Thoughts On: Challenges

"Some mountains in life are easier to climb than others.

But you are stronger than you know. You can do this.

And if you fall, rise again. Try again. Climb again.

Listen not to the widespread taunts that daringly pronounce what you cannot do, but rather to the soft chorus of faithful supporters, and to the increasingly fierce whisper of your heart that knows the truth 

- you've beaten mountains before. And you can do it again."

...

"Do you know how blessed you are that such are the mountains in your life?"

See The Goodness

There's always some good to be found in every circumstance. 

I really believe this, even if not at the time something isn't going the way I wanted it to.

A few days ago, I shut my front door at home before I realised that I didn't have my keys with me. Yep. Locked out my own house with no one else at home, and a million things I wanted to do on my precious off day.

😩

Megan was in college in the city and Krispy worked nearby, but she wasn't replying and I wasn't sure where.

So I decided to go get my groceries as planned and wait for a reply.

No reply. I've got my groceries, and at this point, I really wanted to just go home, bake Bailey's birthday cupcakes, clean the house, do some reading and finish some way overdue paperwork.

So I decided to ask Megan where Krispy work, stalk her Facebook to make sure it's right, drive there and hopefully just ask for her at reception without embarrassing my housemate at her workplace.

Right after I reached, Krispy texted and yay of all yays, she's happy and free to pass me her keys. I met her at Gloria Jeans and turns out, she had just started her thirty minute break. With her house keys in my hand I thought.. "Oh, then I might as well catch up with you then!" Because I'd been on a trip recently and have been working rurally. I haven't had much chance to see my housemates these past few weeks.

And we ended up having a good heart to heart over coffee.

How blessed I was to have locked myself out that day. :)

I love this verse:
"You intended it for evil, but God intended it for good."
- Genesis 50:20

It's so easy to get a bad attitude in life when things don't go our way (and I know I'll have to eat these words again one day).
It's so easy to grumble and pout and rant and forget all the goodness we have in our lives when something gets thrown a little off balance, but as I've learnt.. there's always something good to come out of every circumstance, there's always a new lesson waiting to be learnt.

I've had sickness thrown my way unexpectedly before - but that taught me to place my trust in God, it taught me how vulnerable patients felt, it brought my family closer and reminded me how loved I was.

I've had my heart broken before - but that led me to where I am now, taught me not to let fear hold me back from life and to forgive,  gave me good memories nonetheless and helped me grow up in understanding life and people a bit better.

I've done badly on exams and disappointed others and myself before - but that challenged me deep in my spirit as to why I do what I do and reminded me that patients deserve better.

I've had my car broken into this year - but I pray my Bible and journal went to good use. I learnt to be more careful with my things, that there were people in my life who cared so much that they would care for me past midnight to help me sort things out, that God comforts even in the most painful circumstances and that once again, His peace is incredibly real.

I've found out that I've been cheated before - that my old car was a repaired write off that was sold to me for more than it was worth, but I encountered such lovely, compassionate people who tried their best to minimise my losses, and ended up disposing of a car that was probably not the safest to be on the road anymore anyways.

Crap happens. And it hurts, no doubt. 
But if you lean in close, look real hard, and wait just a moment longer sometimes, you'll see the goodness.
Trust me. 

It's there. It's always there, just waiting to be found.

"You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us."
- Beautiful Things, Michael and Lisa Gungor

"He makes everything beautiful in its own time."
- Ecclesiastes 3:11

A Little Kindness Goes A Long Way

I had been planning my trip to Canberra for a while now, and had decided that after work finished at 5pm, I would quickly go home, finish packing, shower, and then drive to the train station to catch a 630pm train that would reach Southern Cross at 8pm, leaving me plenty of time before my 10pm bus.

A fellow senior doctor at work (who I knew very briefly) overheard my plans, and in her Malaysian accent goes, "Are you crazy?? I'll drive you la! I'm heading that way anyways."

"Are you sure?"
"YES I'm sure."
"Well, thank you then! :D "

And then after I've gotten ready to leave after work she asks me what my plans were between now and my bus. And I said... "Eat, sit, read..?"

"That's it. You're coming and having dinner with me and my boyfriend."

Long story short, that night I had an incredibly nice spontaneous home-cooked meal with one of the most hospitable couples I have ever met. Despite the age difference and seniority in their careers too, they both welcomed me so generously, talked with me about life, shared their stories and listened to mine, and fed me delicious sausage curry as well.

And when it came time for me to start heading to Southern Cross, Michelle decides to start walking with me to the train station, taps on her myki and insisted then that the both of them would follow me to the bus stop at Southern Cross.

"Guys! I'll be fine!! I promise I'll be okay!"
"No. We have to answer to your mother to make sure you reach safely."
"You really don't have to!"

"Aww doesn't this feel like we're sending our child off to college?" 

....

A little kindness really does go a long, long way. 

The both of them really did not have to spend their precious Thursday evening with me but they decided to, and went far, far out of their way for my sake. I feel incredibly blessed, and moved to continue this journey of kindness, to pass it on and pay it forwards.

"Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness - kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile."
- Mother Teresa

Papa Will Know

If I wasn't scared as I drove to work with the red radiator light warning me, I was definitely scared when I noticed smoke coming out from my hood at the traffic light.

I started praying in the car that I would be able to make it to the car park without my car breaking down, and thankfully, I did.

I texted my dad as I rushed into the hospital because I knew that he would know what to do.
True enough, he ended up texting me for a large portion of today to tell me the things that I needed to do and to watch out for, and explained the instructions step by step to me.

Now, please note, I am not a car person. I do not speak car. What even does the radiator do??

