Bliss.

Bliss.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Horror Autotoxicus


"Literally, the horror of self-toxicity. A term coined by the great German bacteriologist and immunologist Paul Ehrlich (1854-1915) to describe the body's innate aversion to immunological self-destruction. However, as we now know, the immune system can upon occasion attack itself and does so in the autoimmune disorders."

Basically, Ehlrich discovered that goat erythrocytes from a different Goat B introduced into the Goat A can trigger an immunological reaction but Goat A's erythrocytes cause no such immune response in itself. This is because your body knows what "belongs to you"and what is "foreign" and responds accordingly. Sometimes, our mind too works in a similar fashion; our brain chooses what belongs (or rather who belongs to us) and eliminates other irrelevant characters. Which is why we find ourselves dwelling only on a limited number of people like our family and circle of friends. Everybody else is eliminated. We focus (or atleast we should) focus on the things that matter. 

The human body sometimes fails to recognize a foreign body and treats it as its own (example when the HIV infects the T helper cells in case of AIDS). Often, we make errors of judgement and fail to eliminate irrelevant issues from our mind and hence affecting productivity. In some other occasions, the body fails to realize that a certain protein or antigen is a part of its own system and unknowingly attacks and eliminates it. The lens protein of the eye is one such example which when exposed during any surgery, can result in phacoanaphylaxis (immune response where antibodies are produced against the lens protein). There are times when we fail to realize the importance of people in our lives and unknowningly eliminate them. (This is just randomly compiled nonsense because I decided to study MicroB today. Don't know if this made any sense.)

Another amazing thing I did today was read Forensic Medicine (for the first time) and not fall asleep in the process. According to the author, KSN Reddy, a cognizable offence is one in which the accused can be arrested even without an arrest warrant issued by the District Magistrate and this is only for few specific crimes such as murder, rape, dowry death, or any rash/negligent act. But this is so untrue in the Indian setting. How often, arrests are made without any warrant because the accused is ignorant of the law or is unable to defend himself. There are times when the ones who are to protect us are the ones who are to be feared more because of their misuse of power. We live in a country where corruption can make the right man punished, while the one to blame walks away. Trust me, It isn't uncommon to see an honest person in custody all because someone had a grudge against him and some officer's palms were greased with a few crisp notes of paper bearing the photo of the man who stood for honesty, integrity and non violence. Ironic, isn't it?

The year is ending, it does not do well to dwell on the bad times. Let me hunt for better things to write about. Music has been therapeutic, to say the least. Got several new songs to my playlist:

  • Axwell Ingrosso: Something New
  • Kelly Clarkson: Dark Side
  • Christina Perri: Butterfly (lyrics! :) )
  • Ed Sheeran: A Team
  • Carrie Underwood: Blown Away
  • Taylor Swift: Everything Has Changed
  • Imagine Dragons: Demons
  • OneRepublic: Counting Stars (popular in the hostel right now), Good Life
  • Beyonce': Halo, Best Thing I Never Had
  • One Direction: Steal My Girl
Adios, dear reader! :)
Here's wishing you a great year ahead. Every year has its ups and downs, every year teaches us something new, something to remember for life. Every year, we meet new people who will make an impact on us. Every year is an opportunity to make more out of our lives. Here's to better times ahead in 2015. May you work harder, may you reach your goals, may you face the tough times with grace, the good times with care and live life to the fullest and without regrets!

Friday, December 26, 2014

Price To Pay.

Life works differently for different people. Everybody has their own equations in life. Everybody has different rules by which they lead their lives. To each person, to get to their destination, they must chalk out their own path.

Sometimes, Life decides to play with you. Sometimes, Life decides to test your endurance. Life decides to put you through the obstacles that once made you stumble and fall just to see if you can rise up again, just to see if you can handle it, just to see if it can break down your dreams, goals and ambitions.

Each time you go into battle thinking that this will be the last time, telling yourself that there will only be good times ahead after this, convincing yourself that a wonderful life lies ahead but you are utterly mistaken.

Some things will always be a part of my life, I might as well get used to it. I guess I should never ever fall into the false sense of security that life will be okay. It only makes life harder to bear when bad times rear its ugly head at you.

Perhaps I am at fault for believing that things are okay, perhaps there is a price to pay for having fun, having a good time and for daring to dream about good times.

