Sometimes 

Sometimes, when you’re writing a song, a blog post or a simple one liner, it’s so mediocre that you can tell. 

Like one of our residents said, “crass”. 

With each word that you write, you know the story isn’t going anywhere but your intention to just write and post something makes you want to complete it, at the cost of making sense. 

My previous post, for example, was a work of art, in all the wrong ways. It had no plot, the humour wasn’t up to the mark and there was the mind-blowing factor lacking. 

I hated it. That being said, it did little to deter me from posting it. For that, I’ve been giving myself a reason. 

Reason being, sometimes, your brain works in unfathomable ways and your thoughts just spiral out of control. Each of those thoughts however, aren’t fully thought out and depending on them for a framework for your post would be a bad idea because although they might have an amazing head, they lack the perfect tail to end it or even a body for that matter. 

Your brain gets overwhelmed by multiple awesome ideas and before you can thoroughly process one, you’re racing towards another and sometimes, it’s difficult to pick a topic and once that’s done, there’s a writers block awaiting you not even three lines away from the beginning and that acts as fertile soil for meaningless and aimless work. 

The point is, it’s ok to write crap once in a while. It shows that your brain is just running a marathon of its own and that you’re too slow to keep up. 

Ps. I’d advice you against reading the last post. I can always delete the post but hey, I worked pretty hard to come up with that “potty plot” too.

A.W.

Narration with a twist 

We’ve all read our fair share of romance novels and watched enough movies to know how a passionate kiss starts. 

The guy, or for that matter, the girl holds the other person’s face in their hands and slowly advances to plant that much awaited kiss. 

Ever since I’ve entered medical school, my perspective has undergone significant changes. The way I look at things has acquired quite the eccentricity and I’m about to narrate to you, a romantic scene as pictured by a studious medical student. 

In a park full of strangers, there they stood, a few feet apart from each other. Daniel couldn’t help but stare at the left lateral side of her face. Her pinna was just the perfect size and her breasts had attained the adult size. 

She was restless. He could tell. Her hands were in constant alternation between flexion and extension. He could see her thyroid cartilage move with every bit of saliva that she swallowed. He smiled when he noticed she was tachypneic (rapid breathing). If he were close enough, he was sure he’d be able to figure out her heart rate as well. 

Vitals? Check. 

Her hairline was at the perfect level on her forehead and her eyes had a mischievous charm to them. As his eyes moved downwards, he noticed that her calf muscles were toned. He bet that she worked out. 

All in all, general examination? Check.

Her eyes kept trying to get a sneaky glance at Daniel, almost like she was having an episode of nystagmus. 

Daniel couldn’t take it any more. With all the determination he could muster, he stood up and with his long lower limbs, reached her in just about two steps. His hands, reached out to her face and his thumbs gently stroked her zygomatic region. If you think his face was beautiful, you should see his anatomical snuff box. 

His head tilted anterolaterally and both the recipient and donor labia collided into what was called a passionate kiss. 

With all that salivary contact, I’d hope neither of them has any caries, EBV or oral thrush. That would be rotten. That’s just scratching the surface of what all could happen with oral contact that is. 

I bet his genitalia got tumescent as well. With all the action near the facial region, I doubt the inguinal region would go without a reaction. 

Be careful with the hickeys Daniel. You might puncture some cervical artery or even give her some air embolism. Before you know it, you’ll be sacking at a corpse. Just saying. 

So, being fairly smart and all, I’ve managed to predict what will happen next. So for prophylaxis, I hope Daniel has his condoms ready. Unless, he’s willing to procreate. 

Also, female orgasms last longer and sadly, they’ll outlast you. Just in case you aim to please and conquer, I suggest you indulge in some foreplay. I have the whole of medical literature to back me up on this. 

While I’m at it, I might as well tell you about some STDs. In case you have any, please tell your loved one. Sharing and caring does not apply to this. Yes, I’m sure of that. 

I’ll probably be digressing from the topic but I never had a well thought out framework anyway. So, I’ve always wondered, being affiliated with health sciences, how does the whole act go? 

I’m pretty sure the mind wouldn’t stop thinking about the technicalities. 

“Oh hey, I’ve spotted the vestibule, hmm, which orifice do I put it in? If only I could locate the urethra. Hey can you please pee for me please? I can’t see anything.” 

Or is it just trial and error. 

Some wonders, will remain wonders until you’re the one in the act. 

If anyone wants to clarify some of my mind blowing doubts, feel free. I enjoy every bit of knowledge. 

-A.W.

End?

My world is a puzzle with all eccentric pieces.

