Dreams.Expectations.

"To dream anything that you want to dream; that's the beauty of the human mind. To do anything that you want to do; that is the strength of the human will. To trust yourself to test your limits; that is the courage to succeed."

When I announced my job offer from a rather renowned hospital in Sydney, I received the comforting support and rooting from my old friends back home, like the shining stars in the sky - not always seen but always there. I did not anticipate the confrontations and suspicions that were to assail me from another group of individuals, whom plagued with delusional bias and deeply fixated opinions, perhaps did not know me afterall.

I do not owe anyone other than my loving parents any explanation at all regarding my life choices, but I do feel compelled to straighten out my thoughts and goals here as a testimony that there will be no regrets in future with my current crucial decision.

The one question that kept bugging me was: "Why go to Sydney? Why not stay on?" And the answer was very simple and heartfelt: I like Sydney.

I have no adversity towards my current adopting city. In fact, if my dear friends have been reading my previous blog entries, I actually find this place beautiful. But I am just referring to the god-sent landscape. A HOME is not just about its physical structure but also its occupants, culture and ambience. I know I am unable to call this place my home because I do not feel belonged here. It is not just about having friends or family, or holding a highly esteemed occupation here, but it has to be about feeling accepted and acknowledged, not ambitiously as a potential citizen, but at the very least a welcomed guest. Life may not be a bed of roses as well in Sydney, but "hope arouses, as nothing else can arouse, a passion for the possible". And hence I pray that I may be able to blend in more smoothly with its bigger mix of Asian population and a more familiar urbane lifestyle.

Another misconception that plugged me was: "Are you leaving because you think the hospitals in Sydney are more prestigious?" My honest reply to that: "No, it is we who shape the environment, not what the place maketh us."

I have high regards for the immense knowledge and skills of the medical professionals here and there is no doubt about their dedication and credibility, even if it is without the state-of-the-art facilities that the main cities can boast of. I am grateful for having the opportunity to work here and it has so far been pleasant and conducive for me. But having reached the point of my life when I would have to decide on my long-term career goal, I would not have been able to hop around in various subspecialties that I have touched base with back at home. And I could not have rejected the golden egg that was presented to me. Eventually it would be up to me whether I make my indellible mark in my new adopting city, which I envisage would involve a fair amount of hard work and commitment.

I am happy that my good friend has found great satisfaction and fulfilment in his job here, and he would have had all my blessings and support in his future endeavours. At the same time, I would have wished for the same level of understanding and encouragement from him, though not forgetting the vast differences in culture and background between us. We may not share the same outlook of life and thus deal with problems in our own unique styles. I respect his views and reasons, and hope that he will similarly empathise with me. I will strive to develop more tolerance towards my new foreign environment, but I would wish for less narrow-mindedness and more maturity from him when treading on our friendship realms.

"True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable."

I rest my case.

Fragility

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breaths away"

While doing a 2-week relief term in the Haematology unit at a local hospital, I was asked by a friendly dietician whether there was any difference at all between managing the patients here compared to the ones in my homeland. Her concern was whether it would have been better back home, given our more sophisticated setups and state-of-the-art compounds in comparison to the tattered building and image of the old Mater Hospital. My reply to her was simply: "No difference".

Firstly, I feel that the principles of management would have been of the same wavelength at both places and probably worldwide, at least in developed countries. How far can we deviate from the basics as long as the medications and potent drugs are available and of similar generics? With the advent of evidence-based medicine, it is of paramount importance that we follow the recognised practice code and not indulge in unorthodox treatments which may be more detrimental to the health of the patients.

"Does Mrs Davis, an elderly 89 year old lady with erythroleukoblastic picture in her blood film, require a bone marrow trephine and aspirate....?"

"Jane is a 32 year old mother of two with a newly diagnosed ALL (acute lymphocytic leukaemia); she would require prophylactic intrathecal chemotherapy during the course of her treatment...."