They say that there is a rainbow at the end of rain but I've realized that in my life, there can only be phases of balmy sunshine in between the persistent storm.

What hurts is the fact that you'll have to go into battle alone. What hurts is the fact that your intentions are doubted, your integrity is questioned and nothing you say will ever make sense.

Here's praying for better times ahead. The last thing I can handle is the horrors of the past resurfacing.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Back To December #2

Is this the post where I go on about how this year has been phenomenal, how this year has been a roller coaster ride, how there have been ups and downs, how I've learnt new things, made new friends, had new experiences and evolved as a person? No. Because that would be too cliche' and I wouldn't want to bore you with details of every mundane event in my life, especially after blogging about it extensively.

Basically, I crib about how nothing ever works out the way I want it but eventually I realize that it's in fact a blessing in disguise. Deemed to be Desired by the Deserving.

Currently on a mission to fall in love- (Watched PK recently. {Oh, I like that song! "I want to waste my time"}) -With Robbins (I don't like the way you think, idiots.) [Icabo has sufficiently inspired and instructed me to read Robbins] and slowly I'm beginning to agree with her; he (Robbins) has a subtle humour and you can't help but start liking the book.](Confession: Tissue repair didn't seem as fascinating as it should have due to deprivation of caffeine.)

Recently remembered the existence of a subject by name Forensic Medicine and Toxicology. Hence, need to attend to this too apart from Pharmacology {a name game with 100000000001 drug names that seem so simple and clear but 3 units later Amilodarone (anti-arrhythmic drug) and Amiloride (K+ sparing diuretic) sound too similar for your comfort, Metolazone (thiazide like diuretic) and Chlormezanone (skeletal muscle relaxant) make you wonder if you actually know what's going on} and Microbiology {where we're reading up about several cute bacteria [Cute but Killer. Clostridium tetani is this seemingly innocent looking bacilli that can cause deadly gas gangrene, food poisoning, enteric collitis and something else I can't remember right now.] since they're done with Immunology}

I've never truly appreciated the beauty and potential of Sanskrit. I regularly listen to a few prayers that I find effective in instilling me with confidence but recently chanced upon a few more tracks that made me feel that there is some power released, some cosmic energy that is generated that soothes my nerves, calms my frayed brains and tries to direct me towards a state of equilibrium. 

The hum of Sanskrit shabdas (Ramah Ramau Ramaaha....) seemed like a monotonous drone in the beginning of Sanskrit class in high school. But when I decided to entertain Divya (who was then about 3-4 months old) with the same chant, it transformed into a lilting lullaby and brought about a serenity in minutes in an otherwise bawling baby (conditions apply: not always!)

Do I see Gimpi in Icabo or Icabo in Gimpi? 

Hasta La Vista. :)

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Give me some Anxit.

Hey There! :)

It's that time of the year where I dream of distant snowflakes and glittering lights upon Christmas trees, festivity in the air and the spirit of Nativity everywhere but that's just a figment of my untethered imagination.

College is progressing as usual. Medicine postings have proven to be interesting and informative and we see patients everyday. We get to take their histories, inspect them, palpate for any abnormalities, percuss for any dullness and auscultate their breath sounds (for ronchi, crepitations, etc) and heart sounds (normal heart sounds and murmurs; if any, we also heard gallop sound in a patient with cor pulmonale)

But sometimes, it's a little awkward (in my opinion) because it's about 25 students surrounding a single patient as the doctor examines them. Privacy is not something the patient can hope to have. And upon that, if any abnormal breath sound is detected, God forbid, we take turns and auscultate to hear the sound. Of course, we can learn only by doing this, but when you think about how you're inconveniencing the patient, it does prick you. After all, how would you feel if you're feeling breathless and weak and a bunch of students jab their steth in your chest to listen to the specimen of a sound your body is producing? I concur, this is how you learn, but there is also a downside to it. 

Another aspect that touched me was how much trust the patients have in the doctor. The doctor is a Healer, the one who rids them of all illness, the one who gives them the good health and in the patients eyes, the doctor's word is final and accepted without question. Most of the patients who come to Subbaiah Hospital are from nearby rural areas (which is an advantage because they're more compliant and allow us to examine them which wouldn't happen so easily in an urban college) and a large percentage is not educated. The trust they place in the doctor is something great; it has to be earned, over time, by reputation. There was this patient (80yr old male, Tuberculosis) and the Doctor convinced him that by allowing us to examine him, we would be able to provide better treatment to him (which is not entirely true, but examining him would enable us to diagnose other TB patients in future). 