I spent most of today being so stressed out about my car and filled with a fear that it would break down on the way home. Come 6pm, I was on the rooftop car park with my 1000mL sterile bottle of water (intended for parenteral use heh) and the hood of my car up. I got a few stares, but just as daddy instructed, I managed to fill my radiator and the reservoir with water - and eventually made it home safely with no further issues. I have no words for how grateful I was to be able to call my dad for help in my time of need.

...

I learnt a powerful lesson today though, one that was amplified in my spirit as I drove home in complete peace.

"Papa would know what to do."

How often do we go through circumstances in life that overwhelm us, that seem to be way, way out of our league?
How often do we feel completely beyond inadequate to face the challenge before us?
How often do we choose panic and fear as our response?
How often do we reach the point of wanting to give up because we simply do not know how to solve the problem?

Today, I was reminded that I can call on my Father any time, with any problem, and He will always know how to solve it. I also realised that His Presence that guided me through present circumstances brought with it a strong, special sense of peace that surpassed all understanding. I learnt that I had no reason to be afraid, because God is with me at all times.  :) He is only a prayer away.

Papa will know. 
Stop listening to the fear, and choose instead to listen to His perfect instructions. 

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous, for I, the Lord your God, am with you wherever you go."
- Joshua 1:9

Soul Food

"Listen my beloved brethren: Has God not chosen the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which He promised to those who love Him?"
- James 2:5

A reminder to remove prejudice from our lenses and begin to see, to really see the beauty in our humanity.

A Bit About Love

"Love is patient, love is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails."
- 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

...

He walked up to the desk in the ward and spoke to the first person at the desk who would give him any attention. In his hands were a basket of chocolates and a piece of paper. He was redirected to the nurse in charge, who subsequently redirected him to me.

"I just wanted to thank you for taking care of my wife. You know, we've been married for sixty years now, and I've been caring for her blood sugars for the past seven years. But sometimes, I'm not able to and I need you guys to help me. I really can't be without my wife you know, so thank you. She was in so much pain, and you can't imagine what it was like watching that. She's doing so much better now!

Thank you for giving my love a second chance."

...

I've been learning a bit about love lately.

I see it in its purest forms every single day at work - the teary wife stroking her husband's hair after he's just passed away, the daughter who comes in with lemons and honey to make her bedbound mother a special drink every day, the son who requests updates several times a day because he's concerned, the parent holding their sick child's hand by the bedside, the echo of sobs when someone loved has passed away, or the husband with his arms wrapped around his frail wife as they walked.

Maybe it's something about sickness and suffering that causes us to realize what truly matters most in life.
Maybe it's through the storms that we learn to love even better, and through sacrifice that love is made perfect in us.

From my inconspicuous position in the corner with a red folder in one hand and pen in the other, or on a wheelie chair behind a computer facing the ward - I see this every day, and am constantly humbled by the human ability to love so well.

Love, as I've learnt.. is incredibly courageous and gutsy. It chooses to believe in the best but is also prepared for the worst case scenario. It opens its arms to the possibility of overwhelming heartbreak because the alternative is simply not worth it - to live completely guarded without risk or vulnerability, to refrain from any semblance of attachment in constant fear of getting hurt.

Love, is Aunty C holding her husband's hand and saying to us - "We're ready for whatever comes."
Love is knowing that when daybreak comes and he's lying in bed too weak to eat, that she would still be there by his side.

Love is selfless, placing the needs of another person before our own. I see it in the sister who would offer her bone marrow without any care or question of the consequences to herself as long as it meant saving her sister's life.

Love is forgiveness, a choice to prefer one another over past hurts and pride. I've seen the heartwarming stuff in hospitals, but I've also witnessed the ones who pass away with no next of kin, no tears by the bedside, and no one to collect the body. I've learnt that pride can keep you company for a day.. but when all is said and done, it's not pride you want with you at the end of your life, it's the people you love. From this, I am learning to be more generous with the "I forgive you's", to make things right when I am in the wrong, to not hold back the "I love you's", and to constantly choose to have a positive voice in a negative generation.

Love.. invites joy and goodness into the darkest of places and makes life so extremely precious, it is an astounding resilience that refuses to be defeated. I see it in the giggles of a bald child undergoing chemotherapy as a result of their parents tickles, I see it in the eyes of a loving wife as her husband became strong enough to squeeze her hand back after a massive stroke, I see it in the gratefulness that is birthed when we realize our time is finite.


Love is so many precious things, and I am ever so thankful to be taught this lesson over and over again, every day, .. to treasure it well while we still can.

Thoughts On: Dignity

"That is not just a patient with delirium and pneumonia. 
That is a person." 

Perhaps the most confronting and eye-opening advice I have received since I started my geriatrics placement came from the senior doctor of a different team about one of our patients.

Because as much as I hate to admit it.. we do forget that sometimes. 

In All Its Fullness

On my drive home yesterday from work, the sun was setting on my left, leaving a beautiful orange flame around it that faded into pink rays.
It was also pouring - my vision obscured by droplets, fog and the windscreen wiper doing its job. The clouds beyond the pink were a gloomy grey, taking up most of the sky.
And then I looked to my right, and saw a rainbow, just hiding in the other corner.

I kid you not.

I started to ponder on the day I had, the conversation outside the ward that I carried with Aunty C (note previous post) who was delighted to see me again. She told me about her life, about her husband's life, how they've moved across countries, how they've fought cancer, how he's losing so much strength now in the last few days of his life.

I suppose, I felt then ever so thankful that I have some semblance of conversational ability in Cantonese.
And yet, for me, someone who gives and receives love and expresses myself best through words, I was extremely frustrated with the restricted vocabulary that I had.

There was so much that I thought that I wanted to say to comfort this woman who is about to lose everything she holds dear.. but as I type this now, I realise, that maybe in situations like these, there are just no words.