Although my last 6-month rotation in Haematology was 2 years ago, I could still remember the chemotherapy regimes and procedures with ease and familiarity. We treated the dreaded neutropenic sepsis with anticipation and aggression, subjecting the patients to high-end antibiotics and fungal treatments. We loaded them with bags and litres of blood and platelets to restore the deceptive glow on their cheeks while halting their epistaxis or bleeding guts. We collected CSF (cerebrospinal fluid) for analysis before infusing the highly potent cytarabine and prayed hard that the merciless disease had not infiltrated the nervous system.

I have met the most compassionate and dedicated physicians during my rotation here and back home. I remember with fondness the gentle teachings and comforting words articulated by our head of department in one of the largest transplant centres in my homeland, a very soft-spoken and humble gentleman of high standing and great accomplishment, who eventually set up the first stem-cell hospital in my country. I remember the high-morale battles we fought together and the sadness when our longtime patients lost theirs. My seniors were kind and extremely knowledgeable, and through their expert guidance, I have mastered the proper skills of performing the essential bone marrow trephines, administering intrathecal agents and conducting clinic sessions with confidence.

I noticed similar traits in the attendings (consultants) here and admired their excellence in knowledge, professionalism and empathy. It was regretful that I would only be with the department for a mere 2 weeks before flying off for my annual leave.

The patients left the most indellible impressions during these rotations. Being inflicted by these long-course illnesses, they would have to make several trips to the hospitals for the treatments and the complications that ensued subsequently. They were of varying ages and backgrounds, with differing prior fitness and medical histories. The commonest question on the initial learning of their diseases would always be: "How did this happen? Why me?" It would be a million-dollar answer to conquest.

Regardless of their origins, whether they were Aussies or Asians, they had similar optimisms and tenacity. With supportive families and friends, they valiantly braved the pains, nauseating moments, hair loss and increasing fatigue. They turned paler by the day and lost their chubbiness or pot bellies. They sighed with resignation at the fragility of life and made resolutions of what they wished to attain before their last moments. The pictures of their loved ones on the walls and the bibles on their tables became their sources of inspiration and will-power. It was uplifting when some of them eventually made their strides into the clinics after their victories, but depressing and demoralising when they finally succumbed.

"Death is not the greatest loss in life; the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live" (Norman Cousins, American essayist and editor, 1912-1990)

Hopefully it was with peace of mind that they breathed their last, and that all those around them who were involved in their care would seek eventual closure.

Life's Good

I am euphoric! I am going home soon for Chinese New Year! I am going to see my parents whose smiles I miss terribly, and reminisce with my old chummy friends whom I have not seen for the last 6 months. It may seem like a short time but it has been like eternity to me. Perhaps it is because I have been through so much of a life event here that it makes my yearning for stability and cuddling love even stronger than ever. But I know that there are lots of things which I have yet to accomplish here and that I would have to leave the comfort zone again after 3 weeks of precious reunion. Nevertheless it makes my heart pound whenever I think of my familiar abode and its aromatous food of love.

There was a short trying period when I thought I was back to solitude and aloofness, in isolation, on foreign grounds. A few of my good friends had left physically, either back visiting in their hometown or being transferred to the outbacks on a temporary basis. Thankfully some of them have returned, although we were all so caught up with our work subsequently. I guess what really touched me was when they all once again rallied around me when I needed them most, lending their supporting ears and comforting shoulders. We had more frequent meals and outings, and they never failed to cheer me up with their spontaneous wits and entertaining presence. The phonecalls and emails that I received from my faraway friends warmed my heart and rekindled my optimism for life. I could never thank God enough for what I was blessed with.

When my close friend of 17 years from home divulged few weeks ago about her discharging breast lump, I was struck with a sudden fear that I may lose her forever. A part of me wanted to fly back immediately and be by her side to share those terrifying moments, but my common sense was telling me that this was not possible then and I had to be rational in order to offer appropriate support for her. Fortunately all turned out to be well and she subsequently had a benign cyst removed surgically. I was glad I called and heard her shrilling voice once more.