Another thing we've begun is a visit to the wards every night post dinner. These sessions are proving to be interesting and informative and we're getting to learn new things everyday. We basically see the case sheets, take a look at the medicines prescribed (and Google them to know more), see the blood reports, case history and talk to the patients and identify any signs of their symptoms. The highlight was when saw a one day old baby and held it in our hands as it slept blissfully, saw the clot removal of the mother and watched the pack removal in a hemorrhoids case (that was too many things for one day! :") )

So I'm familiar with a few drugs now:
  • Rantac, Pantodac, Omaze: Antacid
  • Buscopam(Hyoscine): anti spasmodic
  • Emiset(Ondansetron) (Anti-emetic): For Vomiting
  • Bandy Plus, Albendazole: Antihelminthic- Deworming related
  • Deriphylline (Bronchodilator): Given in Asthma
  • Xone, Taxim: antibacterial
  • Lupichlor: Diuretic
  • Sporlac: Given in case of Diarrhea
  • Silicar (Clinidipine): Anti-hypertensive
  • Doxy: Antibacterial
  • Diclonac (Diclophenac): Analgesic (NSAID)
  • Tiniba: Antibacterial again, antibiotic

Actually, there are so many more, but these are some that we see very commonly so I could remember these..

Today was particularly interesting. Giving IV Injections is the new task to be mastered (but first, we've got to become guinea pigs for each other before we can be able to give it to the patient).

Extremely happy in life after we (Abhi and I) went shopping yesterday (NUTELLA is my saviour, my knight in shining armour, the sole love of my life) and as always, hogged nicely at BPP (Bhatru Paani Puri) and chatted for what seemed like forever. :')


If you aren't there for the people who matter to you, what's the point? Currently confused and disoriented, Haven't spoken to Di in ages. How I wish I lived in Bangalore. *sigh*

There is pressure, to perform, to better oneself and be good in the profession we have chosen for ourselves, because, finally, you're going to be by yourself in the end. There isn't going to be anybody to whisper the answer to you when your patient asks you the same question that your teacher asks you in class. There isn't going to be anybody to help you out to read the ECG, or identify what is wrong in the X-Ray or tell you that the breath sound is slightly diminished on the left side, that there is a murmur indicating mitral stenosis. And this thought is daunting indeed. 

You are nobody until you prove yourself and become Somebody by your effort. I've realized that between that point and now, there isn't going to be any cheerleaders to encourage you, none to tell you that you have it in you and nobody but yourself. Be it family, friends or random strangers, you have to earn that respect, that comes with time, after dedication, determination and practice (Pun intended). And it appears daunting..

Ït takes a great deal of courage to stand up to our enemies but just as much to stand up to our friends"- Albus Dumbledore (Neville :D )

Sometimes we have to walk into the battlefield even when you know you're going to lose it. Vaibhav Sir (referring to a situation where the patient might go into DIC [Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation] and will most likely bleed out and yet the doctor inevitably tries all possible measures to stop it). What is also difficult is watching your friend walking onto such a battlefield where winning is bleak. Yet you staunchly stand by them, hoping for a miracle.

Game of Thrones is an interesting concept. Watched the initial half, Wikipedia-d the rest of the story because I realized I didn't want to be watching it.

Currently addicted to a few Kannada songs (yes, I can't believe it either!):

  • Jiya Theri, Jiya Meri (No it's not a Hindi song)
  • Hoovina Baanadanthe (after listening to Gimpi's soulful rendition)
  • Sangathi Thandeya.. (randomly)
And then of course, there's:
  • Aa Zara (Sunidhi)
  • Tum Mile (The title track of the movie)
  • Clarity (once again!)

Plans of rising early and visiting the wards exist so it's about time I bid adieu to the blogosphere. 

Statutory Warning: Mere use of medical terms does not imply that one is studying to the necessary potential. It merely implies that one is typing random nonsense and hence you are advised to switch off and sleep like a lamb.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

The Secrets Within The Mountains.