Nothing is what it seems like. In other words, my life is nothing but a mocktail of all kinds of illusions. Never ceases to amaze me. 

You might want to know why I said Mocktails instead of cocktails. In answer to that, I haven’t really grown up yet. I’m the little girl still on a leash. 

Except, my leash is just a tad bit longer. I manage to get done, my fair share of mischief.

This is a story of something very common yet unspoken of.

A story where things weren’t meant to be taken too literally. A story where full stops didn’t mean anything. A story where it all began with a good night!

So, without further ado, let’s dive right in.

The phone lay on her bed beckoning for her attention. It didn’t even have to buzz, for her to be on edge. It was the anticipation that killed her. It was an internal turmoil, should she make the first move, should she be patient and wait? She’d have been happy if she had a clue. 

Agnus wasn’t one of those people who were known for their patience. In fact, she wasn’t known for anything at all. She liked to dwell in that little shell of hers. 

It was like her secret hideout. She liked to think that she was a mafia leader operating an entire life from her inaccessible place of solace.

You know what they say for a periscope right? ‘I can see you, but you can’t see me’

Her life lived up to every word of that sentence. 

Agnus was a whole new person when she didn’t have to face them in reality or talk to them over phone. She could be herself. She didn’t have to deal with the sight of the other person, meaning, she wouldn’t be phased by the effect of her words on them, because, she can’t see them.

A chronic procrastinator by the day and a multi-tasker my night, Agnus had her life in control. Things got tough but never out of hand. Never to the point of helplessness. She took pride in that. 

Quite frankly, I’d be surprised if she didn’t.

The clock ticked, metaphorically, and her heart grew more impatient. Agnus hated it when things didn’t go according to plan. It irked her. The little misgivings got to her easily and she was forced to act upon her impulses. She had to clear her head. She still had her priorities straight and nothing could ruin that for her. She needed to get the bumps out of her way before sailing through the waters at high speed.

A: Good night you useless moron.

She heaved a sigh of relief. At least now there would be something to look forward to. In her mind, a ‘Good night’ or ‘bye’ was the safest way to start a conversation. Her way of subtly ascertaining her presence but not directly expressing her wish to converse because what if the other person doesn’t want to talk? ‘Bye’ would be the perfect thing to say because you could just say, “I just said bye. It’s not like I wanted that conversation. You were going to sleep? Ok, cool, I already said an appropriate good night. I was also not that in the mood for talking anyway.” But if the other person says something like “oh hey! How have you been!”, you can always begin the conversation. Agnus was a smart girl.

She made sure to cover all her bases. She made it a point to protect herself from every direction. She wouldn’t have to deal with rejection. She wouldn’t have to deal with grief. Not like she didn’t get enough of that from her family and some acquaintances.

Agnus had a social life alright, but all her friendships were more vibrant over text. The good thing that came out of this arrangement was that she knew her way around, she knew the whos and wheres. She knew the people around her. 

Speaking of which, the wait was agonising. How long does it take to reply to a god damn text, she thought. She compared every person’s texting speed to her own, She never left a text unanswered. She didn’t keep people waiting. Ever. 

She wondered why everyone wasn’t like her. Life would have been easier. For her mostly.

Rafael wasn’t a complete stranger. She knew him, she’d seen him around, on campus, probably even in some of her classes. Something about him was endearing, almost beguiling. She was sure she would find something repulsive after a conversation or two. She always did. 

Like I mentioned, a life full of illusions. She could never tell what was real and what wasn’t. Too trusting, too naive. If it weren’t for her chosen knights in shining armours, she would have been in deep trouble. They kept her grounded. She managed to get into enough trouble despite that but the intensity was marginally lesser and for that, she was immensely thankful.

Agnus WANTED to make friends but her shyness got in the way. Rafael was her latest interest. Sounds like a never ending list of conquests but she didn’t intend to hurt or offend. All she wanted was to love and be loved, to make friends, to have people around. 

Breaking her reverie, her phone came to life. There it was, a message lit the screen up and indirectly managed to light up her face. She broke into a careful and sneaky smile.

Of course she wasn’t affected by the messages. Not in the least bit. What are you even talking about. She was smiling because she knew her messages always got a reply. 

R: Ha ha good night A.

That reply was like a roller coaster. Driving her insane with the wait and anticipation and then leaving her with a gaping hole when it did come. She sighed deeply and tried to push it to the back of her head.

The next day wasn’t going to be any different for Agnus. If there was one thing you could praise her for, it was her unabatable enthusiasm for just about anything she set her mind on.

A: Hope your day wasn’t too boring, good night Raf!