I enjoyed reading this article penned by a homegrown writer in her late fifties: "Life's Good when You are at Peace with Yourself". It was an inspiring piece for me, found in the Sunday Straits Times Interactive (www.asiaone.com; 'Think' section, 23rd Jan 2005), which I am still trying to figure out how to link it to my blog. Her last sentence held the most truth: "....We can make Singapore a great place to live....but you do need to be in a good place within yourself as well."

I hope I would be able to attain this state of mind eventually.

Medicine Woman

It was one of those weekends when I had the pressing urge to chill out in my comfy room instead of driving down to the beach or sweating out at the lake. And I happened to chance upon the later half of the series "Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman" on TV while munching indulgently on my Arnott's biscuits.

The protagonist, Dr Michaela ("Mike") Quinn, was a young and elegant lady, one of the very few females trained in the life-saving field during the 19th century. Brimming with youthful idealism and highest ambition, she uprooted herself from her liberated hometown of Boston and travelled to Colorado Springs with the hope of being a pioneer in the setting up of a decent medical treatment area for the small conservative population. In those days far from the era of female emancipation, when the roles of women were strictly limited to homemaking and childbearing, it was not surprising therefore that Dr Quinn would have to deal with several uphill challenges, not in her medical knowledge (which I must say, was fairly impressive), but rather to be acknowledged and recognised as a DOCTOR.

From the patients' refusal to be treated by a female doctor, to the barring of entrance into certain buildings due to gender discrimination, Dr Quinn constantly strived to break the tradition with her tenacity and determination. She dealt with this narrow-mindedness, not with spite and vindictiveness, but with the maturity that came with her sophisticated upbringing and civilised education. She wore pride and dignity on her demure persona, which manifested clearly at the scene when she was told that females were not allowed into the drinking bars.

"I am not a woman; I am a doctor", she insisted, when a prostitute pleaded for help but was unable to leave the premise as she wished. Dr Quinn was in every sense a woman, and one with lots of substance and charisma.

Another striking feature that I noticed in the show was the way medicine was practised, both primitively and modernised. It was certainly worrisome when surgeries and resuscitations had to be done without any protective gloves or sterilised equipments, which is probably reflective in the current situation of the tsunami tragedy. Yet the foundation and early principles of management were preserved and familiar, such as the performance of tracheostomy in the most basic manner for securing of the airway.

Dr Quinn never quite succeeded in being the pioneer that was intended but she had gained in other aspects, including finding a new family, love and respect. It was a meaningful ending to a simple yet profound episode.

***
People enter the field of Medicine for various reasons. As I read the witty and powerfully written blogs of fellow medical professionals, Maria (www.intueri.org) and Emeritus (www.emeritus.blogspot.com), I am heartened to learn that the very basic human decency and compassion exist even at this modern age of materialism and sincerely applaud their commitment and integrity.

We are all individuals with our own set of aspirations and achievements. We have varying views and deal with matters in our own unique way. Ultimately it is what the intentions are and where the hearts belong that truly make the difference.

Think of Me

Best All-time Breakup Songs and Breakup Song Lyrics!!!!!

Think of Me
Andrew Lloyd Webber
(from Phantom of the Opera)

(Christine)
Think of me,
Think of me fondly,
When we've said goodbye.
Remember me once in a while
Please promise me you'll try.

When you find that, once again,
You long to take your heart
Back and be free -
If you ever find a moment,
Spare a thought for me...

We never said our love was evergreen,
Or as unchanging as the sea
But if you can still remember,
Stop and think of me...

Think of all the things
We've shared and seen -
Don't think about the things
Which might have been...

Think of me,
Think of me waking, silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard
To put you from my mind.

Recall those days,
Look back on all those times,
Think of the things we'll never do -
There will never be a day,
When I won´t think of you...

(Raoul)
Can it be?
Can it be Christine?

What a change!
You're really not a bit the gawkish girl
that once you were ...

She may not remember me,
but I remember her ...

(Christine)
We never said our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea -
but please promise me
that sometimes you will think
ah-ah-ah-ah-aaah-of me!

It was one of my favourite movies and musicals, one that pulled on my heartstrings and lingered on for a long time. The casts were charming and the music mesmerising.

It reminded me of him....