The snow pattered gently on the rooftop and inside the rickety house, a fire crackled with occasional spurts and hisses. Huzaifa stoked the fire with a twig every now and then but her beady eyes rested on the door in the hope of his arrival. Her porcelain like skin, sharp aquiline nose and piercing brown eyes were mostly masked by the veil but through the little gaps of the cloth, it was evident that she was a woman of striking beauty.

He was always unpredictable. He turned up when she least expected it, when she was least prepared. Each time, there was a change in him, in his persona as well as in physique. With each passing visit which had no pattern or predictable timing, there was an increase in the creases on his otherwise flawless face. The uncertainty of their future manifested itself in the form of a perpetually worried and wistful look. His beard lay untamed but it nevertheless gave a rugged appeal to the lanky man from the mountains.

They grew up together in a remote village in the snow clad mountains of Kashmir, forgotten by the rest of the country, hidden from the vagaries of Time. In their childhood, the snow clad valley was their playground; the trees and mountains were testimony to the years they had spent chasing each other amidst the wild flowers, nettled brambles, mountain goats and gentle peaks. No one knew the clandestine friendship that blossomed between Huzaifa and Aamir better than the pine trees which had sheltered them on many a winter nights.The streams and brooks knew their stories, the birds of the valley sang in harmony for the two youngsters as they grew up in the midst of uncertainty and volatility.


The youngest daughter of a local grocer, Huzaifa was a bright girl and had studied in the local girls school until it was shut down after an attack by the militants. Since then, she had immersed herself in all the books she could procure from her brothers. Although her parents had always encouraged her to study, allowing her to do so in another city was out of question. Yet, the desire to learn, to acquire knowledge and see more of the world outside was alive within her. If anybody understood her yearning and aspirations, it was Aamir, which was ironical, considering how he never cared about education himself.

Aamir, on the other hand, had had a rough and wild upbringing, living the summer months on the mountains as a tour guide and decamping to the valley during the winter months to work on the orchards as a farm hand. His mother had died during the birth of his younger brother and his father was an alcoholic; ill-tempered and seldom sober. Aamir was the main bread earner for the family and education was never an option in his world. Yet, throughout the years, he listened with rapt attention when Huzaifa shared her knowledge with him, be it the history of India’s Independence, the geography of Himalayas or even the stories of Akbar and Birbal. Perhaps he too had an innate thirst for knowledge or perhaps it was the lilting melody of her voice and her animated expressions as she described what she had read that made him listen to her without batting an eyelid. Every afternoon, they met by the stream under the shade of the deodar, where she enlightened him about happenings around the world which she grasped by surreptitiously scanning the day’s newspaper while he processed them and pondered over the consequences.

Over the years, Huzaifa blossomed from the bright eyed school girl to a tall young woman known for her quiet demeanor and intelligence while Aamir transformed from the unkempt and untamed boy into a mysterious young man, known for his disarmingly good looks but with an aura of danger around him. Although there was a charm in him, his eyes couldn't mask the secrets that he withheld. The bleak winters that followed year after year had instilled a melancholic air to his countenance and he often spoke of the vagaries of living in a land in perpetually in turmoil and terror. His eyes often betrayed his loyalties and glinted the anger he suppressed within himself. Abandoned by his family, forsaken by society and existing on a meagre income, the sole oasis in his barren desert was Huzaifa. Rumors were rife in the town that he mingled with shady characters, his whereabouts were unknown for days together and when he arrived unannounced at her doorstep, it set tongues wagging in the neighborhood.

Over the gentle patter of the snow, a single sharp knock echoed through the room. Her invalid mother was asleep in the adjacent room while her father was at the store. Huzaifa froze for a moment and rushed towards the door. It was always the same, the single sharp knock; nothing more, nothing less. She struggled to contain her excitement; it was over a month since his last visit. His last visit had left her in a state of turmoil after he had questioned what was to become of them in the future. The parting embrace left her in no doubt that there was to be an answer and that too, very soon.

The door creaked noisily as she slid the latch to welcome her beloved one but she found herself pulled into the arms of a stranger. Three men dragged her out of the house and within moments she was sneaked into a car waiting at their doorstep. She was paralyzed with fear and her squeaks of terror were muffled by a cloth to gag her. The car revved up and winded down the lane and rushed through the silent streets before anybody could detect anything amiss. Through the mountain path, the car trudged along for what seemed like hours until they reached their destination.

