What seems like a fairly simple question, has been something that I’ve dreaded answering for the past two weeks. It bothers me that I can’t blurt out an automatic “Fine.” It would instead, become a catalyst for me to contemplate my so-called misery.

I appreciate the concern though. But you know that feeling when negative emotions build up and any act of kindness just catches you off guard? Yeah. I mean, I thought I was fine. I felt okay about myself because I managed to beat the 20-minute CTG to finish seeing a patient. As I rushed down to trace an urgent result at the lab, I bumped into a colleague who asked THE question and… Let’s just say there were tears. And at the same time, I was scrolling through the Whatsapp group and sending the results as fast as I could. HAHAHA nangis, nangis gak. Kerja tetap kena jalan.

 

In this adaptation period, the ikan kering has been my spirit animal.

Dried fish aka ikan kering. Do you see the resemblance?

 

Dehydrated, dead-ish and a salty AF. Okay maybe not that last one but it got to a point where a friend has noticed the deterioration in happiness in comparison to my first week. To be fair, I haven’t had a day off in almost two weeks. Anyone would be exhausted. Making mistakes is a painful norm, and I struggle when I’m thrown into something I haven’t done before.

There are days when you’re met with harsh words (some deserving, some unnecessary) and unfair judgements. Let this be a reminder that their actions towards you speak more about them than it does about yourself.

I’m not thriving, and I’m not saying it to invite you to my pity party. It’s important to remember these humble beginnings. We all start from zero and hard times are somewhat inevitable. Gotta go through it to be harder/better/faster/stronger (whaddup Daft Punk reference)  – like what differentiation was to calculus, like what sore hamstrings were to get that adho mukha svnasana.

On a more positive note

Not everything is bad. I’ve also had the pleasure of working with good seniors and nurses who make my day, and got to assist in surgeries with medical officers who are willing to teach me. Plus, life outside the hospital is bliss – I’ve found a yoga studio that I love, and the hunt for delicious food has been satisfying.

Somebody once told me that the stress of being in this profession brings out the worst in ourselves. I’ve learnt that it’s a personal choice. You can succumb to it and make life a living hell for others. Or you can fulfill your calling to actually “help people”, no matter how tough it gets. I need to keep my intentions in check.

Which brings me to this…

 

Help me, so that I can be a form of help to others.

 

A short prayer that I would turn to when my anxiety fails me. Personally, it’s comforting to know that across the South China Sea, my parents are doing the same for me too. Not sure if there’s a proper Arabic version of it but hey I guess Rabbi yassir wala tu’assir, Rabbi tammim bil khayr comes pretty close?

 

Oh Allah, make things easier for me, and do not make things difficult for me. Oh Allah, let my affairs end with goodness.

 

Hold tight, friends. We’ll get better at this.

 

 

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