Clairvoyance

The problem with preparing for exams is that usually, you have a general idea of things. Not too little, not too much, but you're still there somewhere. Yet somehow, going through the same bland things over and over again all year, there comes a time when you're so satisfied with the little that you do know that the unknown doesn't frighten you any more. You become immune to its charms altogether. And that perhaps is the most disastrous thing that could happen. Because from that point onwards, there exists an opposing force that resists very much the addition of anything new and variable. An antagonist, if you like that shifts the dose response curve so far to the right that its pushed out of the picture altogether. Of course the blockade does maintain a certain amount of competitiveness, so you try to up your dose a bit. Like a train struggling uphill, huffing and puffing all the way. Only to find someone rushing towards you, frantically waving a red flag, forcing you to slam down on the brakes.

And then you say your prayers, clutch your rails and prepare to tumble down the ravine.

And this shall be the soundtrack to my flashback.

Designer scrubs, anyone?


My hands still smell faintly of Povidone-Iodine as I type this. Today was probably one of the few great days this year. I got to scrub in and assist on a small (minor) procedure! Nothing grandiose. This 70 year old Jannat Bibi had something like lichen planus (guessed wrongly about it being of fungal origin) in her mouth and we needed a biopsy. So I scrubbed in with the Doc, and the nurse gave me size six and a half gloves which proved to be too small but I pulled them on anyway. And we used local anaesthesia (xylocaine with epi). Doc asked me what the epi was for and I got two out of three right. Anyway, the surgery. He just cut a small circular area of the ulcer and then he stitched it up (with catgut sutures that dissolve by themselves, also they've been banned in England now) and bang, we were done in twenty minutes. There’s a ten hour case he’s going to be doing here in three weeks time, which I’ll hopefully get to observe too.

Yes, the maxillofacial surgeon from before was here again today. I was called upon to be his “shadow assistant” and spent most of the day in the outdoor. The cases? There was one with an open bite and mandibular prognathism that had been corrected by orthognathic surgery without pre op orthodontic treatment, so naturally it wasn’t doing very well. The open bite was still there, but the post op ortho had corrected most of the aesthetic and functional problems. Then there was a case of hemifacial microsomia. That guy, or kid really is going to have that ten hour surgery in which half his mandible’s going to be added to and then something to do with his ear too, cause hemifacial microsomia affects five things. Orbit, mandible, ear, nerves and soft tissue. OMENS, for short. Hang on to that. High yield point, that is! Also, they’re going to take some cartilage from his ribs and put it in his TMJ. Then there was this kid from Karachi who needed a functional brace. Blah, blah, blah. Some aphthous stomatitis. Some TMJ disorders. Some myofasical pain syndromes. But I’ve saved the best for the last.

So this guy who was a police officer brought in his sister, who had, guess what, a bullet stuck in her head! Apparently, she had not been fired upon, it was a ‘stray’ bullet, they claimed. Anyways, medicolegal had cleared it at Mayo, so we took a look. The bullet was intact, and it had entered from above, and hit the side of her head near the ear, (missing the brain, thankfully) and had prolly tunneled its way through from behind the zygomatic arch and come to rest somewhere between the lateral and medial pterygoid plates. We really needed a CT scan to get the exact location so it could be operated upon but they’d left that at home. Pah. The interesting thing about the bullet though, was that it was facing outwards. Had probably hit bone and turned, we thought.


Ze proof!

That’s about it. Discovered that the car was leaking gas on the way back and had to go get it fixed it from across the river.

At night on my pillow the syncopated stagger
Of the pulse in my ear. Russian roulette:
Every heartbeat a fresh throw of the dice . . 
Hypochondria walked, holding my arm
Like a nurse, her fingers over my pulse . . .
The sudden lapping at my throat of loose blood . . 

- Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters

Want more? Here.

The Microscope knows not of this nor the Telescope: they alter
The ratio of the Spectators Organs but leave Objects untouch'd
For every space larger than a red globule of man's blood
Is visionary, and it is created by the Hammer of Los:
And every space smaller than a Globule of Mans blood opens
Into eternity of which this vegetable earth is but a shadow.
The red Globule is the unwearied Sun by Los created
To measure Time and Space to mortal Men...

- William Blake

I read these two gems somewhere and I was saving them for a post like this but then winded up sending them to my friend Samuel who was in dire need of some poetic comfort at that time but Samuel wouldn’t have any of my gallantry and called me silly and told me to post them here too. So, there.