This time the reply came within a few seconds and after the previous day’s disappointment, she knew where her expectations should be. 

“I was hoping for a ‘you make my day less boring’ but I’m sure this twat isn’t capable of such creativity.”

R: Well, it isn’t anymore, I suppose, what you upto you fiery canon ball.

Agnus’ eyes were the size of saucers now, and her mouth was hanging open. 

“Wow, this guy is definitely bipolar.” The Katy Perry song ‘Hot and Cold’ seemed inexplicably apt for the situation. Agnus had the habit of relating everything in her life to song lyrics. It was a weird habit but I’d have to agree that songs can say way more than just words. It’s the mood that songs are capable of setting, that makes a difference.

A: Wow, someone’s not already planning their retirement today, What makes you so unusually charged today Raf?

R: Your boisterous personality is infectious babe. 

A: Well I’m glad I stalled someone’s journey to grandpa-ship.

R: You’re funny.

A: I feel like I need to be cheerful for the both of us. You can be a real buzzkill sometimes.

R: We’re going for the ‘no filter’ at full throttle huh?

A: Well, as long as you tell me when I go overboard or god forbid, manage to hurt your feelings, I’d like to be that way. That ok with you? 

R: By all means. please go ahead. It’s an all appreciated trait, why would I oppose. 

A: Because you’re a softy and sore loser?

R: You wound me A. If only you knew, I’m all Hard and muscular. 😉

A: Spare me the gory details please. I’ve had enough anatomy for my whole life. I’d be glad if I can ignore yours.

R: Really now, *spreads arms out and spins around like a model*

A: Nun for life

R: I didn’t know they had the part time option A. It has to be for life.

A: HA  HA  HA. You’re so funny I grew a six pack just laughing at your jokes.

R: I’m glad I could help. Although, it was pretty unnecessary. You don’t even need to try to impress. You’re a natural sweetheart.

Agnus flatlined right there. She lived for moments like this. She craved this kind of attention. She enjoyed it. 

A: Imbecile. I just flatlined. You’re a work of art sometimes Raf. I’ll give you that.

R: And she says nice things too!

A: Don’t get too used to it. 

R: * raises hands* Wasn’t thinking about it. 

A: I just scrolled up, all this started with a good night 😀 haha

R: Well you wished me good night, and the night is still young, so everything kind of falls into place don’t you think?

A: And he makes sense too!

R: My own words against me! *exasperated*

A: ooo big words.

R: I’m a man of big words. 

A: And big anatomy I believe.

R: hahaha naughty! I’m not sure a nun would say that A.

A: That’s nun of your business mate. 😉

R: Eyii! nice one ! haha. I like the wits. Keep it coming tiger.

A: Wouldn’t hold it in for the world.

R: Ah right, the advice should have been, ‘beware and attack tiger’. But then again, to hell with that, be yourself. 

A: ❤

R: :*

Agnus was grinning from ear to ear. She had hope. Hope for a bright future. Hope for a future, period. The exchange was entertaining and it made her feel good. Their wavelengths matched!

That was the day she realised, an end didn’t have to be the end. A full stop repeated is a beginning waiting to be composed. 

Her life was what comes beyond the dot dot dot. She had the power to write it, twist it and turn it how she deemed fit.

A story about new beginnings. A story about hope. Don’t be too sad with the full stop guys, dot dot dot can happen. 

Go ahead, make your ended beginnings. 

Cheers,

A.W.

P.s. That’s a first. Writing in third person sure makes it easier to describe yourself. Feels less like an accusation. And not each person who wants to develop a friendship with someone is desperate. Just because someone is trying hard to impress you does not mean they are desperate for your attention. That’s not the only thing people look for. Sometimes, when you find a person who shares the same interests and opinions, the conversations become more likeable, they become more significant. 

Finding a person like that is hard and when you do find them, you can’t help the urge to chase them, hold them and keep them close. 

For those who aren’t trying because that might make you seem desperate, don’t think too much! If you think that person can understand you, go strike a conversation this second! Tell them they have an amazing personality! This world lacks connection! Don’t try and predict the future. Watch it unfold. 

Melancholy 

Eager to cry eager to die

People order and I comply

Weight of my words seemingly ignored

No other way so my feelings I hoard

A poker face gets me by

No one asked so its not a lie

Calm slumber, a forbidden fruit

I wish I was comatose and mentally mute.

Days pass by while I drown in my sorrow. 

Another day another tomorrow.

-A.W.

Posted in Paediatrics 

To be honest, I’ve never been around kids younger than me and maybe that is the reason why there’s an unsurmountable divide between us, the kids and I that is. 

