The Peplum Phase

So it's official. I have yet again, another new addiction. 

This time, it is none other than the very demure, very classic, absolutely to-die-for peplum. 

I started wearing them over summer after being talked into buying a couple of tops in Singapore by some salesgirls and have been so hooked ever since. 

I don't take very many pictures of myself in the different outfits, but trust me, if I had an endless supply of cash, I would be buying every single peplum top I set my eyes on this very moment. 

This...was particularly love at first sight:

This was something that I could even potentially wear in the hospital, and ohhhh soooo versatile! The only glitch that it was Phillip Lim and obviously out of my budget as a measly FY1. 

And then there was this: the perfect answer to my dual obsession with lace AND peplum. A recipe for disaster, if I ever set my eyes on this in any High Street store for sure. 

Thankfully, this one was designer and would have ripped a hole in my wallet. Now, if only my job didn't really require running around the corridors trying to rush to an ABG machine for results or answering bleeps in between trying to juggle scribing in notes. If only I could wear stiletto heels and pencil skirts and walk at any pace I liked. 

Well, a girl can always dream. 

So yeah, the only downside of the peplum top is that it probably adds a couple of unnecessary inches to my not-so-tiny waist, and seeing as I am not 44 kg, that might not be ideal, but hey....there are just some vices in life that should be allowed. 

On second thought, forget the practicality of work outfits. I am so buying a lace peplum top the next time I go shopping. Even if it doesn't particularly come across as hospital-friendly attire, I could always wear it the next time I go to a dressier event, perhaps when the moon next turns blue. 

Gosh, I am such a shopaholic. 

So this is what I signed up for...

A life of continuously rushing around the corridors of the hospital, being bleeped in every single direction and having a seemingly endless list of jobs to complete over each stretch of 12 hours. And when I say 12 hours are not enough, I mean they are not enough. 

First weekend of ward cover being on call - check. 

Horrendous ward cover oncall experience - CHECK. 

I am not much of a Drama Queen, but last night, I was on the verge of exasperation. I had to hand over a list of stupid jobs to the Nights F1 simply because 12 hours was not enough for me to run from one corner of the hospital to another in between getting bleeped every 5 minutes and sprint down to A&E for TWO cardiac arrest calls. So amidst watching two ppl die and watching a guy I had clerked in slowly deteriorate right in front of my eyes with the most deranged blood results ever, I had to mentally psych myself aloud into bringing on another day of ward cover without buckling. 

If there is one thing that my debaucles with matters of the heart have taught me over the years, it is to be stronger. And in moments like these, it has never proved to be more useful. 

So today, I cruised into 3 pm in the afternoon thinking that all was completely under control. And then things started to spiral the other way. Each time the Med Registrar saw me, he would take a look at me and go: 

"Alyssa, have you eaten all day?"

"No."

"Oh my God. Please. Go and eat something." 

And proceeded to drag me into the Doctor's office to force me to eat a doughnut. 

And just as I was leaving tonight, he took one look at me and said "Alyssa you look absolutely knackered. Are you okay?"

Yeah, maybe not. After I was bleeped to see someone who turned out to have a Pulmonary Oedema on my way to Handover at 8.55 pm. After not eating anything before 10 pm for the past three days. Maybe not. 

Not to mention all the stupid questions that I have had to ask the Reg over the weekend and how my heart just lurches each time I am faced with a really sick patient. 

I have so much to learn still. It makes me really wonder if I will ever make it to be a Medical Registrar. Or any kind of Registrar at all. 

We'll see how I feel in three years or so. 

Hello, Cardiology F1 speaking

Because that is all I say these days when I get bleeped left, right and centre to prescribe this person Clopidogrel, rewrite that person's drug chart or please come and review Mr. X who is suddenly complaining of chest pain. 

And each day, it is almost amusing when my fellow F1 and I are notified of yet another new admission into CCU, and upon asking the question "What's the story with this new patient?", it seems our telepathy skills have improved drastically because I could almost put my money on it being Chest Pain. Or Shortness of breath. Or a collapse. 

When I was a Final Year doing my Medicine and Surgery placements where I was shadowing the F1, I was positive that I wouldn't have any trouble adapting to the job the following year, simply because much of the feedback I received revolved around me being 'really efficient' or 'too useful to discard' on the wards. Yes, my knowledge was hardly there. But I didn't like wasting time and I liked making sure that everything was sorted before I called it a day. 

Now that I am a junior doctor in Cardiology for real, it seems that I had imagined myself to be better than I really was. It took me a while to grasp the Trust's IT system, almost making the then F1 whom I was shadowing frown many a time in exasperation when I asked one stupid question after another. When I finally got my mind around that, the number of errors I came up with was astounding. I would cringe each time a weird look came across the Registrar's face when I had to explain yet again why the angio images from Salisbury had not yet arrived, or the look of astonishment on the Consultant's face when I could correctly give an answer to "What are the signs of Pericardial effusion?", as though it was amazing that I actually knew something. 

So my knowledge as a doctor remains close to obsolete. And I apparently am not as 'valuable' on the wards as I had imagined myself to be. The Registrar is always one step ahead and it seems I still lack the initiative to have everything perfectly in order at each start of the day. 

Today I told my Consultant that I wanted to be a Cardiologist. Fortunately for me, he was as encouraging as one could be. Whether or not it is a feasible achievement, that is a matter for the near future, but for the moment, I have this to work towards. 

Don't get me wrong, I might be dense. And my medical knowledge might be 1/100th of a Cardiology SpR's, but I enjoy my job. I enjoy the adrenaline it brings each day from rushing around chasing stuff in between having to clerk in Primary PCI's from Cath Lab. It gives me a sense of fulfillment when I know my patients so well that I can give an accurate summary without having to refer to the clerking proforma. And it makes me proud when I manage to successfully beg the Physiologist to squeeze in an echo for my patient who is hanging on a very thin thread of patience because she has been waiting for days just to have an echo. 

I love the fact that working hard everyday helps me take my mind off everything else and that I don't even have time to be bored or exasperated with my life, or rather a lack of it. It helps me take my mind off my homesickness, how much I miss my friends and the life we had in London as med students, of how much I have suffered one blow after another to my heart in recent times, and the uncertainty of my future. Without work, it seems I feel almost empty and at the verge of withdrawal symptoms. Knowing me, it is just like me to get hooked on something else to get my mind off the issues at present. 

And at the moment, I am determined to get myself hooked on the job. 

Who knows, as far as Cardiology as career is concerned, this could be as good as it gets. 

So here's to hopefully making the most out of my 4 month Cardiology stint and stepping up to the job. They are big to fill, these boots. But I never say never. 

Vamos Shing!