Huzaifa stumbled out of the car and was led into an old bungalow. In the distance she could see that the building was guarded by numerous men armed with rifles and the desire to use them. Her pleas for an explanation were met by murderous glares by the men and she resigned herself to the worst. Her worst fears had come true, her suspicions were being confirmed and she knew that she must face the inevitable.

They walked through a dimly lit corridor until they approached an ornately decorated oak wood door guarded by an armed man. The men exchanged significant looks and slowly led her through the door. What she saw next was a heart wrenching sight and she blinked back the tears clouding her vision and choking her voice.  Aamir lay on the ground, weak, emaciated and bare-chested revealing angry red whiplashes over his skin. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was bruised and blistered and he was in pain; he twitched and withered every now and then in agony.

Their eyes met. In the dank and dilapidated room realization dawned upon her as she continued to look vacantly into his eyes that sent out a plea for help. The answer to the questions that had nagged at the back of her mind was now crystal clear. The rumors that she had once dismissed with conviction were true beyond doubt.She looked questioningly, he bowed his head apologetically. She gave a minuscule nod in agreement and he shed a silent tear out of regret for the impending doom that awaited them. Her eyes searched into the depths of his; seeking his loyalty and he assured her through those unsaid words that he owed her his life.

The men began to speak, in angry voices, often shouting over each other to be heard. They accused him of betrayal and there was a price to pay for it. He had claimed to join their radical group, in support of a select group of militants and had been included in the inner fold of the sect until he developed cold feet and deserted them. And for his actions, there was a price to pay. They had discovered that Huzaifa was the one person closest to his heart and knew that she was the way to avenge the treachery. It was either his death or her suffering. The answer was obvious; neither saw the purpose in life without the other. 

As a last savage act of cruelty, they handed her a mirror and she lifted her veil. He grimaced and looked away to hide the tears that burned through his cheeks and she smiled sadly at her reflection for the last time. She tried to imprint the memory of her face before the acid scalded the porcelain skin that he had thought would be eternal. She whimpered in pain and the men walked away since the deed was done.  She writhed in agony while he embraced her through his calloused and blistered hands; they were finally united, in pain

Sunday, December 7, 2014

El Oh El

Hello there! Salaam Walekum! Ellarigu Namaskara!

Feeling hyper at midnight is certainly not a good sign. It implies I'm going to get up ultra late tomorrow morning and remain in a drowsy stupor for half the day. 

In Bangalore for the weekend. 5th was Ma's B'day and we had a nice time with a few surprises. :) 
MaPaDi :)
I've been bitten by the "Nostalgia Bug", if such a thing exists. Here's a sneak peek into the past. Basically, I was on Facebook since 2009. And in 2012, that account got deleted. (I had the habit of "deleting the account" and then logging back within 2 weeks so that it wouldn't actually get deleted. But then, I forgot all about it once and thus a new account was created. But luckily I had saved a copy of everything around that time so here's how things were back in Circa 2009-12

Short Hair Scenes. School day at
NIMHANS Convention Centre

Me, Lol. This was at the Case Study at NDRI



 
 Graduation Day. Those days were fun! :")


I had short hair once upon a time. The time when
I decided to cut my own hair. On MLK's B'day. -_-
Sleepover at Syko's, Dholarpur, Science Model Making
3G Connectivity, No prizes, Just a lot of fun. :)
My very first phone. Samsung Corby. Lost it when we shifted
our house for the renovation.


The things I posted on Facebook back then! I'm have glad that the old account doesn't exist anymore. So we had this huge discussion over the possibility of this setup. KK was a Facebook Spamming Friend. :P No Wonder
I got less in HCG. I spent 5 minutes spamming walls everyday. Even during Boards. -_-
Guddi. :D
The Deeksha Days. This was during the one trip we had
during our two years in Deeksha. Striped, smileys and Ponies.
<3

Friends since 2011. Friendships that will last a lifetime. :)

 
 
MyTeaHouse hangout with X A2 peeps. Ba, Punyakoti and I
literally jumped out of the Deeksha bus and ran towards MyTeaHouse
in our uniforms because we were so excited. :P
Ambli Resort on the way to Mysore during October 2011.
Fun times with the Family. :)
 Sensible posts will make their foray in Shimoga. :)

I've been feeling extremely accomplished lately. Very soon, it will be 5 whole years since I started this blog. I feel the need to commemorate the occasion. Although, I agree that mere ranting about the flaws in my persona, the mundane reality of my life on a public platform does make me accomplished by any definition of the term. Yet, it's something, I'm happy about, something I consider as my achievement.

