is this art? (a room full of purple balloons and screaming teenagers)
what about this? (a couple of groovy slides and a bunch of kids aged ~ 6 to 60)
or this? (cooperative lego architecture)
24.3.11
10.3.11
refrain
the phone going off at 3:30pm on that fateful afternoon and recognising laila voice over the airwaves was possibly one of the most dreadful moments of my life. surely it was all over. but to my great surprise, she didnt have bad news for me.
i think i was in shock for the rest of the day. i trudged dutifully to the belgian beer garden, but i really didnt feel like going. i convinced myself that i should do the expected thing, join in the backslapping and cheerful false modesty as everyone breathed a big communal sigh of relief. it was horrible. i left without saying goodbye, which i guess was nothing out of the ordinary for me. instead of a weight being lifted off my shoulder, i think i just felt confused. what do i do now?
this is such a ridiculous state of affairs. how did i find myself in this situation? i mean, its not like im not glad that i passed. on the contrary, im not sure i could have gone through another twelve months of this without some sort of permanent brain damage. but for some reason i feel guilty. the voice in my head is incessant: "i didnt deserve to pass", " i still dont know anything", "i should keep studying"... before the exam it was procrastination; now its denial. its ironic and its sad.
sometimes i really dont know whether to laugh or cry at my useless ego.
1.3.11
hiatus
so i have dedicated most of the last twelve months of my life this this thing.
and now finally the day has come and gone.
there is some regret. i gave it a shot. i really did. i could have done a bit more, probably. especially the last three months. that didnt really go very well. it couldve made all the difference. maybe. but its done. theres nothing more to do, but wait...
there is a lot of relief. "at least its over!" the little voice in my brain shouts! but almost before that thought can form another pops up next to it: "at least for a little while. i mean, you dont know if it is over for good. and you know, deep inside you doubt yourself, you suspect that you will have to do it again. you know you have to do it again." oh but i dont want to think about that right now.
now is time to rest. clean up my room. put my affairs in order. categorise and cleanse and recharge my batteries. the next challenge may be just around corner.
and now finally the day has come and gone.
there is some regret. i gave it a shot. i really did. i could have done a bit more, probably. especially the last three months. that didnt really go very well. it couldve made all the difference. maybe. but its done. theres nothing more to do, but wait...
there is a lot of relief. "at least its over!" the little voice in my brain shouts! but almost before that thought can form another pops up next to it: "at least for a little while. i mean, you dont know if it is over for good. and you know, deep inside you doubt yourself, you suspect that you will have to do it again. you know you have to do it again." oh but i dont want to think about that right now.
now is time to rest. clean up my room. put my affairs in order. categorise and cleanse and recharge my batteries. the next challenge may be just around corner.
9.10.10
day dream weekend
instead of studying im thinking about my ideal weekend. this probably has something to do with the beautiful spring day outside and the impending 13.5 hour cover shift tomorrow. sigh...
waking up naturally (no alarm clock!) in the cozy hole ive made for myself in the doona. only my head is sticking out in the cool morning air. its still mostly dark outside, with only a slightest hint of dawn poking through the curtains. the window is open and i can smell the trees.
a quick coffee before i head out the door. its getting brighter as i hit the trail. an invigorating walk through the forest before making it home for a cooked breakfast of scrambled eggs, mushrooms, spinach and hash browns. more coffee. lounge about reading the paper, guilt free, with nothing else to do before lunch. ahh... i might even do some laundry!
head out to meet friends for lunch. vietnamese? japanese? chinese? indonesian? i don't really care as long as there is plenty of room for the gang to huddle and not too loud so we can all hear each other. what's been happening in everyone's lives? more of the same. bitch about work. we love it.
wander through an art gallery or maybe head over to someones house to play board games (or even a quick LAN battle). fire up the barbeque, crank up the music and down a few beers around dusk. theres not much to say. we all slouch down and watch the sunset. there is nowhere else we'd rather be.
waking up naturally (no alarm clock!) in the cozy hole ive made for myself in the doona. only my head is sticking out in the cool morning air. its still mostly dark outside, with only a slightest hint of dawn poking through the curtains. the window is open and i can smell the trees.
