Just under two years ago, my family was changed radically.  It was strange, probably because you don’t really don’t expect the big things in life to ever change.  My parents were fighting a lot, and I was preparing to leave home.  My sister had been saying for months and months that she was going overseas, but there was never any money, so nobody expected it to happen.

In October, she announced that she had the money and was heading over to the UK.  By that time, I’d found an appartment with an old school friend, and was planning on moving in over the next week.  My parents had a bit of money, and decided they wanted to downsize but upgrade where they were living, so they found a nice apartment on a small island and moved in around the time I moved into my new apartment.  In the process, we had to get rid of the family dog, who was a pain in the arse but we loved him anyway.

In the space of a few weeks, the family we knew was gone.

Time marched on, as it does, and everyone pretty-much settled into their new lives.  My parents figured out how to be happy, and so I started spending more time with them.  Now two years later, my sister is coming home.

My sister and I were friends when we were little kids, pretty much hated each other when we were teenagers, and became close again as we got older.  So I guess It’s a little exciting now to know that she’ll be back home in 4 short weeks.  I’m eager to show her around my new life.

Looks like the old family will be back together again….it will be interesting to see how it all plays out!

 

Cheers,

Doctor007.

The Aussie girls have been dominating the Ausse men in the pool this olympics, and today was no exception.  The Australians took out the Women’s 400m Relay today, with China and the USA coming in second and third respectively.

Not only did they take out the gold, the Aussies finished with a time of 7:44:31…smashing the world record held by the United States by just under 6 seconds!  The Americans have held the world record since March 07 in Melbourne.

American swimmer Michael Phelps has well and truly dominated the pool in the first 6 days of the olympics, with 5 gold medals already to his name.  A new generation of swimmers has hit the pool, and they’re smashing records like no tomorrow.

One thing’s for sure - there’s a lot more gold out there to be found!

 

Doctor007.

 

G = Gold
S = Silver
B = Bronze
T = Total

For full results listings, go to http://en.beijing2008.cn/

 

I’m not sure why I love the olympic games as much as I do.  I’m not particularly sporty at any other stage of the year, but there’s something about these games that has me glued to the television, internet, and newspapers constantly, putting on hold almost everything else that’s going on in my life.

It’s probably the amazing strength and discipline it takes some of the athletes to become as great as they are, and for them to put it all on the line in what is such a brief opportunity to prove themselves - well, it’s admirable, to me. 

That, and it’s a great excuse to drink beer and yell at the TV.

Oh!  And by the way - I passed my first semester of medical school!  Just barely, but a pass is a pass.  As one of my mates said (with hands on hips, chest puffed out, and a meaningful gaze into the distance): I am one-eighth doctor.

 

Cheers,
Doctor007.

(Congrats, Leisel!)

 

Hey there, how you doin?  It’s been a while, huh?  I don’t think I’ve blogged in well over a month.  It’s not like nothing interesting has happened, but I just haven’t felt the urge to write here.

Why?  I dunno.  Your guess is as good as mine.

I guess I’ll be back when I feel like writing again.  I’m feeling pretty good these days….hopefully that doesn’t mean I’ve lost the desire to write stuff!

 

Check back occasionally, won’t you?

 

Doctor007.

 

You know how some people separate work into physically demanding and mentally demanding?  Sure you do - everyone does it, including me. 

Today was my very first medical exam, and afterward I just felt tired.  Okay, a little happier for having it out of the way, but mostly just tired.  All that work culminating in a 3 hour exam, of which I only endured 2 and a bit hours.

It was a homeostasis exam, which by definition (well, not so much definition as vibe) is a mish-mash of stuff.  Mostly, I was happy with what the examined us on.  I say mostly, because I was not a fan of all the muscle physiology questions, and the law questions seemed extremely similar to the ones preceding it.  Nevertheless, I’m done with homeostasis.  Now where’s that list?  Tick.

The next block exam is tomorrow morning at 9:30.  This one is going to be a little more of a challenge to me, I think.  At least the immunology stuff.  It’s all just B and T cells and a whole shit-storm of cytokines.

Yay.

Will let you know how it goes, the two or three of you that read this

 

Cheers,

Doctor007.

 

Somehow I found myself in a house of mirrors.

There are mirrors up high, and mirrors down low.  My reflection is distorted in all of them.  I know that I am here, complete and normal.  But there is no mirror here that will reflect me as such. 

I made a mistake - a wrong turn, maybe - and now I can’t seem to find my way out of the house of mirrors.  Luckily, someone is going to help me find my way out.  Until then, I guess I have to get used to seeing myself differently.

Oh well.  I’m sure the exit’s just around the corner.  I’ll see you when I get out.

 

Doctor007.

 

After waking up at precisely the same time that my community placement started today, I made my way to the headquarters of the organisation and met with the nurse that would be taking me on her house calls for the day.  Because I arrived late (and without the evaluation form that I was supposed to take), she had already made the trip to the first patient, who - luckily - lives locally.  He was a 20 year old quadruplegic who had suffered a C-spine injury while surfing 3 years ago.

I was glad I missed it.