She lovingly smiled at me, with a look of resilient grace - proof that she has experienced absolute hell and made a decision to still capture whatever little seeds of joy came her way. She held on to my arm and thanked me for everything, and walked on back to the battles she had to keep facing on her own.

...

How can one dusk contain so much existence? 
How can one soul contain so much emotion? 

...

I tried to examine what it was that I felt from the whole experience, and just in life now in general.

I feel.. frustrated, that I can only do so much for other people. I feel a desire to go beyond the responsibilities dictated by my job. I feel compassion, a burden in my heart when I have to watch others suffer. I feel fearful of the pain and the grief that will strike hot when the worst happens. I feel honoured that the little child in me has somehow grown to become a doctor who can stand with people in their most vulnerable moments. I feel grateful for the people I could speak to in the moments where my heart was so heavy, people who understood, or people who just reminded me of goodness once again. I feel sad that my job predisposes me to have to face so much death and dying. I feel strengthened, that I am learning so much in this season. I feel encouraged to keep striving to be the best doctor I can be. I am joyful, that love still wins every time, even when circumstances fail us.

I feel blessed that I get to do life with a God that walks me through every hurt, every disappointment, every tear.. and reminds me that there is so much more in life than this, and to make it count.

Like that dusk, now permanently ingrained in my mind - elements of joy, goodness, gentlesness, sadness, fear, hopelessness, desperation all in one sunset, and in that far corner - a hope, that tomorrow will be better. In its wholeness, it was absolutely beautiful.

To feel, is a uniquely human experience to me.
Not that I particularly have much experience being anything but human.

And in the midst of all those emotions, I was thankful to feel so alive, to know that with each breath I am really living, that every experience and every heartbreak will make my heart stronger, yet softer altogether. 

A Call To Love

This week, I was asked to translate for an elderly patient under the Haematology team. Their registrar on my ward had approached me (because of my Asian-ness) and asked if I spoke any Cantonese at all.

Now, when I get asked these things, I usually try not to offer and find someone else instead because my Cantonese/Mandarin is so poor, not to mention the numerous interesting accounts of my translation failures that mockingly invite me to try again.

My favourite epic fail story has got to be the time I attempted to translate:
"So tomorrow, you'll have a CT cholangiogram to check if there are any obstructing stones in your common bile duct post cholecystectomy because they couldn't do an intra-operative one."

It ended up being translated to something along the lines of:
"So.. tomorrow.. CT, you know what CT is? YA so CT, to see.. if anything inside. Ok bye."

This time though, the team was pretty desperate, so I agreed to help. I felt bad that I didn't remember much of the appropriate Cantonese greetings and honorifics and was worried that I was coming across as rude in how I addressed the patient. Still, I could understand most of what he was trying to relay, and could be a bridge of some sort in the midst of what this man was going through.

I did get stuck at "fat yim" though, which mum later told me meant infection.

And then today, I met his wife as well, who I could converse with a bit better, because she understood my shortcomings and spoke slowly with much expressive hand gestures and kept encouraging me to just try my best. She was grateful to have some form of communication with the staff at least, and would bow repeatedly to say thank you. This felt really wrong for me because she was an elder to me, and this really was just a small favour.

Sadly though, I later found out that this man was gravely ill, and not likely to survive much longer.

...

"To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I couldn't help but think that all the steps I had ever taken in my life led up to those ones where I stood before a desperate couple, and that perhaps it was part of my calling in life to help them in that moment where our paths collided.

I think that too often we look at the idea of "calling", especially in our theology and Christianese, as a big thing. It's become the norm to believe that an appropriate life calling would be to play on big stages for millions, or makes billions and give it all away, or plant a new church.

But what if, the call above all other calls in our life, is simply to love as we have been loved by the King?

"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and every one who loves is born of God and knows God."
- 1 John 4:7

"A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must also love one another."
- John 13:34

"This is the message you have heard from the beginning: We should love one another."
- 1 John 13:11

"Freely you have received, now freely give."
- Matthew 10:8

My housemate Megan recently returned from a mission trip in Papua New Guinea, where she got to go into hospitals, prisons, halfway houses and schools to just love on those that the world has rejected. She shared of how God broke her heart for the felons, drug abusers, murderers, sick, and the orphans.

It was as she shared that that a new revelation dawned on me - one that I am almost ashamed to admit to, but feel is necessary to expose in my quest for personal growth to love more like Christ.

For most of my life, my heart has been (and still is) for missions - to live amongst villagers, walk barefeet in the mud and reach out to communities afflicted by poverty. I've dreamt of reaching out to these forgotten people, of one day being released to the world to walk alongside them and show them the unfailing love of our God that flows through my actions because I freely receive it daily.

That little conviction in my heart, the whisper from Papa God came and asked me this:
"What about that patient that's come in for the chronic back pain who wanted more ketamine?
What about the patient who's still homeless and spends what little they have on drugs?
What about the schizophrenic you really did not want to deal with that day?
What about the family member that wanted to talk when you were so stressed, busy, hungry and tired?
What about those who've been diagnosed with cancer and months to live?

What about the difficult patients who are demented, loud, demanding, aggressive and anxious, or the ones with head lice, food in their beards, or reek of urine infections/faecal incontinece?

You've been walking alongside these rejected ones every single day, and yet you have forgotten to love them too."

The truth is, while we're not supposed to have favourites in hospital, we do. There are some patients who are so easy to love because they are extremely beautiful, kind souls who want to get better and, who trust us to do our jobs too; then there are those who we count down the days till discharge, even the ones we kick out of hospital for unacceptable behaviour.

And then there are also those we are indifferent to, who become nothing more than patient 372, nothing more than today's problem to fix and tomorrow's job to send home afebrile.

...