Lessons of Life

I felt like I've fought the longest and most tedious battle ever. And it was only for 3 days! But whatever the cause it may be, I've emerged victorious! *applause*

I've finally beaten those admin b**** hands-down. Whatever hell they would have bestowed on me, costing me my peaceful sleep and needed appetite over the last few hours, it was eventually grit and truth that prevailed. Another triumph, another celebration of life. Hopefully, more wisdom gained. And pray to God, that there will be no more repetition of it regardless of its glorious outcome.

Lessons learned from this one-in-a-lifetime experience:

i) Stick to our cause and never give up, no matter how impossible it may seem. For nothing in this world is impossible, if effort has been put in.

ii) Ensure that everything is in black and white, whether on paper or in email. Keep them for a long while coz we may never know when the bitchiest problems may arise, even if they may be umpteen years away.

iii) Try as much as we can to garner support and assistance, preferably from godly people of high authority and importance. Voices from such individuals pitch higher than any decibels that we may bellow.

iv) Always keep our cool, even if we know that we are being blatantly bullied and not in the wrong. For we are from the respected and cultured Singaland, a refined breed of Chinese and intellectuals, with our pens sharper than any words that the barbarians may utter.

v) If our forefathers had accumulated wonderfully good deeds and reaped karma and blessings for their procreations, we may find ourselves not having to squeak a vowel, whilst silently and gleefully watching the bombings of those b**** by the throned ones, though not surpassing that of the Hiroshima mushroom clouds.

vi) Speak little. The more we argue, the higher the likelihood of us losing our emotions and cool. Use the pen wisely, write to the essential beings (meaning the bigshots) who are fair and sympathetic, and make sure the powerful poems are addressed to the b**** as well.

vii) Never say 'quit'. We may drop a hint in the grapevine, so that it somehow reaches the appropriate ears "unintentionally", yet not confirming or admitting it at any cost, unless we are being pushed right into the hard wall of reality and despair, with no tiniest hope of return. Quitting only reveals our flaw of weakness of minds and half-heartedness, further perpetuating the validity of racial inferiority and bullying tendencies.

viii) Try as much as we can never to face such trials alone. We are human beings with emotions and sentiments. We need the most support and encouragement from our friends and families. I would not have been able to achieve the 'V' without the social network that I have over here. And I am sincerely grateful to all those who have showered me with their concern and care. It is trying to walk the path of life on our own.

An inspiring poem lifted from a fellow blogger (www.emeritus.blogspot.com):

Birth is a beginning
And death a destination
And life is a journey:
From childhood to maturity
And youth to age;
From innocence to awareness
And ignorance to knowing;
From foolishness to discretion
And then, perhaps, to wisdom;
From weakness to strength
Or strength to weakness ---
And, often, back again;
From health to sickness
And back, we pray, to health again;
From offense to forgiveness,
From loneliness to love,
From joy to gratitude,
From pain to compassion,
And grief to understanding ---
From fear to faith;
From defeat to defeat to defeat ---
Until, looking backward or ahead,
We see that victory lies
Not at some high place along the way,
But in having made the journey, stage by stage,
A sacred pilgrimage.
Birth is a beginning
And death a destination.
And life is a journey,
A sacred pilgrimage ---
To life everlasting. ---

Rabbi Alvin I. Finefrom Gates of Repentance, p. 283

After much ventilation for the purpose of sanity and self-satisfaction, I am ready to move on. Ah....dreaming of Sydney.....

Cracked Brains

"Doctor, I am too scared to go home. I think my dad will really kill me...", the rather good-looking 17-year-old with finely chiselled facial features said to me, maintaining a flattened affect ironically.

I turned to his father who had brought his delusional son to the hospital and was now sitting quietly next to him, listening attentively to our interview.

"Ask him what he did yesterday with his 'good' friend. He just had his shot of 'pot'.....", he finally revealed. I sensed his subtle tone of triumph.

The patient unwittingly confessed his reversion to his "old passion", claiming that he had long quitted, if not for temptation by his flatmate from the teaching university just the day before.