a quick coffee before i head out the door. its getting brighter as i hit the trail. an invigorating walk through the forest before making it home for a cooked breakfast of scrambled eggs, mushrooms, spinach and hash browns. more coffee. lounge about reading the paper, guilt free, with nothing else to do before lunch. ahh... i might even do some laundry!
head out to meet friends for lunch. vietnamese? japanese? chinese? indonesian? i don't really care as long as there is plenty of room for the gang to huddle and not too loud so we can all hear each other. what's been happening in everyone's lives? more of the same. bitch about work. we love it.
wander through an art gallery or maybe head over to someones house to play board games (or even a quick LAN battle). fire up the barbeque, crank up the music and down a few beers around dusk. theres not much to say. we all slouch down and watch the sunset. there is nowhere else we'd rather be.
25.9.10
duty of care
just because its possible doesnt mean its right.
a young man with muscular dystrophy and end stage heart failure represents to his hospital the day after his discharge with not much objective signs of decompensation but subjectively he feels worse. he doesnt diurese much despite intravenous frusemide so he was transferred 400kms back to us. we restart him on inotropes but his systolic blood pressure hovers between 70 and 80. he is wheelchair based and requires a hoist for transfers. his brother had worse heart failure but better skeletal muscle function and received a heart transplantation. all he wants to do is make it to his sisters wedding in 3 weeks' time. but we dont think hes going to be there. transplantation would be futile.
another man referred to us with (recreational) drug-induced cardiomyopathy presents with pneumonia exacerbating his underlying heart failure. he was initially drowsy and rousable only to pain and needed non-invasive ventilation. after antibiotics and diuresis he has now woken up and is demanding benzodiazepines for his panic attacks and drug withdrawal. he threatens to discharge himself against medical advice. the nurses ask me: would that be such a bad thing? he'll never be transplanted.
he is a father of an seventeen year old boy currently doing vce. his son thinks he is lazy but really he has an ejection fraction of 16% and still tries to work full time to support his family. he thinks all he needs to do is "get fit" but feels tired and breathless all the time. i presented him for transplantation and the cardiologists and surgeons in the audience approved him for listing but still i dont know if he understands what he needs and what is ahead of him.
what is informed consent? should we let some people die because they dont know whats best for them? should we let some people waste a heart (or any other organ for that matter) that could benefit another simply to prevent their death? its hard not to be paternalistic. maybe its even right to be paternalistic. after all, what do the masses know? nothing. and what do i know? the futility of the whole thing.
a young man with muscular dystrophy and end stage heart failure represents to his hospital the day after his discharge with not much objective signs of decompensation but subjectively he feels worse. he doesnt diurese much despite intravenous frusemide so he was transferred 400kms back to us. we restart him on inotropes but his systolic blood pressure hovers between 70 and 80. he is wheelchair based and requires a hoist for transfers. his brother had worse heart failure but better skeletal muscle function and received a heart transplantation. all he wants to do is make it to his sisters wedding in 3 weeks' time. but we dont think hes going to be there. transplantation would be futile.
another man referred to us with (recreational) drug-induced cardiomyopathy presents with pneumonia exacerbating his underlying heart failure. he was initially drowsy and rousable only to pain and needed non-invasive ventilation. after antibiotics and diuresis he has now woken up and is demanding benzodiazepines for his panic attacks and drug withdrawal. he threatens to discharge himself against medical advice. the nurses ask me: would that be such a bad thing? he'll never be transplanted.
he is a father of an seventeen year old boy currently doing vce. his son thinks he is lazy but really he has an ejection fraction of 16% and still tries to work full time to support his family. he thinks all he needs to do is "get fit" but feels tired and breathless all the time. i presented him for transplantation and the cardiologists and surgeons in the audience approved him for listing but still i dont know if he understands what he needs and what is ahead of him.
what is informed consent? should we let some people die because they dont know whats best for them? should we let some people waste a heart (or any other organ for that matter) that could benefit another simply to prevent their death? its hard not to be paternalistic. maybe its even right to be paternalistic. after all, what do the masses know? nothing. and what do i know? the futility of the whole thing.
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