"If you love only those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to others, to get back the same amount. 

But love your enemies, do good and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful."
- Luke 6:32-26

So, I take this as my lesson today, to always remember to stop for that one patient who can offer me nothing good in return, and to generously love simply because we all need to be loved. Freely I have received, now freely I must give. :) And what a joy it is to be able to do that with my life.

"The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord."
- Psalms 37:23

Because after all, maybe nothing is coincidence, and the very fact that two paths would collide for but a season is nothing short of miraculous, and carries every possibility to change the world as we know it.

The Simple Gospel

There's been a lot of things on my mind lately, but I stumbled across this today and felt such a peace wash over me as I listened to it over and over again.

In my busy-ness, how caught up I've been with life, how the future still scares me..
I am reminded of the simple gospel -

"Lord, I've been told to be ashamed
Lord, I've been told I don't measure up
Lord, I've been told I'm not good enough
But You're here with me

I reach out and You, find me in the dust
You say no amount of untruths, can separate us
I will rejoice in the simple gospel
I will rejoice in You, O Lord"
- Simple Gospel, United Pursuit

"Behold, what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God!"
- 1 John 3:1

"For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present or things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
- Romans 8:38-39

"Your perfect love is casting out all fear."
- 1 John 4:18

....

And so today, I'm thankful, again.

I'm thankful to be reminded that no matter where I stand, or where I go or what I do or who I try to be, that You love me. Just like that.

Not because I'm me, but because You're You.

And that You always will, and because of that, I know that I too can love like You have loved me.

"My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast. I will sing and give praise."
- Psalm 57:7 

Home Is Where You Are

Because I've come to learn that so much of me is you. :)

The Journey

I know something good that came out of what you went through.

It brought you to here, to right here, to right now.

And from here, anything is possible.

Not As They Appear To Be

"I don't think he's lost his voice, Maya. I think he's screaming."
- Girl Meets World

Momentary Intersections

You'd think I'd be used to goodbyes by now.

I'm not. Still don't like them one bit. 

On Death And Dying

Yesterday, I had to stand in a room and watch a man approach the end of his life.

I watched his breaths become laboured and periodic, what we label Cheyne-Stokes breathing - a common sign that the brainstem was starting to shut down.
I watched the critical care nurse silently point this out to me as we stood in this room, wondering if his next breath would be his last.
I watched him finally decidedly whisper to me - "Yes, this man is dying."

I remember thinking in that moment as tears welled up in my eyes, "God, please do not let me have to watch as this man dies." 

I watched my boss later explain to the family that full resuscitation in the event of expected deterioration was no longer a plausible or beneficial option.
I watched this man's long-suffering wife shed a tear, hold his hand, kiss him on his forehead and assure him things would be OK.

And, worst of all, I watched this jaundiced man before me lay with his mouth open on the bed, struggling to breathe and too weak to move anymore.

I think he knew as well.

...

I struggle to put into words the heaviness that I feel now, and the fear of facing a lack of understanding if I sought to express myself in any way other than screaming from my blinded stage.

I am humbled to so dramatically learn once more, that life is fragile and time finite.

I feel defeated, a sense that the ideals of a young girl who wanted to "save the world" was laughably naive and far too innocent to survive the harsh realities of life.

I worry that one day I would have to stand in different shoes in such a room, and watch someone I love breathe their last to the pathetic chorus of "I'm sorry but there's nothing more we can do."

I wonder if I am able to do good for others with my job, or end up causing more harm in my inexperience, busy-ness or lack of knowledge.

I still fear that I am not strong enough to be a doctor.

And in the midst of it all, I too am grieving for the immense loss in that room that night.

...

Grief, to me, is like using a Sharpie marker on skin.
You can try to rub it out or wash it off, but it stubbornly refuses to go easily.
You can try to ignore it, but it stands out like a sore thumb and screams its irrational demands to be noticed.
It sticks close for a period of time until you realise that all you can really do, is acknowledge it, suffer through it, and let its sting slowly fade away.

And with time, all wounds will eventually heal.

...

People say it gets easier along the way.

I hope so, but.. I worry for a day where the rawness of watching another human being reach the end of their life no longer affects the deep parts of my spirit.

In fact, I am afraid to one day be amongst people who suffer a deafening pain and in that moment feel nothing more than the responsibility to remain professionally composed, because I have learnt through practice to feign the perfect amount of compassion.

Because just like them, I too, am only human.

...

"And the very act of living is a tide; at first it seems to make no difference at all, then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded."

- Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

The Sum Of More Choices

This trip home, I got to meet up with a lot of old friends doing different things with their lives, just starting out with their first jobs. It intrigued me to hear tales of what it is they actually do, because it bore stark contrast to my daily routine at work.

In Melbs, I was surrounded by mostly university students or doctors every day, and I live with a Bible college student and a teacher. Being back home, I got to speak with a lawyer, a psychologist, an event planner, an NGO worker, an engineer and a teacher, amongst even more doctors.

I don't know what it is about 'growing up' that has been on my mind so much these past few days, the very thought of becoming an adult in this world with a unique identity of your own.

Being a twenty-something, it's been said that this is the time to make mistakes and discover who you really are; a time to take risks and sail new oceans for time will pass, and responsibility will grow. It's exciting and wonderful to finally be old enough to decide where your next step will be, but immensely scary as well.

And yet, after all these years of thinking I was so sure I knew who I was and what my identity is, at twenty-something with a stable career and dreams in my back pocket, I somehow feel I'm not so sure anymore.

I guess.. I'm still trying to figure that out.

Unless it's not about discovery, but rather finding the courage to create yourself - to unashamedly stand for the things you believe in, to boldly listen to the call of your passions, to chase them, and to rise again after every set back with determination.

...