I tried hard to hide my utmost astonishment. This is the first time anyone had ever so openly confessed about their crack-snooting acts.

Welcome to the land of Oz.

*****

A young woman with no past medical problems was brought in by her anxious and overly-concerned relatives, after a sudden seizure.

"She took 'Speed' during the Christmas party last night. She had taken it before without any problems.....", her sister and brother-in-law claimed as-a-matter-of-factly.

I informed the neurologist on duty, as I felt the need to monitor her overnight in the hospital due to the arrhythmic effects on her cardiac status and possibility of recurrent fits in view of the long half-life of amphetamine in the system.

"That was obviously caused by the pill. Her family can take care of her....", the specialist claimed, shrugging it off conveniently.

He discharged her swiftly, much to the cracking glee of the patient.

*****

While triaging a tattooed man in his thirties who presented with severe one-sided pleuritic chest pain today, I attempted to cannulate him so that we could do some good by administering fast and effective analgesia intravenously.

"You're gonna have problems finding some good veins. I am an IV user and I haven't managed to find one last weekend....", he heaved in short sentences whilst writhing in pain.

I looked up at him, trying to decipher what I just heard. "You mean IV DRUG user?" I was simply astounded by his unassuming frankness.

"Yes, I've been shooting morphine and heroin. I have them every week", he replied, resoundingly loud as thunder across the room.

"Where do you get them?" I probed further, with aroused interest.

"Oh....anywhere in New Zealand. They sell it everywhere. Cost me 50 bucks for 10mg...." he went on bragging about his possessions, brewing immensed pride on his face, probably the only achievement in his entire cracked-up life.

"I see...hmmm...so you couldn't find your veins.....hmmm....so your drugs were wasted...." I played along, at the same time tapping for any bouncy vessel I could locate on his muscular forearm.

"Yes, wasted!" he agreed wholeheartedly, then laughed to himself.

At this moment, I had failed cannulation once , after trying vigorously to wriggle the needle through his sclerosed veins, a sure end-product of his die-hard habits. I aborted any further attempt, deciding to give him an oral shot instead. "I'll get someone else to try it on you again", I told him before I left my shift.

Somehow, I didn't feel a pinch of pity for him.

Beauty

The lake was so pristine and crystal-clear. No words could adequately describe the natural beauty and serenity that greeted me as I drove via the roundabout into the parking space just facing the waters. Simply breathtaking and mesmerising. It blended so harmoniously with the clear blue sky, only intercepted by the lush greeneries and neatly stacked houses on the land. The streaky clean white clouds floating carefree contributed to the picturesque landscape with perfection. Sounds of children's joyous laughter and sights of families enjoying their pushbike ridings together only added to the life and vibrance of God's creations.

I wondered to myself: Am I going to give up all these, once I pack my bags for Sydney?

I had made it a point to do some brisk-walking at the lake whenever I had my work days off. It had been extremely therapeutic, adding a touch of healthy glow to my sagging cheeks and elevating my endorphins to mood-lifting levels. As the gentle breeze caressed my face, I usually found my sweat glands adequately subdued, thanks to the perfect blend of cooling temperatures and warmth from the sunny rays. Along the path, I would be greeted by curious looks from the toddlers and friendly smiles of their grandparents.

I could not take my eyes off the expansive blue waters, which were always so inviting and calming. The ripples, still as a mirror, would be occasionally disrupted by the paddles of the canoes, the rumblings from the jetski or the daring acts of the wakeboarders. The lake served ideally as fishing grounds for the introverted young and old ones, as well as parking lots for the majestic yachts at the corner.

It was mentally and physically rejuvenating after some heart thumping and muscles pumping. Resting at one of the benches along the lake contours, I would sip my favourite fruit drink laced with loads of vitamins, read a book, or simply ponder upon my life and choices. I would spend a lifetime there before I have to move on.

This is perhaps one of the spotlights that I would miss sorely when I bid farewell to this land. The others would be its relative safety compared to the bigger cities and the sedentary pace. The last point may be a pusher at this stage of my (still youthful) life. Despite what some individuals may describe it as being the most boring place on earth, it is nevertheless a beautiful work of art by our Heavenly One, to be appreciated by its rightful inhabitants and those whose lives were touched by pleasurable memories here.

