all over red rover

this is the end
my beautiful friend
this is the end
my only friend, the end

of our elaborate plans, the end
of everything that stands, the end
no safety or surprise, the end
i'll never look into your eyes again

it hurts to set you free
but you'll never follow me
the end of laughter and soft lies
the end of nights we tried to die
- the doors

six years of pleasure and pain drew to a close in thirty-six hours of hypomanic frenzy. bedford's for seven hours. poker and games at pete and jim's until five-thirty am. four hours sleep before fifty balls at the driving range. the rainbow-coloured blur of faces and dresses at mallory-weiss. sorry sis i didn't get your missed call until 12:30am. i must've fallen asleep... excessive amounts of alcohol can do that to you. which songs did you sing?

it's over. soon we will wander down new trails and tackle new challenges. but that time is not yet. now is the time for rest.

4 monkeys

a heart filled with bitterness leaves no room for beauty. beauty chanced upon me, but my soul was filled with sorrow and scorn. it found no rest upon my furrowed brow and heavy sighs. because i was unwilling to let go of my doubt, i was blinded by beauty, and it passed me by.

stop looking for faults in others. look for love.
stop looking for excuses. focus on the solution.
stop dwelling on my faults. remember the gifts i have been given.

oh, when will you come to me? i will walk within my house with a perfect heart. i will set nothing wicked before my eyes - psalms 101

run away while you still can

wednesday: worked on yearbook unti 11:30pm.
thursday: worked on yearbook until 2am.
friday: worked on yearbook until 4am.
saturday: work on yearbook through the night (no sleep).
sunday: after 5.5 hours printing proofs, pass out at 6pm.
monday: ward rounds at 7am. full day at uni. will be working on yearbook tonight. again.
the feeling when we get the yearbooks off to the printers and can finally STUDY: priceless.

yes, when studying seems like a reward, you know you're losing the plot. but that's the way it goes... exams are less than two weeks around the corner. and looking at the chaos that enveloped the ward this morning when the new interns started on the job (one even had a cheat sheet about bowel anatomy), i know january 16 next year will be a day of sheer panic. one patient in outpatients this afternoon asked me "are you sure you still want to do this job?" after she finished crying about her bowel problems. i said, "maybe i'll become a writer". yeah, right, maybe i still have time to quit med and run away from next year.

and the feeling i'll get when i finally get a copy of the yearbook in my hands? it's called an anti-climax.

a patch of green

come on baby blue
shake up your tired eyes
the world is waiting for you
may all your dreaming fill the empty sky

but if it makes you happy
keep on clapping
just remember i'll be by your side
and if you only go, it's gonna pass you by
- oasis

there is a patch of green in my backyard. it suddenly appeared over a week or two, with the warm breezes and the dusty rain telling me it's spring. there are the large hands of the potato leaves, the grasses waving their arms towards the sky, and the very first flower of spring, a little yellow thing, daring to stand out against the sea of greenness.

we are all waiting. the end is coming. i am excited and scared. it'll be alright, i tell myself. just look at the patch of green. they are oblivious to what is happening to me. they only grow, as is in their nature, and everything else is not their fault.

this dying business, part three

Later on that morning, after the consultant ward round, while I’m waiting for my new friend Mohammed to organise my discharge paperwork, an eager and very pretty fourth year med student found me. The lucky girl got her long case in half an hour. I even helped her with the lymph node examinations. I wonder if it’s unethical for a patient to ask their medical student out. What am I thinking – of course it’s unethical!

I ask her (nicely) to get my file so we could read it together. Mohammed’s writing is terrible. There is nothing to see on my X-ray but I get Sarah (the medical student) to talk me through it anyway, just for practice. She is better than I was when I was in fourth year, that’s for sure. Before she leaves she asks me a few interesting questions.

‘Is it weird being a patient?’

‘Yeah. Although, they treat me a bit better because I’m supposed to be on their side. But no one tells you anything. The nurses have no idea what’s going on. The residents have no idea either, unless they read my file. The reg is nice but I hardly see him. And the consultants have even less time. You lose all your privacy. You can’t sleep properly at night. And the food is bad.’

‘What does it feel like being diagnosed with cancer?’

‘It’s really strange. For a while it was like, no way! I was supposed to be finishing med school and doing my internship this year. But then the shock kinda hit me about half way through my first consultation, and I didn’t really hear what else the doctor told me after that. They booked me in for chemo and all that, but I just kinda went along with it. I didn’t even though if I wanted chemo. Hadn’t thought about it at all.’

‘What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you want to have chemo?’

‘Well… I don’t know. People always assume you want to live. I wasn’t sure about that. I mean, living is such a chore, sometimes. But I was like, okay, I have cancer. What the fuck do I do now?

‘But it forces you to re-think everything. I mean, you know how you have to get up by a certain time because you had to come into the hospital by a certain time and sit through tutes you didn’t want to go to because you are afraid you might miss something? Or you watch a movie or go out with your friends and you feel guilty because you should be studying?

‘Well, all of a sudden I didn’t have to worry about any of that any more. I didn’t have to worry about passing exams and moving house. I didn’t have to worry about eating bad food and losing weight and quitting smoking. I could read whatever I wanted, and watch movies or play computer games all day long. It was great. I might die! I might only have a few months or years left! What am I going to do with the time I have left? What do I really want to do right now?

‘And I found I was noticing things more: the colours, the feeling of the sun on your face and arms; the sound of trees swaying in the wind; the people around me, strangers and friends, the colours of the clothes they were wearing, their body language; the smell of food and perfume; music! It was absolutely fantastic!

‘I didn’t think I was going to miss anyone. I mean, other people might miss me, but dying is a very personal thing. It’s the only time when I feel that my time truly belongs to me. I’ve never seen death as a bad thing. Yeah, I know I’m weird.’

‘But you are having chemo now?’

‘Yeah, eventually I came around. My parents and my friends made me go along with it. I was already booked in for the day centre anyway. And, I mean, I know the survival rate of Hodgkin’s is pretty good with chemo. It’d be a bit silly not to give it a go, really. I think I was just toying around with the idea of dying. I didn’t really want my mum to feel sad!

‘But this experience has definitely been a positive one. I know what it’s like being a patient now. I know how much it sucks being in a public hospital. I know what it feels like to be told bad news, not just to tell it. And it’s changed the way I see things and live my life. It’s like I’ve only just started to live.

‘This dying business, you should try it sometime.’

I grinned and winked. I think she thought I was crazy and made a hasty retreat. Ah well, ethical dilemma resolved!