In the past two weeks, we've talked about relationships, family, careers and aspirations.. and I often paused to wonder, how different my life would have been if I had made different choices along the way.

What if I stayed in KL to study instead of going abroad?
What if I took a year off?
What if I met different groups of friends along the way?
What about all those times my answer was a no instead of a yes?
What if this? What if that?

...

One thing is for sure though, I am here now. 

The real question is, where will the sum of more choices lead me next?

...

"Sometimes I can feel my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I am not living."
- Jonathan Safran Foer 

Of Growing Up And Moving Forwards

In between mouthfuls of delicious banana leaf rice today, I decided that we should go on adventure.

"C'mon guys, let's do something fun!"

Who would have known, that nekminnit we would be at FRIM (Forest Research Institute Malaysia), cycling rented bicycles and chasing waterfalls through the rainforest. What a day. :)

FRIM (2016)

That's us earlier today.

My very unfit body and quads will regret ever asking for this adventure tomorrow.

As we cycled on today, Eel reminded me that the first time she learnt to ride a bike was with us on our first trip together to Pangkor 6 years ago. I thought back to that trip and smiled, but was also filled with disbelief.. has it been 6 years already?

It feels like forever ago that we met in that small classroom in college and became friends, but over the years, this bunch has really grown to be my favourite bunch of travel buddies. From finding the best street food, to chasing hometowns and heritage stories, to skimming on cost as much as we can, to taking a million photos to commemorate the event, to doing the most ridiculous and embarrassing things in public.. I have loved every trip we embarked on together. Through the process of growing up and moving away, each trip has shrunk in size over time due to growing adult responsibilities and changing commitments.

So, while I have a second to ponder, here's my trip down memory lane - some of our travels together.  

Pulau Pangkor (2010)

Tugu Negara (2010)

Bukit Cahaya (2011)

Port Dickson (2011)

Pedas Linggi (2011)

Genting Highlands (2011)

Malacca (2011)

Kelantan (2012)

Thailand (2012)

Sungai Besar (2013)

Kuala Selangor (2015)

Organ Pipes National Park (2015)

Wilson's Promontory (2015)

Cape Schanck (2015)

So, the Malaysian gang of doctors will be starting work very soon, a two year commitment of extremely long hours and lack of holidays.. which means that as I said goodbye to Sean and Eel today, and the rest of the gang earlier this week, I really don't know when our next big trip, or meet up even will be, if that is possible ever again.

...

It's been said that the only constant thing in life is change.

How did we change from the noisy college kids who just wanted to eat all the time, to adults with jobs, taxes, rent, career goals, new relationships and who are all across several states around the world?

I love the change that has overtaken us in the past few years, but it's also a bit sad to reminisce and realise how much you have to leave behind in the past as dusty memories, and move on to our individual paths heading different directions.

#candicewhysoemo

...

We press on. :)

We keep running our races, making the efforts to stay in touch and one day, one day.. we'll go on another adventure together once again.

Till then,
Dice

Different Adventures

It's no secret that I love life on the mission field, that I crave being in villages, away from technology, learning to live simply and freely from people who do it so well.

I find myself reminiscing of days in Orang Asli villages in Malaysia outside my comfort zone, battling frogs; sailing through the rivers of The Gulf Province in Papua New Guinea with people from all over the world united to improve the health conditions of villagers there; or eating dahl and rice with the locals in rural Nepal and learning more about medicine around the world.

While those opportunities are not present for me this year, I find the adventurer in me reaching out to new challenges I never considered to be in my grasp, to new things I never thought I would try again, and to grow in preparation to be launched to where I always dreamt I would be.

...

This year, I got a new helix piercing, which I absolutely love. Hopefully this will make me look more tough as a baby-faced doctor.

This year, I resumed ballet classes, braving leotards, pirouettes and developes once more, and discovering so much joy in the grace and strength behind the movements.

This year, I took spontaneous road trips, be it by myself or with friends. I explored new territories and was constantly amazed by the workmanship of my Father's hands.

This year, I chose to continue serving in Urban Life and went of a humbling journey of continual realisation that there is still so much more to learn always.

This year, I became a doctor, and focused more on my learning and growing, attempting to be a better teacher to those more junior than me as well. I find myself re-learning professionalism, compassion and teamwork in the process of improving my knowledge, and making many new friends along the way as well.
...

Things are different this year indeed, but there's no reason it shouldn't be just as beautiful, if not even more so. :)

I am blessed indeed.

Things I Lost In The Smash

"Well,"he sighed, "Hurt people hurt people."

...

I remembered those words as I cried over the smashed back window of my car last night.

It was a mistake on my part to leave my large bag of hospital stuff in the back seat, but I genuinely thought I had covered it enough, that no one would think to take it and that it was dark and late anyways.

Yea, I was wrong about that.

What hurt the most though, was that I had a lot of valuables in that bag - not the kind the people who took them would be interested in, but things that were extremely precious to me.

My Bible - This was from my mum when I was a kid, and it has been with me through many years, many struggles, many joys, many faith struggles of waiting for promises to come to pass. I have spent time wondering who I could gift it to in the future when my time is up even, but I guess this one will be going somewhere else instead.

My notebook - This was a gift from my mentor Rach, one of my absolute favourite presents ever with a long handwritten encouragement in the front. It contained so much of my journey and God encounters over the past few months too.

My stethoscope - This was my graduation gift from my parents, and my first one as a real doctor too.

My ring - This was a gift from a missionary at a mission's conference at Stairway church that I went for, which has always been a precious reminder of the destiny before me and the kindness and obedience of strangers.

My ballet shoes - Shoes I've had since I was a teenager, and shoes I have recently tried on once more in hopes of re-learning ballet once again.

My jumper - Bea che got me this from Country Road because it had a big C on it, and it's been one of my favourites.