As for me, the restless soul, it would be a quest for yet another greener pasture out in the vast ocean.

Crossroad & Opportunities

I sought a divination ('qian') at the Sima Road Guanyin temple at Singaland as I approached my decision to venture overseas with uncertainty and trepidations.

I am neither a devout Christian or Buddhist but I do attend the respective sacred grounds due to positive influences from friends and family. I believe that the religious teachings serve as useful guidelines for me to tread the right path and strive to be a worthy individual in my community.

The 'qian' phrased that I would meet some very influential people ('gui ren') along the course of my life who would help my future career soar sky-high like the flying heavenly dragon. This literal translation might sound tad too exaggerating, but it was through these powerful wordings that I eventually had my dad's blessings to take up this seemingly impossible path.

The thundering predictions could never have been more resounding now as I face the next crossroad of my life, where perhaps the final definition of my destiny may be.

***
It was a simple Christmas dinner with Prof JS from the Paediatrics department at our tertiary hospital, and his family. We met for the first time. There was minimal interaction across the table, as we faithfully tucked in our appetising dishes in the posh Chinese restaurant with noise volumes way above unsurmountable decibels. We were invited to his cosy abode tucked in the quiet corner of Cardiff for a cuppa after.

"So Elizabeth, what do you plan to do?", his charming soft-spoken wife enquired, after we had melted the ice and started chatting.

I raved about my past training as a family physician back home and my desire to do Geriatrics, due to my love of contact with the elderly.

"Do you like kids?", Prof asked out of the blue.

"Yes, I do.....", I replied positively, looking into his deep-seated eyes.

"Perhaps you may want to see me in my office tomorrow, so that I can introduce to you some very important people who would be able to help get you into my department. I would tell them that you are good and I want you in my unit. You can be a resident first and if you perform well, you can be promoted and start your training..... "

I was left speechless and am still astonished and amazed by my stroke of luck that the Yelutide season had brought me.

We did meet the following day and he showed me around the department, introducing me to the rest of the staff as a potential resident for the next term. He was extremely cordial and sincere. It was the most flattering experience for me.

***
I received prompt notices from 2 renowned hospitals in Sydney within a week of submitting my CVs, offering me availability of positions in Geriatrics. I could be going for my interviews by the end of this month if everything runs as smoothly. I have yet to explore my options in my present land, although the glittering lures of the state-of-the-art facilities and reputable training opportunities in the city are simply too tempting and mouth-watering. I consider the pros and cons of each choice and am in a dilemma at the moment, as I reach my crossroads.

I pray hard for more guidance and inspiration, that I would make a wise decision at the end of the day, with good intentions and blessings.

Blessings

I received a wonderful piece of news from my longtime friend back home: "I'm getting married! My Chinese wedding is in June....", she announced excitedly over the phone.

I was so happy for her that I wanted to fly home, hold her hands and give her a breathstopping hug.

We have known each other for 15 years and have kept in close touch, despite having attended different colleges after being classmates for only 2 years, and embarking on entirely diversed career paths. She deals with money and mind-boggling figures, while I would struggle with lives and deaths in antiseptic environments. We helped each other through our emotional and physical turmoils, sharing our challenging work and social lives. She is always the more matured and sensible half, ever so unassuming and calm, while I am usually more hot-tempered and impatient. We have met each other's families and formed close-knitted alliances of permanence. I visited her father when he was hospitalised for a heart condition, whilst she and her mum would research actively into depression when my dad was inflicted with it. She was one of the first to know of my desire to venture abroad and I always appreciate her valuable advices and encouragement.

I was heartened to know that she had finally found the Right One. After years of encounter with boorish and arrogant Singaland male species, it was he who eventually touched her dainty heart and set it soaring sky-high. She would talk about The One with inner bliss exuding from every pore and radiance illuminating the whole room. Their wedding, though relatively small-scaled, would perhaps be one of the more sincere and heartwarming that I would have attended. Pray that my annual leave would be approved again.

