bloody, but what does it matter when the body is already dead and unfeeling and cold? This is bloody, but she was alive, and I can't imagine how determined someone can be to be able to slice repeatedly to deliver that much damage to her wrist. Deep down I've admiration for her resolution, though I wish her resolution had been channelled into something else. That or cut it properly so that she wouldn't have to survive with a hand that would be practically half-useless from now on. Funniest thing was my registrar had to go into the room later again to consent her for the bloods that she already had. Do you agree to have the bloods that we transfused you with madame? No I don't. Get it out of me. I wonder what's the point even.

The old Chinese lady with the gastric cancer that I saw in Mr Utley's OP is back in again. I saw her in ED on Monday as well as I was about to start my shift. She's been put under the surgical team on call. I wonder if I should visit her?

So Mano-mano called up about her pay, and will tramp down (ahem, using bus no. 8x, not 11 of course hehe) to her workplace come Wednesday. Thank goodness for private health institutions is all that I can say that I have free time on Wednesdays. :P And hopefully get it all sorted out on that day. I honestly cannot remember at all when I actually started work. But according to T's diary, it's 8/3/08. So it shall be.

I've made dinner. I fried up some noodles with the Chinese sausage mum sent over. I wonder if it's my technique, or maybe it's just that I've never really gotten used to electric stoves, or maybe I'm just frying too much at once, but the noodles look a lot like something that might have popped out from the pseudowok of some bastardised American Chinese takeaway. Ugh. I feel somewhat disgusted looking at it and feeling sorry for my cooking skills. But at least it tastes good. Yes, I ran the taste test. Hot food freshly cooked is just too good to pass. Actually I think I know what's wrong. I overcooked my veges. My beans look limp and sad. Though I noticed that it seems to do that with just a little heat very quickly.

Looking through some onco stuff. Looking at the survival rates made me think of the guy I met during my session at the onco clinic who just found out then he had HCC with maybe slightly less than 2 years left to live, even though he had been tested couple of times here and there to check for it. Apparently the gastro guy never told him. It shocked him. It wasn't very obvious because on the surface he appeared very calm. But inside, partly hurt and emotional pain? He had a 15 year old son still and a wife. But maybe relief as well? Since he said he had guess something was up when they ran all sorts of tests on him. And he had been doing some research on the internet as well. And then I think of Mrs N who ovarian cancer mets. Cancer has never been so real to me until this year. And while I know people can survive and bounce back to where they were before. Just that it's scary and while listening to the oncologist explain things to the guy, I felt a twinge of sadness deep down inside. But then again, I walk out of the room and I forget. The little twinge gets pushed far away into the darkest corners of my cupboard up there and lie almost forgotten. I find myself wondering what do they actually feel knowing their diagnosis and prognosis? I feel like asking but never seem to have a chance to. And then again, knowing the prognosis, while it may be bad with very little time left, is it necessarily a bad thing? At least one can be half sure about something. At least one can make preparations to one's best, and therefore be able to die happy?

Taken at St Clair during our pilgrimage to Dunedin. Had to redo the shot goodness knows how many times just to get it right :O! Can you spot the two sexy tummy flashers? *giggle* I daren't considering how well fed I was down there. Omani fed us all sorts of yummy food cooked specially for us, and best of all was her kimchi which restaurant ones never seem to match up to. *sniffle*

Back up in Chch again. Met up with a few friends while down in Dunedin. And Chyi is coming back up to Chch and meeting her on Sunday. Along with RJ and XL who are coming along with her. While Chch is in some ways better than Dunedin (better housing for one, though more expensive doh!), I find myself wishing that I could have transplanted all my friends up here. Clinical years can be difficult to make really close friends unlike our two bookwormy years before, since everyone's doing their own 'thang'. Not that it really matters much in the end when I really think of it, since there's internet and what not now, and our schedule doesn't really allow as much free time as before. And all I want to do after coming back from the hospital is just go online, eat and laze. And maybe my cross-stitch while it's going.

And here's icky video my worm made me watch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpv9P1KOVMQ