I got this new book on Personality theories from the library today. Lots of Freud in it, so far. Little Hans and the horses stuff, ya know. Which reminds me, we were in the changing room today before scrubbing up and doc says to me that its alright  if we all change in here because that’s the way we do it as long as you keep talking or listening because everybody’s wearing briefs anyway but the rule is to keep your eyes up. Hah. Also, interesting anecdote about a friend of his from the northern areas who was invited to the same ritual but turned out he wasn’t wearing briefs but that didn’t stop him from er, yep. You guessed it. Bummer. He prolly thought it was a modern thing.

p.s. Zoey said I was breaching doctor-patient confidentiality by disclosing her (Jannat Bibi’s) age and name. Needless to say, I sectumsemprified her. Which reminds me of the time I asked Ghole about his response should a patient fancy him and try to put the moves on him. His reply? “Forget the ethics… Let’s go out sometime!” Ironic, since the only lecture we got on behavioral sciences all year was delivered by him.

p.s.s. In case anybody’s wondering, my exams which were due this month, got postponed because of the dengue hype in Lahore and all, and now 12th November is the new date. Haven’t been studying et all since the delay. Today was a big jolt back to reality, so its going to be all Robbins, Katzung and Phillips from now on. Yes, my girlfriends adore me. Quite a love-hate relationship, we have.

You would always win, always win.


Kid is looking at what I’m typing. But he’s also under fire right now from dad and Moony so he’s not a threat to anything I might be currently doing. Mum’s on the phone, oops not anymore now. Quick glances at someone to share a secret are the best. I hardly ever sleep when I’m home. People talk a lot. Cookie’s in Sargodha these days. She transferred her course from Islamabad so she could be nearer to home. 13th is the date of her entry test. J.Jay’s making brownies in the kitchen.

Life seems to have picked up pace all of a sudden, ya know?

Just had a bit of dinner. I have an infection in the danger area of my face. Dad’s on the phone now, calling people up, telling them about Saturday. See how people function? Most of the while they just lounge about, killing time, trying to be happy and stuff. Productivity goes up in smoke. I have to go make packets now.

I like this new silver grill on the heater. Kid must have re painted it.

Do you think if I keep on rambling like this, just a few lines at a time, I'll be able to write something even slightly readable? Just sneezed and my right lower canine that feels a bit too pointy these days, collided with something in the upper arch. Pain. I have black bands on the braces this time. Denny says he wants to try an orthodontic implant on me. Hmmph.

Some final words before the night falls through.

Just made lists with dad of all the things that need to be done In the next two days. I like this power that comes from mixing black and red. Been up since three in the morning. Today was the pharmacology send up. In other news, I’ve just  discovered the Age of Empires and this shall serve wonderfully as a pre-prof distraction. Let’s see how much longer I can stay awake now.

Song of the year: Adele – Set fire to the rain 

Let's rap, Lepers!

Here's what we won't do.
We won't talk about how I nearly drowned last Friday Night.
(and no Katy Perry in braces had nothing to do with it, honest)
We won't talk about how I spent our Indepence day doing my laundry.
And we certainly won't talk about Amir Liaqat.

Presenting now, the reason why MRS is all sorts of awesome, the Rap Zone of Dapsone!

Where's your ears?
There on the floor.
Where's your hand?
I left it on the door.
Come on Doc, look and see,
these rappin' clowns got leprosy!

Hey, you clown!
You left your nose in the car,
Hey, you clown!
You left your toes in a bar,
Call the doc, to the Rap Zone,
Your first line drug remains dapsone.
 
And if you dance to this stupid rappin',
watch your feet as they start a stampin',
There's only one thing to help your dancin',
Time to reach for the drug, rifampin.
Their peelin' clown faces look really lean.
They're healing faster than can be seen,
As long as they stay close to clofazimine!

Now every time you say Leprosy, I get clowns tap dancing in my brain. -____-
I want more rap! This was amazing! :)

p.s. Can somebody please lend me their Pathology practical notebook? Please? Pretty please with sucre on top? :) I'll teach you a cool new spell!  
Armamentarium! 
Oops.
Great. Now I feel hungry. :|

Olds from Home

So, the amusement I’d planned out instead of going trippin’ with the class took a U-turn and ended up with me going home, and feasting on chocolate all day long. :) Plus, I now have in my possession, a piece of the Berlin wall, which I’ll use to bang my head against when things become too cementy, but not before I write with this cool new pen someone gave me as a present! (and a new book too.)