John*, 93 year old diabetic.  We arrived to his house in a surrounding suburb.  The doors to his place were completely open, and we could hear him having a shower.  The house was small but clean.  While we waited, Ellen* - the nurse - told me John’s story.  He had married three times, and his last wife was a Japanese woman who had discovered she had cancer several years ago.  John, though much older, had cared for her until she decided to travel back to Japan so she could die with her family around.  Now a widower, John has his son who comes to visit once a week.  We checked John’s blood sugar level, which was good.  Apparently, this was a surprise as the man controlled his disease poorly.  Ecstatic at the news, John proclaimed his diabetes ‘cured’.  Ellen and I tried to reason with him, but not even our yelling could be heard by the deaf man.

 Elaine*, 73 years old, glioblastoma.  We were greeted by Elaine’s best friend, who had come from interstate to care for her.  She explained that Elaine had just finished the last of her 50 rounds of chemotherapy and radiation therapy yesterday.  It was going to be a 6 week wait until the doctor knew if the radiation had been effective.  Elaine’s cancer might have been eating up the cells that supported her neurons, but she was still sharp, and refused to move interstate to live with her friend, who had to leave because even though she loved Elaine - three months away from her husband and kids was too much.  The women cried, and I could only sit there and try not to watch.  Elaine was upset because her brother’s diamond anniversary was coming up, and she wasn’t going to make it.  We talked about sudoku, the colour of yak’s milk (pink, which I knew thanks to a recent game of Trivial Pursuit), and why palliative care hadn’t organised a toilet seat for her.

Pauline*, 53 years old, lung cancer spread to brain.  Pauline was rake thin, bald, and still smoked an unbelievable 130 cigarettes a day.  We sat with her as she talked about her increasing nausea, and that she’d eaten only soup and pineapple the whole week.  She was running out of pain medication, which wasn’t covering the pain anyway.  Her parents had died of lung cancer, and her cousin.  Pauline’s 29 year old son also smoked 100 cigarettes a day.  She sat on a sagging couch that smelled of tobacco and told us that she was going to beat the cancer.  Ellen smiled with her lips, but later, when we’d walked to the car, told Pauline’s sister that there wasn’t any hope for Pauline, and that it wouldn’t be long now.

David*, 58 years old, lung cancer spread to liver.  We used a key to get into David’s house because he was on 24 hour oxygen and walking to the door was too much for him to handle.  He lay in a hospital bed out in the garage, with the oxygen tank hissing.  There was an Australian flag above his bed, a Victa lawn mower stored next to the oxygen, and three barbecues out in the backyard.  David’s wife worked full-time, so he was left to fend for himself most days.  because walking up the stairs to the shower was impossible, David had constructed a collapsable perspex shower so he could wash himself with an extension hose from the laundry sink.  While he lay in bed, Ellen told him of a program where volunteers could stop by and spend a few hours with him so he could have someone to talk to and make him a cup of tea.  He seemed like the kind of man to balk at suggestion like that, but after a brief pause he said that it would be nice.  He didn’t look at us as he said it, and I wondered how much pride he’d had to sacrifice in order to just keep going.

It’s one thing to see palliative patients in the nursing home.  They might have names, but they’re just another sick person in a bed.  It’s different to see them within their four walls.

It was a really insightful day, and I’m glad I got to ride with the nurse who looked after my grandfather when he was dying.

 

 * Names have been changed for all the usual reasons.

Doctor007.

 

Tonight - like so many nights past - I’m at the main university campus trying to study.  Because the medical school, which is separate from the main campus, doesn’t have 24-hour computer labs, I’m forced to come back here to study.  It’s nice to be here, because I spent the three years of my undergrad in this room, but it’s just not the same anymore.

I’ve been standing outside in the place where we used to take breaks, having a cigarette or drinking coffee from a thermos lid, heating cans of soup on car engines, or playing insane games of frisbee in the cramped loading zone, but I’ve been standing there alone.
Zac, Dea and Gary have gone.  Everyone who used to spend their lives here with us are gone, too.  The computer lab which used to be resolutely biomed has been inherited by the ubiquitous business student.  I don’t recognise anyone here anymore.

I’m the last man standing, because everyone else has moved on, or moved overseas.  There’s a new group of people - those I study with over at the medical school, and those that I don’t even recognise, but it’s different.  This is not my home anymore; this place is somewhere I come to study now.  There isn’t the large (and sometimes loud) group of friends here with me anymore, frantically quizzing each other, or sharing food and Red Bull, or sleeping uncomfortably across two chairs.  There isn’t the proprietorial spread of highlighters, whiteboard markers and iPods taking up every spare inch of desk like there used to be. 

I wonder what will happen come exam time.  Will there be something that vaguely resembles the exam periods of the last three years? 

I hope so, but I know that good things don’t always last, and trying to recreate the good times is always bittersweet.  I’m happy to accept that times change, but sometimes it would be nice if they didn’t.  Evenso, something even better might be just around the corner.

 

Doctor007

Latin: (shortness) of space or time.

Hey everyone, I’ll be brief.

I know it’s been a little while since I posted here, and that’s due in part because nothing has really inspired me lately.  When it does, you’ll know about it.  For now, though, I thought I’d just let you know things are stable and well, and that may in itself be the reason I don’t feel the need to blog.
Keep checking back, I’m sure I’ll be back and blogging soon.

Cheers,

Doctor007.