It goes without saying that there’s always going to be that air of awkwardness when I get posted to the dreaded department of paediatrics. Me being uncomfortable would be an understatement. Physically and mentally paralysed would be more appropriate. 

While I’m here, I might as well make up for all the lost years. With the exploding population, of which, a majority happens to be of the paediatric age group, I hardly doubt I can turn a blind eye to them.

First day of posting. 

Wearing a stethoscope around my neck and fidgeting with the clinical manual for paediatrics in my hand, I take ironically long strides to reach Ward 5. This reminds me of several movie narrations where they say, “and here we are, crossing the line that will decide whether we shall live henceforth or succumb to the beast beyond. There, in a chilling glory, stood room no. 326, the hotel’s most eery corner.”

Only, this wasn’t a hotel room and there weren’t any damned spirits waiting to unleash their wrath upon my tiny frame. 

Lucky me.

Determined to get past this problem, I take a deep breath and enter the ward. Thankfully, the patients were scarce and that was definitely a huge relief. Both for the parents and us medical professionals I suppose. 

I never wanted to learn swimming. I was more of a football and basketball enthusiast (any sport other than swimming actually) but then again my mother had a mind of her own and neither my protests nor my high pitched child cries could do anything to change her mind. The coach, resembled the crafty old wolf while I was the naive little red riding hood. Quite obviously, I hated him. My personality doesn’t seem to be in congruence with the kind little red but let’s just go with it for now. 

Without an iota of concern for my escalating heart rate, the cruel coach lifted me off of the edge of the pool and threw me into it at the deeper side like I weighed nothing (I didn’t, I was the size of a peanut) and not to forget how he made the effort to adjust his stance and launch me like a javelin. 

For those who ask, no, it wasn’t a joy ride. 

Sorry, I’m digressing. The point is, I felt a sense of deja vu. I was being thrown head first into an unknown territory but the difference is, I’m actually enjoying the ride this time. Of course I will, I’m not kicking and slashing desperately to avoid drowning. Duh.

So yesterday, I was assigned a case and this patient was diagnosed with Tuberculosis. A fairly troublesome respiratory illness. Curable if things are done at the right time and right way. 

We were a group of four students who were asked to examine her. Yes, her. Therein lies half of our problems. You see, the female population has these annoying pair of appendages on their chest and you just cannot ask them to take their top off in an open ward.

This kid, though only 10 years of age, had the chest awareness of an adult. I mean, I don’t remember being shy to take off my shirt in front of the doctor but then again, this was a ward and my memory is terrible. 

We took her into the examination room, casually conversed with her whilst trying to get her acclimatised to our presence. Seemed to be working. Or so I thought. 

The minute we asked her to take her top off, she broke into fits of laughter and expressed her shyness. After a lot of futile attempts at persuasion, I had no choice but to go for the last resort. 

“It’s ok kid, there’s nothing you have that we haven’t already seen and I understand your problem, I have them too you know.” 

Nailed it. 

One down, several more to go. As we proceeded with the examination, I was beginning to think that the chest exposing part was the least difficult of them all. I prayed that she wasn’t ticklish. 

I cashed in on all the unluckiness I think. I didn’t even have to touch her for her to cower and turn away. 

Time for plan B. I got my friend to talk to her and keep her distracted while I checked everything. Mission accomplished. 

The next case I got was of an eleven month old infant and boy was he adorable. 

Lessons learnt about an infant: 

1. Don’t give them your ID card to play with, especially not when it’s still around your neck. The kid almost chocked me to death. 

Death by mini homo sapien. 

2. Don’t keep your case record in their vicinity. He managed to drool on it and his saliva managed to sink through half that book. Not to mention how he then reduced that pile of wet paper into a pile of torn paper. 

3. Don’t hold your stethoscope against their chest when they’re active and in the mood to be sadistic. I think I lost my eardrums that day.

4. Don’t delay their feed. The kid will have no problems in scratching your eyeballs out. Their nails are too tiny to be cut. In other words, the kid hath no mercy.

5. Try and Wear a helmet? They fling things at you when you least expect it. Stealth mode on.

That’s all for now folks! 

A.W.

I Have Something

A dangerous kind of torture has been inflicted upon me. It’s called “solar induced rhinocongestion”. 

Go ahead, try and find out what it is. I can bet you won’t find it. I had to walk through several forests, spend countless hours in the scorching sun and sit next to a person who had the disease, to be a patient myself. 

I think it was mostly the last part. But I like the whole elaboration ordeal. 

If you have already read my previous blog, you’d know why I chose to use those massive and nugatory words to describe something so benign. For those who haven’t figured it out yet, I was talking about a cold. Yes, the same one that manages to suffocate you and puts all your bodily holes in an insufferably long period of distress. 

