life as a cigarette

have you ever smoked a cigarette? life can be compared to smoking a fresh marbolro light. life starts when the cigarette is lit. as you puff away, look closely at the ashes accumulating at the other end. every time you take a drag, the tobacco lights up in a sudden glow of orange. and you get the nicotine hit, and you feel good. if you don't take a drag, in still burns, slowly, until all the tobacco is gone and it is finished. the ashes buildup and you have to flick it off every now and then, or else a gush of wind will dislodge it and you will get ash all over your clothes. so it is with life. every time you put your life force into a task, there is a moment of brilliance and time passes quickly. if you don't do anything, life still burns away, but slowly, just like time passed in boredom. the ashes are the past, building up in your heart. you have to flick it away every now and then, or else it catches up with you when you're least ready for it, and you get covered in it and make a big mess of things. finally, when you reach the end of a cigarette, you have to put it out and throw it away. there's no use puffing away at the butt, you won't get any enjoyment out of it. in fact, you might get sick from smoking the butt. but don't worry, you can just light a new cigarette.

the starfish story

you come across a man at the beach, picking up the starfishes being left behind by the receding tide, and throwing them back into the waves. he does this for minutes, throwing each red and grey and blue stars back into the retreating water. but for each one he throws back, ten more lay at his feet. you ask him why he is doing this - doesn't he know there are starfishes all along the shoreline, as many as the stars in the sky, and he can never throw them all back into the water. he simply smiles, nods, and bends over to pick up another starfish.

the futility of the task was never the problem for me. for me, the problem was the fact that, come the next low tide, more starfishes will be left to dry out in the sun. it is simply nature's way. there is nothing one man can do to change that. why should a man want to deny what is simply the circle of life? we are born and we will die. it has always been thus. what is that man doing throwing the starfishes back into the ocean? what is he trying to achieve? the amount of time he buys for each of those starfishes are negligible in the grand scheme of things. true, to the starfishes it may mean everything. but to the man? why does he do it? why do we do anything to help other people? we will all die in the end, that is the way it goes.

perhaps he does it not for the starfishes but for himself. maybe it gives him hope. maybe it gives his life purpose. maybe helping other people is one way to help ourselves. i don't know. there are no winners, only losers. there are no happy endings, only tragedies. there are no heroes finding eternal peace, only an ordinary person doing their best and failing, then moving on, to dream another dream, to die another day.

culture shock

just came back from the tsu-ching camp and straight away had a smoke and some coffee. need to prepare myself for the long night ahead finishing off my case commentaries and my presentation. the camp itself was not too bad. not sure what I expected, but definitely i feel slightly satisfied. the organisation appears to be what i've been looking for - the community service bit, and the buddhism bit. but obviously there is a lot more politics behind the scene than i can see, and that's the real test isn't it? whether they are still able to achieve what they set out to achieve, or whether its just another avenue for segregation, a little taiwanese club. nevertheless, i am hopeful. the biggest shock for me is how much of a generation gap i perceive between some of the people in the camp, and me. i mean, you wouldn't think a few years makes that much of a difference, right? but there they were, 16 to 18 year olds, and i share none of their interests and obsessions. perhaps its because they watch taiwanese tv, listen to taiwanese music, and follow taiwanese sport, and i don't. then again, it may just be that i am an boring old fart.

patient stories

i have realised that what i enjoy in clinical practice is the stories of people's lives i meet. that only comes through continuity of care. that is why general practice, oncology and obstetrics appeal to me so much. and that is why surgery, although technically exciting, leave me with a bad taste in my mouth. in general practice, well, in the old days, anyway, your patient's lives become a story that you know. now, with people moving about all the time, this seems to be fading. in oncology, especially in the terminal cases, you can be with them till the end. and as long as you can deal with people dying and futility of your actions, and as long as you enjoy working in a team - you will be okay. in obstetrics - well, that's a no brainer. you follow the patient for about 10 months, and watch their baby grow. and then, sometimes, they have another baby. or five. ahh... the satisfaction of finishing a good book. damn i love a good story. i could never be a vet - i'm scared of animals. jobs dedicated to the creation and accumulation of wealth, ugh! but if i couldn't be a doctor, i think i'd love to be a historian, or a biographer, or a jounalist.

OBGYN: spectator sport

four weeks into obstetrics and gynaecology and i think i am ready to move on. there is so much hope and despair around pregnancies. i am just a spectator and even then sometimes it seems like its too much and i will implode from all these emotions. joy and anxiety, relief and disbelief, fear and resignation. it will be gynaecology next week and i look forward to it. here at last i may find acceptance. simple, pure, logical. death comes to all. it may be a friend in the end. one may grow fond of it, but should never strive for it.