Anyway, apart from Cookie who’s stuck safe somewhere up north, Kid shall now also be featured on my spaghetti splattered wall from time to time. His latest antics include taking exactly 208 pictures in less than two hours, and silencing a bunch of wizened old geezers with a single comment that we laughed over so much that our teeth fell out.

Speaking of teeth, we dentists love chocolate. Especially the sticky, crunchy, butterscotchy, caramel kind. We figure the more you eat, the quicker you die so there’ll be less annoying people in the world. Thought I was going to say something else, didn’t ya? :)


That’s Kid playing on his playstation. We found an old projector and hooked it up and it worked great! Obviously, the car isn’t my choice. Pah.

I don’t feel twenty. And I don’t look twenty, don’t sound like I’m twenty and I certainly don’t think act like I’m twenty. I’m just the right amount of stupid a twenty year old should be!

Also, J.Jay’s painting.


And this is random guy near my college.


I need more chocolate!!!

Rightey tightey, Lefty loosy

Let's see. I haven't even dared to open the physical and chemical properties section of the book that screws with your brain, Phillips. Enough nostalgia there to put even Gaga to shame.  Started polymers today but lost interest because of the beautiful weather, and other, err distractions. Cements are 49 pages of my very own personal nightmare. And I read dental adhesives and denture base resins a month back, so they're probably rotting in the seventh circle of hell right now and no amount of blood/love shall resurrect them from their powdery tombs. Is that all? Yes. Tomorrow should be fun!

Oh, and Cookie from up there in BK keeps saying that it feels like she's living in Forks, so she's keeping an eye open for Edward. Pffft. Girls.

Another day gone to waste which I was supposed to spend studying. Since everybody's talking about Dental Materials, I won't talk about it. Nearly slept in pharmocology today, thanks to Professor Binns, whose name I couldn't remember for the life of me and Ghole couldn't hear when I asked him. Amused myself by tapping out morse code on the desk.

There's talk about a college trip on Monday. I won't be going, as usual. I have better ways to amuse myself. :)

Must rush now if I am to be served lunch on time. Oh and, word of advice. Critter kills your brain cells. It's like a Rickettsia that'll deplete all your brain's ATP. And then you'll get rocky mountain spotted fever and go barmy in the woods and hang yourself from a tree. Just saying.

Rehab

Cookie: Med lizzie in the loo. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah while i was in it too. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. What on earth am i to do?
Me: That actually rhymes pretty well! :) Ask her for an interview.
Cookie: Yeah i know i made it up. Like sissy's."There s a huge lizard in my room and a baby one too. What do i do?" only mine is better B-)
Me:
Fascinating! *Snape-ish face*
Cookie: I pretty sure its a he. Coz lizzie is short for lacerta :-D
Me: What in the name of handsome-he-lizards is a  lacerta?!
Cookie: Its a constellation. Lacerta. Stands for lizard. Ever open an encyclopedia?
Me: Killed a lizard with one once. -_-
Cookie: You killed a lizard with a constellation? *sarcasm*
Me: No, the constellation is the giant, fiery lizard I killed and then placed in the Heavens as my trophy! :p
Cookie: Boy you are k-raaaazy!
Me: I know! How cool is that! :)
Cookie: Thats not cool its spookey!!!
Me: Oh, run along now and study while I post this to my blog. :) :p
Cookie: Oh, yeah! Im soooo cool! Blog cool! Wheeeeee!!!

Disclaimer: The above is the result of two nefariously prodigious minds being coerced into intellectual booby traps. Go figure.

Powerless

Violent thoughts are all that arise in my head these days. The least violent of them perhaps would be to run away. I have it all planned out. Got some saved up cash, with which I'll battle my way across India with my best friend/dog named Kim. Then a pirate friend of mine will be sending his ship to the Bay of Bengal near Chittagong and then we'll sail the seas and discover new lands, (no you're not allowed to rain on my parade) and do it the Philleas Fogg way in 80 days. Or 79 really, if we're going east.

And after that I have no freakin idea what we'll do. Prolly drink out our frustration that we had to burn the ship.


Stolen Summer

Amazing really, how I went from this:



To this:



And I have Cookie to thank (murder) for this.