My tissue holder - Mama made this for me for my tissues so they don't keep spilling out the packet. It's got beads on it and a really girly colourful print. I remember this one time we went on a road trip and I chucked a whole bunch of my stuff in Wen Shi's bag, and when he wanted to take stuff out of his bag and saw it, he exclaimed, "The hell do I have in my bag???"

My library book - Which I'm going to need to replace.

My bag - This Forever New bag was from daddy, who kept insisting to buy me a new bag that I liked that wasn't cheap and poorly made.

My hospital ID - My very first tag that said Dr Candice Toh, and the name tag I successfully kept after my ED rotation even though I was supposed to return it.

...

I've lost a lot of precious things in the smash, and grieved thoroughly for them last night.

But you know what? It made me realise the things that I do have in my life too, far, far more precious things than material items. 

I have family that I can call after midnight in tears who would leave home to make a police report for me even though they had a baby to take care of, and help me clean up the mess too.

I have friends who would help my sister babysit and comfort me in the carpark as I cried.

I have people in my life who are praying for me to get through this and faithing for the return of my items.

I have an incredibly supportive work environment that even on a Sunday, two people from work have already replied my messages and are helping me to sort out my missing ID.

Even though I have lost precious things, I haven't lost the precious people that gave those things to me, and the memory of these things will be remembered forever. 

...

"When treated with slander, you respond with kind words."
- 1 Corinthians 4:13

This was prophesied over me a few weeks ago by a missionary friend of my mentor, who I have never met before.

I feel like the world, or my flesh even, if demanding a response from me that is anger, fear, disappointment in God, negativity and hatred.

But my God who has been slandered far more than me and carried a heavy wooden cross as He was broken and bruised up to Calvary, that God, has still been able to love the people who did it to Him with so much genuine passion. 

And that's how I know that I can rise above this too, and that I have the strength to respond with kind words and a fresh hope, because Jesus lives in me. 

...

To the hurt person who smashed my window in search for something that can be exchanged for money, I pray you find hope. I pray my Bible touches you more than anything else in that bag, that you would know that despite the mess you are living in, that Jesus loves you too. And I pray that peace would come and overwhelm your heart, turn you from your ways, and set you on a path of living a life that would make a positive impact on this generation. You are so much more than you have settled to be. You are worth so much more than you believe. Life doesn't have to be like this, and I pray, oh how I pray, that you would one day soon be able to experience real fullness in life that only God can provide. 

I forgive you. 

Musings of a Junior Doctor: Starting Over

This past week, I started a new rotation - Neurology, which has demanded exceedingly of me, inspired me, moved me, challenged me, and taught me so much already.


It's not easy being the junior doctor.


Some days I feel like I don't know a single thing, nowhere near the depth or the breadth of the knowledge of my seniors. "Fake it till you make it," came the advice of many who have gone before me.


On my second day of this new job, hours after I was supposed to have left, I heard the medical emergency call over the speakers for one of my patients. I walked up to the wards and stood in the corner, trying to figure out what was happening. While this was going on, I heard the senior doctors covering that night talk about resuscitation statuses, that if this patient would deteriorate, they would just let him go despite his relatively young age, because of his many comorbidities.


I remember feeling so overwhelmed as I stood there. What if he wasn't still alive the next morning for our rounds? Should we have treated him differently early that day to prevent this? What if it was something I did wrong?


He eventually got better though, and over the past few weeks I've gotten to know him more as well. More often than not, he is one of those patients that makes me smile in the midst of a busy day.


Most days, work finishes after 7.30pm for me, despite our rostered hours ending at 4.30pm.


But the truth is, overtime is my favourite time of the day, because I get to sit down, breath and just do paperwork when the wards have quietened down and people aren't expecting me to do ten different jobs or answer ten different questions anymore.


And, during overtime too, I am usually able to catch the sunset over the sea from the windows of our ward on the fifth floor of the hospital. I remember commenting one day how beautiful it was, and one of the other junior doctors laughed and said, "That's kinda sad for us, don't you think?"


I feel like I'm just starting to ramble about random things from my week now.


I think what I'm trying to debrief out of my crazy week is this.


I'm thankful for a rotation that is stretching me and teaching me so much.
I'm thankful for sunsets over the sea as I work.
I'm thankful for a team that works hard, teaches generously and is kind and understanding with one another and with patients.
I'm thankful for funny work stories that we laugh about together.
I'm thankful for friends who understand this season of my life and have gone above and beyond to walk with me through this.
I'm thankful for sleep and rest, even if I get less of it than I used to.
I'm thankful for patients who bring joy to my heart and make this job such a pleasure.
I'm thankful for the encouragement of my patients and my bosses that despite how much I know I still don't know, that I'm doing well and that I will continue to grow.
I'm thankful for the chocolates in the nurses office and biscuits on the ward.
I'm thankful for the forty plus minutes I spend driving to work or home from work, where I get to rest, think, breathe, reflect, and talk to God.


Because ultimately, even if it is hard work and so difficult at times, I am so thankful to be a junior doctor at all.

Sunday Morning Reflections

I woke up close to 7am today, and decided to go for a hike up 1000 steps.

I needed to take breaks on several occasions, and was exhausted by the time I reached the top.  Throughout the journey though, I could feel Papa saying to me,
"It's okay if you have to take breaks, as long as you purpose in your heart to finish your journey. 
It's okay if you don't feel strong enough sometimes, as long as you decide to keep moving forwards. 
It's okay if you can't save everyone, as long as you keep on loving those that come your way.

Look how much stronger you are now."

...

"You don't have to love people harder. You just have to live within the love and presence of God and that will overflow onto everyone that you meet."

...

"Always, always, remember to stop for the one, wherever you go."

