I’m sure you are well aware that you did not give us any lecture or discussion or tutorial on the basics. You also failed to specify the knowledge we needed to gain by the end of the module. I’m sure you are also aware that you have the highest number of students failing the exams and/or repeating the module.

Despite this, you were also the ones insistent upon how important this module is, how it is the basic of all medicine. But, sadly, that was all you could tell us about it.

Well, a patient died last week. I pretty much killed her. I’m 2 thirds over the module, and I watched her die 16 hours after she was admitted.

Diabetic Ketoacidosis.

I read about it in detail later, or a little too late. The first thing I read was that mortality from DKA is <1% even in tertiary health centers.

You, Sir, killed her. By not teaching me anything, not introducing me, us, to the pitfalls of diabetes – the most common endocrine disorder – you have successfully killed someone I should have been able to save.

There is a proper time for me to do that sir, kill a woman by ignorance. It is during my internship, when I am to work professionally, because I have been well-trained, properly educated. Not during my clerkship, when you are responsible of teaching, guiding and training me. Responsible sir. You are responsible. It is your responsibility. And I shouldn’t be the only one losing sleep over this. You should too.

Sir, we don’t know whether I will fail this module. But I can tell you that as a teacher and as a doctor, you, Sir, have failed.

Regards,

Your murderous student.

Most of Mr X’s acquaintances refer to him as Dr X. I’m given the title Miss. (based on facebook stats)

I’m not  okay with this.

So then i revisited my page. And his. Even on our birthdays hes referred to as doctor, and i’m miss.

It’s what we do, what we say, how we stand, speak, walk that makes these differences.

He walks, talks and acts like a doctor. I’m a clown. He does not post random updates on facebook complaining of school. I do, all the time. It’s unprofessional, its not befitting, i realize that.

If I wanted to be referred to as a doctor, I suppose I must start to show it.

The question is, would I rather be a doctor or a clown?

How odd.

The dude that was teaching us ACLS wanted to be a pilot. I wanted to be a pilot. I still do. Not that I don’t want to be a doctor, because I do so want to. But to fly – well hey…

His father didn’t let him be a pilot, and now he’s a cardiologist. He earns crazy gumps of money monthly I suppose. He’s happy, too, quite content, and he’s awesome at what he does, and he seems to enjoy it. But it was so obvious that when he saw us, he began to talk about his youth – how he wanted to be a pilot.

He still wants to be a pilot. Not in the “i wonder what my life would be like, had I…”, but more of “I wanted to fly, not study.”

And of course there are no regrets. And from his stories he had flown a plane.

I love this song by John Mayer though.. And I haven’t yet figured out how this applies to me, but the effect was so strong that I had to, had to say something about it. Even if just so I won’t forget.

How come the only way to know how high you get me / is to see how far I fall

I will never again be 20, in the best city in the world, drinking beer for the first time, with people who understood my jokes, meeting possibly the only boy who was on my frequency…

How can they wish me all the best when all the best have already happened?

It’s lovely.

It occured to me, while staring out at the traffic that has a quarter of my life – how much the theory of cars applies to boys.

For example, I loved my old car. Indeed, loved it so that I nearly cried when it was sold. But it was old, and quite often it would have little problems regarding the engine, the ac, the radio, the windows – every goddamn thing.

What I figured was; like a car, when the maintenance of a boy per year comes close to the cost of a new boy, then no matter how much you love it, it would be wiser to get a new one.

howmuchever you think you can’t feel the same about another car – you realize that it will be more time & cost efficient. And while giving away the old car was painful, and the new car feels strange to the touch – you suddenly realize that things have looked up.

You go through your first flood together and you’re inseparable.

The new car is never like the old one. After all, the old one had its quirks – the door can’t really close, the engine dies on its own… all the annoying things you’ll miss. Not to mention the memories…

But, the new car will feel right.

It doesn’t have to be brand new. A second hand can be just as satisfying.

I know.

Sad to say, I fear I will tire of it soon.

So of course there’s a reason this song became the title of a rant. Or maybe not. I’m not all that structured.. I am a girl, after all.

I suppose I really like how the boy in the song pointed out something, that’s not supposed to count, but counts anyway.

I feel very much like the girl – I don’t care for a lot of things, and come up with ideas on why I shouldn’t care. We’ve got nothing in common, falling apart – don’t care.

And anything, anyone could point out something like – well, didn’t you really like how that old woman looked forward to seeing you?  and i wouldn’t know what to say.

How can someone as messy as I be a doctor?

you’ll say.. we’ve got nothing in common…

no common grounds to start from..

and we’re falling apart..

i said, “what about Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

she said “I think I remember the film..

and as I recall, we both kinda liked it.”

i said “well that’s, the one thing we’ve got.”

That’s cause I met him, in appropriate doses.

Once a midnight rendezvous, jokes and a short kiss.

The next day coffee, and a peck or two.

And then done. Two text message, two emails, 2 twitter posts.

I don’t miss him.

Chatted with him on messenger a little bit. Stupid. Common.

Whatever happened will stay happened. And its good. It’s all good. We’ll just have to stay non-contact then.

I want to call him, talk to him. Then I remember why we stopped. Talking to him doesnt make me feel better, at all.