In other news, I know I'm letting the blog down but it doesn't really seem to matter anymore. The measly one month that are the holidays is nearly up. College will be like college usually is. No vampires running around pretending to be human or such. O no. And whats more, my dormitory has sealed itself against me for this month. As has my brain, after reading about tumour suppressor genes and other batshit about barmy cancers. Oh and I saw this program on Neurofibromatosis on Discovery right after I'd studied that a bit and it was scaryyy. Oh and my laptop played a trick on me today by suddenly flipping the screen upside down. And like how I want my own bachelor pad. Oh, and Vampire Diaries isn't half bad. Plus I don’t really think I like this year so far. Its been very undocumented, don’t you think? And then things happened that shouldn’t have happened but they were amazing while they lasted and then as they say, reality caught up. What do you say? I hear somebody’s radio playing right now since the power’s out. Oh and I have new furniture in my room! And an oval mirror. I like my oval mirror. Wish my college was here in Rabwah. Oh and kid’s finally moved on from Enid Blyton but he and I are having a little tiff going on so let’s ignore him. I haven’t read annyyything in a while. Except Katzung of course, who’s my wife. My friend married us. And there's mini-K who we call Kitten and then there’s the cute girl next door, Robbin. They’ve been real friends this year. Ignoring the fact they tried to kill me in my sleep. Well, that’s it, I think. Wanted to throw in a moon joke too for posterity’s sake but J.Jay’d kill me.

Wooh. iBabble. King of Babble, I be!

Count Grouchyness, signing off.

Oh, Snap!


Me: Miserable.
ZJ: What?
Me: Me. Miserable. Bored. Must annoy somebody! Difficult is uber sad.
ZJ: Yup. Eminem is about sad music. Write ten bad things about my today's presentation. #alwayshaveworked
Me: I'd rather write ten good things about yellow. :P
ZJ: That'd be okay too... :-)
Me: Seriously though. I think I might need some selective serotonin reuptake inhibitiors.
ZJ: Potatoes? =\
Me: No, kumquats. :p Antidepressents, Newton!
ZJ: You need a vacation... Hey, hey, look, just there...

I think I need a new theme. Yup.

p.s. Future posts on this abandoned island shall be short and pointless like this too. Like when I snorted into my bloody Mary when he said potatoes. Okay? Capisce?
p.p.s. Peas for the people who missed my presence! And for Alec Lindsay, who misses the sound of me banging into walls. I"M BACK BI#^T%CH%$^^#^*Z!!
Well, maybe.


The "lag" phase

Chaos. Too many stray thoughts in your head. Like fireworks on Guy Fawkes night. Like beads falling from a string and rushing to hide themselves before you get a chance to thread them back together. The doubt of actions that never were actions. The self assurance of a conscience that never lived to see the day. The happiness of a moment rearing its nostalgic head from that red green end of the fire breathing dragon, sickened by the blood dripping from its fangs. Steps. Staircases. The dizziness on looking down from that great height where only the vultures dare fly. Knives, missing your heart by inches, but leaving you chained to the wood behind by the intricacy of mere cotton. Poison, from the lips of a Bella donna, shining brightly in the lamp light with all its alluring shades, tempting like a lustrous red apple. Smoke. Sweet, noxious smoke, making you fling back your head in the wake of its frenzy. Wires. Entangling themselves around you like ravishing devil's snare. The very bane of human existence. Pale faces, hiding emotions of a Tsunami. Slender hands. Fingers reaching for your face, nails poised to strike, scourge, and scratch cocaine bugs out of your eyes. Where does the road end? Unopened jewels, breathing quietly in watery graves, wrapped in their silken musings, never to be worn. A drop of blood for a pearly tear. Revenge? Much too rash for a butterfly like her. Secret letters! Embedded in green leafed cacophony of estranged garlands. The blabbering discord of strange languages. Areas smaller than the heart of a Rickettsia, the gloomy walls of your self exiled prison.

Hate on Peas

Okay, this is officially weird. 
Seems the less I write, the more followers I get. Not bad, eh?
This post shall be in single lines because I'm so single. :) 
Bonga Reason but whatever. =/\
Very 'Waila' today. Pathology Department decided to let us spend V-Day in peace. 
The Professors seem much too busy with their wifeys and hubbys to save lives.
Or analyze pea-smelling urine or stool samples with undigested peas in it, but do I give a pea? Nope.



In other news, I somehow seem to have won a blog award! 
Which should be nigh impossible because I haven't been blogging. Et al.
Thanks to Sana Castellano here, I now have the dilemma of forcing a post out of my unwilling mind, when my brain seems to have left me for a Pea.