Debrief: One Night In Emergency

He was a likeable fellow, early thirties, very thoughtful and humorous, and kept me smiling with a constant stream of jokes the whole time I was treating him.

That night, he had come in with a painful left foot that needed X-Rays and a cast.

We built good rapport with one another fairly quickly, trading stories and chemistry jokes. He even got to hear the circus arts vs medical school dilemma from my early teenage years. He then told me of his journey as a professional clown for years, touring the world, eventually being an individual act, and then exploring acting as a career and now, writing. Amused, I assured him that I would purchase his novel if ever I saw it in a bookstore. What an exciting journey he portrayed indeed!

I glued his wound back together, bandaged it and put his foot in a plaster cast.

Hobbling out of emergency with his crutches, medication and a brand new plaster cast, he quite loudly announced in front of the whole department so that I could hear from our staff base where I was sitting, "Your compassion and healing has been exemplary!"

With a cheeky grin spread across his face, he left the department.

...

Later that shift though, in stark contrast to that experience, I encountered her.

This girl, who was just about as old as I was, had come in for "self-inflicted lacerations to her lower legs". 

I hadn't yet met her at that point but I heard what all the staff were saying about her.

"Did you see the number of scars on her arms and her legs?"
"She's done cuts with a razor blade in a crosshatched manner this time, it's not going to be possible to suture that up."

I knew she was coming to short stay for the rest of the night, where I was in charge. A plan was put in place for her, she was to be reviewed by plastic surgeons in the morning, and for me this meant that I didn't really have to see her at all or manage anything at this stage. So she was moved, and I tended to my other jobs instead.

7.30am, I get a call that plastics didn't think she needed surgery, that the wound could just be cleaned, steri-stripped and bandaged, and that the nurses could easily deal with it if I had other jobs to do. I relayed this to her nurse, who accepted the job without complaint.

I went back to the staff base and sat in front my computer again.

"Self-inflicted lacerations to her lower legs."

To be honest, triage doesn't give patients much of a personality with the 4-10 words they use in their descriptions on our tracking list.

All night, she had been just a name on my screen, which is something I must admit has occurred a lot more frequently now that I am a "busy" intern. Third-year-medical-student me would have been so ashamed of how I allowed this to happen. Third-year-medical-student me would not have been put off by frequent presenters to hospital and was always innocently bright-eyed, looking to bless a struggling patient at whatever cost. 

I hesitated for a moment as I read that once more, and finally got up to tell her nurse that I would dress the wounds myself. 

As I set up to dress the wounds in her cubicle, I got to have a good glimpse of her arms and her legs. Believe me, that I am in no way exaggerating when I say that there was no part of her limbs that was not covered in some sort of self-inflicted scar. There were countless slashes all across her arms and legs, in different lengths and depths, healed into a myriad of colours - some a deep purple whereas others were as white as snow. 

I cannot imagine anybody being able to take a good look at her, gaze at her skin that was so far beyond what it ought to look like, what it once used to look like, and not feel a deep pang of compassion for her. 

I gently asked her if she wanted to talk about why she did it this time. 

She quietly shook her head, continuing to observe my actions in the cubicle. As I looked at her and waited to see if I would get any further response, she had this look in her eyes that spoke more clearly than anything she could have audibly mentioned. 

"How could you understand? Young, well-dressed, happy doctor like you, how could you ever know anything about my pain?"

And to be honest, she was probably right. 

I wasn't born into a low socioeconomic area. I grew up with great opportunities before me to attend a private school and pursue any university degree that I could get myself accepted to. Even now, I often receive compliments to further boost my self-confidence regarding the way that I look and the way that I act. I come from a loving and supportive family. I know that there are people I can call right now who would immediately attend to my needs if I was struggling with even half of what she was going through.

I have never walked in anything close to the shoes she had been walking in all her life. 

And for the first time since I started work, I felt so inadequate as a doctor not because I didn't know enough academically compared to my peers and seniors, but this time simply because I just could not fix her problems. I hated that I would eventually send home a bandaged version of a girl that was just as broken as the one that walked into emergency bleeding all over her trousers in the middle of the night. 

I regretted not being someone who was more inspiring, who was courageous enough to look her in the eyes and really tell her that she was so precious and important, and that it was not too late to be who she dreamt she would be. I wished so hard that I was bold enough to tell her about the reason I am who I am today - a God that know her by name, adores her so much and whose heart broke each time she cut herself like this. 

With a head full of thoughts, I cleaned her wounds slowly, praying quietly for the peace of a young girl and the healing of her emotional wounds as my hands were laid upon her. I bandaged up her injuries, and sent her on her way afterwards. 

Expressionless and numb, holding on to what was left of her bloodied belongings, she left the department.

...

"Stir in me a love that's deep

A love that's wide, a love that's sweet

And help me Lord to never keep it to myself

Cause there's no fear in love."

A Debrief: What Being Dr Candice Toh Feels Like

I spoke to my parents after finishing my midnight shift tonight, and daddy told me of how my sister recently found a small, folded piece of paper that I wrote in as a child.

In it, were these words -  "I want to be a doctor. I want to help people. I want to change the world."

...

I've come a long way since then. 

This job that I have now - it's such a testimony of God's grace upon my life. I've been meaning to write that testimony out for a while now, but just never found the time to do so.

Second-priority job offers (for international students) were supposed to come out in August. I remember being on yet another God-led mission trip to Pos Gob for a government mobile clinic then, and feeling God whisper to me amidst the lack of connection to the outside world - "Frankston". I felt it over and over again that I was so sure I would get the job.

When the offers came out though, I didn't get the job.

It was hard, but I knew, that the same God that has been so faithful to me all my life, the One who never left my side through trial and pain, that same God would do exactly what He has promised me He would do.