You get a cold and it’s just a matter of time before you end up with a sore throat, a cough, an annoying ear block which makes you sound like a walrus and just add in a fever and whatever gastrointestinal leakage or blockage you can think of and there you have it, nature’s wonderful surprise package deal. I bet god sells it at his supermarket called “makers of mayhem”.

Mayhem. That’s all it ever does. What audacity this virus has! Defeat by deceit! You recover from one horrendous episode thinking you’d have immunity against it now, it’s all over for good but just when you’re about to lay your head down on your soft pillow with relief, the conniving beast strikes again. A-de-no! Ma body de no! It didn’t know that it was you! Again! 

I’m pretty sure it uses my nasal turbinates as it’s personal water slides and my everlasting supply of mucus as it’s very own filthy swimming pool. How amusing! Not. It takes my breath away! In the most unromantic way possible and with all intent to annoy. 

One day, when science will achieve maximum magnification of these pesky little undeniable parasites, Mark my words, I shall rhinocongest the fuck out of its anatomy. 

Sincerely, 

Every cold victim ever. 

The pleasantries 

Hi,

I’m Agnus Walters. I’m a medical student but I’m yet to make up my mind if it’s fortunate or unfortunate. I’ve decided to consider it my unavoidable fate. 

I’m really young right now. I’ve been telling this to myself ever since I set foot into this dark dark black hole that they call “the field of health science”. Alas! I was a little child with the gift of innocence and oblivion and here I am, overburdened with information to look after my body, your body, your grandfather’s body and oh wait! It doesn’t end there, medicine went ahead and taught me how to handle your dead uncle’s body too! I was clumsy at first but I passed anatomy. I think I can handle some balls.

Next time you need a place to bury some dead person, let me know, I learnt about biomedical waste management too. I can promise you a colourful burial. What, with the yellow bags we like to carefully store away the remains in. I offer Starbucks style burial too. Write your name on the bag and scream it when your order (I mean parcel) is ready. 

We people of the medical field like to do things with colour codes. I don’t mean your skin colour. That would be rude.. And racist. We wouldn’t. We might give you some fashion tips though, we know our colour combinations well. We saw the ishihara charts. We know the disgusting colour combinations. So those can be ruled out. 

Also, when you come to the hospital with your husband and your belly (because how dare you! It has it’s own identity too!) we wouldn’t say that you’re pregnant right away. We make a list of things you could be or could have, like obesity, regional abdominal lipoma (that’s not a thing, so that’s ruled out), and maybe pregnancy. And then, we say “inky pinky ponky” and diagnose. Just kidding, we say, “please god, let this be right.”

Anyway, so as I was saying, my epiphyses are yet to fuse and that means there’s still hope. I can touch the sky some day. May be not today but I like to be optimistic. I’m a mobile machine that gives out waves of positivity. You can tap in sometime, I don’t drain. Did you just think, in your head, that I could be a short statured person? HOW DARE YOU THAT’S NOT EVEN wrong. 

People ask me where I’m from. Excellent question. It’s my favourite question. I know where I’m from but parting with that kind of information just takes away the element of suspense and who knows, you might be FBI, we all know where you take your prisoners and torture them, I don’t want to go there. Yes, I’m sure of that. Although, this isn’t me saying that I HAVE done something criminal. Mostly, I wouldn’t have. I can’t remember. YOU CAN’T CHARGE ME FOR THINGS I DON’T REMEMBER DOING, OFFICER! 

So, when I’m asked about my native place, I say I that I was born in Utah, breast fed in Germany, clothed in China, and the rest is history, meaning, I lost track. 

Disclaimer: For any discrepancies in the timeline and distances between countries, my sincere apologies. I’m bad at geography and not that great at lying either. I get by. 

The reason why I do this is because people can’t blame me for not knowing a certain language or rituals of a particular culture or the president of Utah. I don’t even know if it’s a country at all. I was a kid! Just out of someone’s pelvis! I don’t come with a political map inbuilt in my brain, do I? Be reasonable. 

Good riddance to general knowledge. I do know that a particularly artificial haired trumpet rules over the USA right now. He’s so ridiculous even I caught wind of it. 

I think that’s enough introduction for today. We’ll catch up with the “history of presenting illness” some other day. It could be between 8th and 24th. We doctors don’t give precise values you see. We believe in ranges. I wouldn’t say you’re dead. You could be from blissfully asleep to morbidly dead. Not JUST dead. We also believe in adding big words to everything we say. 
A.W.