I have been invited to countless weddings since my graduation, mostly of colleagues and mere acquaintances. I have since learnt to be more selective, and never cease craving to be part of my best pals' joyous celebrations, with the truest intention and best wishes. Having missed one of their ceremonies in December when I was here was definitely one that was peppered with a sprinkle of regret and guilt.

I have heard of former best pals who turned their backs against one another in times of need or even a simple wedding, and am never panged with pity or loss for them. For a true long-lasting friendship has to be built on a concrete foundation of genuine love and concern, not one of convenience and coincidence. And certainly, time is never a sole and crucial factor if sincerity is lacking right from the start.

Henceforth, it is my utmost wish that my dearest friend would chance upon this column, embraced wholeheartedly with my blessings and congratulations, that she may attain real happiness and contentment in life.

Not forgetting that I would be the very first in the queue to be the godmother for her bundle of joy to come ;)

Affirmation

I am truly counting my lucky stars. What I heard today about myself had been very unexpected but utterly flattering.

It was a usual quiet morning at the workplace, post New Year holidays. I grabbed the rare opportunity to have a chat with my senior consultant, the very saviour who had graciously sponsored me for my much desired employment here. I honestly informed him about the circumstances of my potential job offer by the Paediatrics department and earnestly requested a testimonial from him, which he readily agreed to.

Then, with bated breath, I asked for a feedback for my performance so far in his department, citing my desire for further self improvement. His answer turned out to be extremely encouraging, to my pleasant surprise. He mentioned several positive qualities which he perceived that I possessed, though he did comment that I appeared rather anxious at the beginning of my job. But he reckoned that he would rather have a staff who was apprehensive about her standard and would strive to improve herself, rather than be complacent and stagnant as a result. I laughed at myself for having been the freak queen in the department.

The most heartening sentence which came forth would be: "Elizabeth, you have come very far at this stage of your life." He continued to affirm that I had been much better than what I would have thought about myself. He was impressed with my knowledge and skills and would not have hesitated to employ anyone else who would have originated from Singapore subsequently (Phew, glad I did not spoil the Singaland market).

I certainly do not mean to brag and boast about myself here. I know I am not perfect and my only wish is to do some good difference for my patients and those in need. This, I had reiterated to my consultant as well. But this was definitely the highlight of the day, and for my present life journey and career. It was an added consolation for me leaving my comfort zone and carving my life here. It was an affirmation for all my efforts put in to make up for the troughs that I had endured. And I sincerely believe that it would be better as the days go by.

Demise of a Friendship

A very sombre title for the new year. And of course, nothing compared to the catastrophic deaths of the victims in the recent Asian tsunami. But I need to voice this again: The fundamentals of respect and integrity in human existence is sadly dead in some people.

My dad could never have been more accurate in his judgement of characters. It has to be due to his advanced age and vast previous experiences. Perhaps the old adage holds truth: Familiarity breeds contempt. I am still awed and appalled by the complexities of human minds and relationships at this very moment.

I tried to invent more excuses for my "ex-pal": Young age? Inexperienced? Culture? Maybe we should give her some leeway. Allow time for her to grow up? She could be ground and honed with more working experiences and social pressures? It was just an acute situational reaction? Or spate of jealous fits? PMS?....Unfortunately I lack the patience and immense generosity. Which was why I could never excel or have been a psychiatrist. I believe subconsciously that a leopard could never change its spots.

Am I having too high an expectation for my friends? My closest ones are those whom I have known for more than 17 years. Our foundations were built on honesty and simplicity. There is no testing or trial required. I have never had to actively sieve my words to cater to their sensitivities because they understand. Even friendships built in the last one year of my life have withstood the test of time.

Should I offer the other side of my cheek to her then?

My new life have been settled and satisfying so far. And I heralded the new year with a promising and auspicious bash of fireworks. Nothing should sway it towards negativity. I would embrace her with open arms if she would ever need me, but for now, it would be the end of any connection or communication, as swiftly as it had started. I should adhere to my principles.

Nothing would however change my love for Sydney and its romance.