And so I called Frankston. I called and I called, and often doubted myself - that my grades probably weren't impressive enough, this year was extra competitive for jobs due to the increasing number of medical students, my CV lacked medical research... I just was not good enough for this.

I started considering going home to Malaysia instead. And after all the time I spent at the Gombak Aboriginal Hospital in Malaysia, I was quite okay with the idea of it.

One day though, in the midst of worship, I felt God clearly say to me - "Your willingness to give this up is not making you any stronger, nor is it giving you more power over Me. In fact, it is your faith that will see this promise through to fruition."

Fast forward to October - still no job. My last placement of the year was at a rehab in Frankston. I did work hard then, but truly more than anything else, I am so thankful for God's favour upon my life. Having built good rapport with my consultant, he offered to help me with my references, and ended up writing me a really nice recommendation letter about the work I had been doing on the ward, my approachability, knowledge and dedication. My intern was so pleased with the help I had been that he too called medical workforce on my behalf. And to my delight, on the last week of placement, I was told that I had been moved to the top of the waiting list.

The next week was back-to-base week at uni, and the Monday was incidentally my birthday as well. B2B week was like a reunion, the whole cohort gathering together again and catching up, and one of the first few questions that would get asked usually is, "So where are you next year?" Needless to say, it was a pretty awful day for me having to explain over and over that I was still unemployed.

The next day, I found out that a friend of mine who had a spot at Frankston had received a job offer interstate where she wanted to go. This meant a spot had become vacant, and if what I was told was correct, it would be for me. We agreed to call workforce together the next day, and to my surprise, my employment wasn't as confirmed as I initially thought.

After a long and arduous wait, I decided to email workforce a day later to respectfully ask if the position had been filled.

Turns out, I didn't get the job.

I'll be honest, I went home and cried that day. I didn't know how much longer God wanted to keep me in limbo, I didn't know if I really heard Him right or not. I started to regret not calling anywhere else, for not trying a rural location instead.

I've always felt though, that my time in Melbourne wasn't up. Somehow, God still had(has) destiny in store for me right here in this season. I remember telling Papa, "If I go back, I'm gonna forget Melbourne for good and the promises I felt from You that are related to here. If I get to stay though, I'll know You still want me here, I'll stay in ministry because I'll know that's important to You."

Friday, I decided to take matters into my own hand and get an academic transcript. I would apply interstate, and call up all rural hospitals as well. I didn't want to just go on by faith anymore. Still, it was already evening, so any calls would have to be made Monday morning instead.

Come Monday morning, I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to intentionally stray from what I knew God wanted for my life. I started asking for more prayer from those around me instead. I started writing declarations of the promises God has confirmed in my life. And, I made peace in my heart for what would happen if God didn't come through - I would go home to Malaysia, work hard and continue to chase my dreams of becoming a medical missionary. I love Malaysia anyways, life would be harder for sure, but I believed I would survive.

Wednesday, in my sister's apartment, with a clay mask on my face preventing much facial expression - the email came.

After months of waiting, I had finally been offered a job at this very hospital.
Two weeks before graduation, I was no longer unemployed.

God really did come through for me. 

Wow. Just.. wow.

Some days I still can't believe it, that He's been so, so real and faithful to me, and that He walks every step of this journey holding my hand so tightly. Thank You Jesus for being so so good to me. You never fail to humble and amaze me with Your incredible grace. :)

...

Fast forward a month or so later, and here I am, lying in bed typing at 3.51am after an evening shift and FaceTime with my family back home.

Many days it still feels weird to see the Dr in front of my name on my ID or the computer system.

Ask any medical intern, we wear our titles on bills, bank details and applications with pride and an almost childish kind of joy. It's just cool, and it's been a long time coming too.

However, the title 'Dr' has also carried the most enormous weight upon our shoulders.

After at least three years of clinical placement and "I'll get the (real) doctor for you dear patient" , suddenly I find myself in the shoes of the "real doctor". It is now my responsibility to give this patient the best medical care possible, to listen, to know, to explain, to try and understand their perspective, to not judge and to respect them, the way I would want myself or a loved one treated.

Knowledge is no longer a mere discrepancy between a credit and an HD any longer, it provides the ability to pick up on something serious that would have been missed otherwise.
Good clinical skills are no longer just to impress an OSCE examiner, but to really understand the clues that a patient's body is giving us to help us treat them.
Offering a crying patient a tissue is not just a means of getting an extra mark with a simulated patient anymore, it's a mark of respect, heartfelt care and genuine concern for the wellbeing of a patient.

So, I'll say it now. Being a doctor is hard.

There are the days you feel you're doing a fabulous job - busting discharge summaries at the speed of near-lightning, getting those cannulas in, picking up the diastolic murmur on auscultation, having patients thank you for your excellent care... and then there are the days where people yell at you for the decisions your superiors made, where you miss one thing in the list of ten things you were told to do and it turned out to be important, where patients get angry for having to wait so long, days where you just feel so completely, extremely, entirely out of your depth to be trusted with this job of saving lives.

But.. it's a journey.

Every time I reach a point of wanting to break apart for whatever recent stressor in this job happened, I remind myself of that.

"But it's a journey. "

And as long as I keep moving forwards and learning from my mistakes, I'll get better.

And in the midst of my fears of inadequacy and struggles to stay afloat, I feel God hold me and say "Hey, hey baby girl.. you're doing just fine. Everything is going to be okay."

He's brought me this far hasn't He? :)

...

I'll live to fight another day.

I've gotta live up to the expectations of that child many years ago who scribbled on a piece of paper. I've got to make her dreams come true.

So, for now, good night to you, dear reader. :) I pray that you are able to make your dreams come true as well.

With much love,
Just.. dice :)