Saturday, July 25, 2015

MRCP-ed

It seems like just yesterday that it was July 2012 and I had just graduated from Med School, having earned the letters MBBS (London) behind my name after much effort slaving through the years. 

At that point, I had been ecstatic to take a whole year off sitting for exams in F1 and just slacking / being a glorified ward clerk (whatever rocks your boat) without having to use my brain much. 

But those slacker days appeared short-lived because before I knew it, June was here and I was signing my life away to sit for MRCP Part 1. So much for not giving a crap about post-graduate exams. In the end, the pressure from my Consultant Cardiologist trumped everything. 

I still recall passing Part 1 and jumping up and down while doing Surgical On Call, much to the amusement of my Cardiology Registrar who was completely unimpressed and said I had been over-dramatic for nothing when I said I had screwed it up after sitting it. And then Part 2 came and went. And before I knew it, I was signing my life away for PACES. 

The journey through PACES was horrendous. There were many days of people staring at me in disgust like I was the most stupid thing on earth for giving such an answer. Of reading my notes over and over again and reciting presentations in my room. Of staying back till 8 pm to practise examining patients in the hospital. Of wanting to pull my hair out because I never though I could imagine myself passing this exam. Ever. 


And the joy I felt when I received this letter was beyond description. 

Fair enough, as with most things, the euphoria faded pretty quickly and within 1 week my excitement at passing these membership exams had almost completely gone. I was one step closer to hopefully achieving that Cardiology dream, but there were still many many obstacles to go. 

But for now, I was grateful. Grateful for having flown all the way to London and passing these membership exams in my alma mater where I had passed my undergraduate exams. Grateful for everyone who helped me along the way. And grateful for the royal college for making my year such a memorable one! 

And I'm more than happy to be MBBS(London), MRCP(UK)

Now to be a Cardio God...

Sunday, May 03, 2015

Fashion Forward

It seems that no matter how many times I run out of hangers in my closet over and over again, I still face the eternal problem of standing in front of it every morning and scratching my head over the outfit of the day. 

Yes, I admit I have been letting myself go lately, partly because when you have ballooned in size, nothing really looks good anymore...partly also because it's just too damn hot to bother wearing anything besides a pair of shorts and any floaty top in Singapore. 

But with this recent craze, I have never been more desperate to get my hands on a pair of these. 

Culottes....

Yes, I realise they have been around for a while. Yes, I am a tad slow. But it's never too late to start. 

Although, if you pause for a second, are we really going fashion forward....or backward. 


But hey, you gotta admit even back then, these two girls were probably the funkiest of their crowd. They could really pull off that baggy bottomed look. 


And contrary to popular belief, orange is definitely one of my favourite colours when it comes to dressing up...or down. My favourite pair of vermilion skinny minis from GAP are still going strong as a staple in my work wardrobe. Now if only I could get my hands on a pair like these... 


And how incredibly chic are these girls here??? I love how pairing it with a pair of pointy-toed stilettos instantly transforms something casual into something that looks work-worthy. 

And call me a daredevil, but I would wear this to work any day. 

Yes, while most of the world is having a love affair with culottes at the moment, I have managed to scrounge a pair from Zara, after much deliberating - I only wish I had a wider range to choose from that would fall just perfectly below the knee or if only I were that much taller. 

Ah, retail therapy. Looking so forward to dappling in much of it again in London. 

And suddenly, everything is alright again :) 

Saturday, April 04, 2015

Counting one's blessings

I have wanted to be a doctor for as long as I could remember. 

My most distinct memory being at age 13, when I proudly wrote an excerpt on wanting to be a neurosurgeon. Of course, that rapidly changed over time to cardiothoracic surgery and then even more rapidly to cardiology. 

It's strange how life seemed much simpler when one is younger. I had never imagined, 20 years ago, that in my late 20's, my life would be as such: unsettled. 

Whether it was a blessing in disguise or a curse, problems concerning matters of the heart have been completely obsolete. Instead, I had moved from one country where I had spent a good part of my life back to the east, with the hope that by doing so, I would feel more settled and closer to home and family. The only thing I have gained by packing up and moving all these miles to this neighbouring country is numerous withering glares, endless fault-finding, being reprimanded from all angles of the hospital by every single person possible and every single way possible of saying "Are you thick or what? How can you not know this?" 

In an environment where I had loved my job in the UK, despite the NHS and its shortcomings, where I had received many a compliment about being a very good F1 and grown so much to become a reliable SHO a year later, I have to grit my teeth everyday to keep it together and hang on, because I am this close to achieving my childhood dream. 

On bad days, I wonder why I ever put myself through this and why my character is stubborn as such. 

If only I was not as narrow-minded and lacked interest in other things so easily. 

If only I had been open-minded enough to embrace a career besides medicine earlier on in life. 

If only I had not been so adamant about being a cardiologist and settled for something more 'life-friendly' like general practice. 

These days, I not only struggle with the department thinking I am stupid, I struggle with questioning my own stupidity, especially with the PACES exam looming. On top of knowing even less than I did as a medical student - if even possible. 

Perhaps I do not have what it takes to be a medical registrar after all, lest a cardiology registrar. 

And then I came across an entry I wrote when I was a 4th year medical student doing Neurology, and my experience at the neuro rehab centre. I recalled distinctly how inspired I had felt back then, how my heart ached for the patients who did not deserve any of the fate they had suffered. 

And then I check myself right there, in the midst of my laments of being fat, of not having an Oxbridge brain, of being so stupid all the time, of lacking confidence, of not having a soulmate at this point in life, of my cardiology dream being such an intangible thing in the distance. 

Of all my shortcomings and my lack of achievement, I am, at least, healthy and alive. And neurologically intact. 

Nobody said it was ever easy on this long road to achieving that dream, and perhaps I just need to take a longer, more winding road than others, but on this subject of counting one's blessings, I am grateful that I am here....at this point in life. 

And that I maybe a little slower and lack the intellect of some others, but I will give my best shot at these bloody membership exams.