7 Random facts about me:

I hate peas.
I don't hate all peas. I like the fried kind a friend sends from Japan.
(Both the above are true. My friends call me Pea Hater.)
I tried to eat a pea once. It ran off.
Some peas are absolutely alike. Like peas in a pod. Only less peasy, ya know?
I once snorted a pea up my nose. My nose died that day. True story.
You know that tiny hole in the pea? 
Hold it up to your ear and you'll hear the sound of...Yeah. You guessed it.
Last but not least, 
I am a Pea.
FEAR THE PEA!

Oh and these facts are supposed to work for this tag here too,
by the wonderful  Ms. Dawson
Tis called killing two birds with a Pea.

In other news, must pass on the award to seven mighty fine bloggers!
(Who are to undergo the same ordeal as me.)


The ApPEAsed

Cause she uses words like "ghoomofyes", "gnkarlengvarkengvkarns" 
and "sharafati" and others and seems to run on nuclear batteries. 
Plus I can't call her a stalker so I won't call her that.
Ameen.

Let's just leave this a bit blank. 
I want to know what she'll do with it.

He's versatile alright.
And he has this Daily Blog which I'm not allowed to read, 
even when I've been pestering him for an invite the past whole year. 

Because she's sending me a pizza prize. True Story.

Because she's my sister and she'd kill me if I didn't tag her. 
Pah.

Who I don't really know but she seems like a good pea.
Also, good things happen when you follow my blog. Heh.

And the last one to anyone out there who wants this award, cause you're all Awesome. 
Like fried Peas.
Well, not really, but I'm out of peas.

Don't you just hate Peas? :/

Just Around The River Bend





I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
   Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
   Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars
   In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
   I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow
   To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
   But I go on for ever.

The Brook by Tennyson

Lost

You know like, when you're feeling that you could just write and write and whole paragraphs and blocks of text just whiz past and time itself seems to stand still as you keep on plodding away at that keyboard, writing out our thoughts as and when you get them and you start feeling lighter with every escaping word that someone would get to read someday and hopefully understand and not judge you for it or hate you or just plain ignore you and then you think that maybe its all just inside your head and the stuff dreams are made of, and then you suddenly think of cotton candy because you're reminded of how soft and bittersweet it is at the same moment, and like clouds that thunder away and you just want to stand in the rain and think about things and how and what it all means and what you're meant to do and how you're ever going to do it and if it even matters at all and how it takes ages and ages to build something up from scratch and how in a moment of fury you can destroy it faster than blinking and how we're all just the same really and no one deserves to not be happy and then you feel sorry for having that much regret pent up inside you and you try to smile and feel blessed and thank Allah for all that he's given you, every little thing that matters and even those that we hardly ever get to know and wouldn't even have thought to ask for, just go on working and being themselves until suddenly there's that one little bugger who decides to kick up a fuss and then you meet them and get to know all about them, and all the while planning how you're going to take them out and send them back to being the non-existential, little flecks of protein they were before they hogged up your bloodstream with the most lethal dose of confused thoughts that keep nagging at you all day long, threatening to make you lose your calm and wanting to just break down and cry and then amidst all that confusion and darkness there's a sudden call for hope and you've heard that call before but you never really understood it, but now you want to yield to its soft beckoning but there's still something holding you back that doesn't really want you to be happy and tells you that its all just a fancy illusion that'll break the moment you step in and leave you hurtling down the sky, forcing upward your heart to the back of your throat as you try to clutch at the branches of those tall oaks that flash past whose wide trunks you used to look up to, wondering about all that was up there, but you're left with nothing more than torn leaves in your hands and you think about your life till then and what it means and if it even meant anything at all and what you would do if you were able to do what you wanted to do and not just wander about like some lost sheep till you find something that really points you to a worthier direction, different from any other path in the jungle before and then you think about battling tigers and encountering sphinxes and all sorts of hidden treasures in the forest but somehow you're not afraid now and you're actually eager to get going because you see these people on the far edge and they look happy and they've got this faint, amused smile on their faces, as if they know exactly the battle that's going on in your head and they even nod at you once or twice and that gives you the courage you needed to get over that final break in the bridge, that missing step from the staircase that you know will lead you wherever you want to go, and then suddenly its not about winning at all and you think about each level as you take it, one step at a time, and then fleetingly, you look around and there are others, and they're all on the same path and then you realize that it's not your path but the only path and that the edge of the forest is the only edge and you want to shout it out to all the others and jump for joy that you've found what it meant before all was lost and you're finally living in the moment.

But I don't think I've found it.