Anyway, Adios reader. :) 


Sunday, November 30, 2014

Spontaneity Is The Best.

Before I blog about everything else, I MUST  tell you about the events of yesterday in which I'm still absorbed because it was the most unexpected thing that happened in a long time.

So we had our MicroB test yesterday (Immune response) and my plans for visiting McGann Hospital once again went for a toss so there I was sitting in the room with a not so definite plan of doing some Across MCQs and completing my records while watching my roommate pick her wardrobe for a shaadi when out of the blue Nammu ma'am, Anu and their friend decide that I'm going to join them. With no more details than "Get ready and come in 2 minutes" I had no clue where we were heading.

When I got to the gate, I realized it was Gaadi Scenes!! It had been over 6 weeks since I had any ride on a gaadi so I was plenty excited and thrilled despite the initial trepidation that I would feel like a fish out of water. Nevertheless, we made our way to Gopalagowda extension and then headed towards Gajanur Dam.

Blue skies and glimmering waters.

Nammu ma'am being an awesome rider made the journey exciting by making me try a few stunts. The best feeling is of the wind rushing against your face, the scenic beauty whizzing by, the sheer speed of the vehicle leaving you teary-eyed, a beautifully empty road that never seems to end and company that you enjoy! We reached there in no time and the view was beautiful. Although we weren't allowed to go much further, the calm and placid waters was a treat to the eyes. After this we continued further on a road that was mostly deserted and offered a beautiful view of the reservoir.. After Sakrebailuru and View point we made our way back to the city and I finally got my hands on the gaadi (It wasn't hard at all, despite the difference in CC with respect to my Scooty Pep+)
Happiness lies in venturing out to explore. :)

After some customary hogging at Cafe Chillax (for the second time in a week) and samosas it was time to head back to college. The skies had darkened, the stars were twinkling and Shimoga traffic is known for it's waywardness, but we rode back to college anyway. I was so glad that I could do it without any hitch! There's a small stretch on NH17 just before the college which has a bend and overlooks the Purle Lake (which is now filled with overgrown and untamed weeds) which has no street lights. Speeding through this stretch in the darkness with the lights of "Subbaiah Palace" glimmering in the distance is a moment to be cherished. :D

Anu, Nammu ma'am and Me :)

The happiest bit is that I sent the pictures to MaPa and (surprisingly, shockingly, astonishingly, thankfully) they did not reprimand me but were quite happy that I had a good time and a safe journey.

Shades are the hottest thing that happened to Mankind. :P
Spontaneity is the best possible phenomenon. Always make room for the unknown, always embrace that which is unexpected because good things are very often surprise packages! 

All thanks to Nammu ma'am, the roomie who turned around a sleepy Saturday into someting so memorable. :D 
Adios, folks. :)

Let It Go.

There's so much I'll have to blog about but there's no way I can do it. I'll have to do it in installments or just present the highlights (In bullet points, my eternal favourite.)

So here's what's happened since my last post:
  • Bhopiee called me. (The very same day I posted my last blogpost which was a tad depressed to say the least.) It made me immensely happy and I love how she totally understood my predicament and offered some genuine advice to stay sane inspite of all the turmoil.
  • Maidha called me. (After reading my previous post. It is noteworthy and ought to be mentioned because Sheepie calling up is a rarity that must be applauded. :P )
  • We've had two Microbiology tests and a Pharmacology test.
  • We attended a wedding in Shimoga and hogged on some banana leaf dinner after what seemed like forever. Yet another spontaneous event, we got all dressed up, blessed the couple and had some good food and returned fashionably late to the hostel.
    All set to attend the wedding :)
    Selfie in the Wedding.
  • We celebrated Kannada Rajyothsava in college (where Pranesh, a humorous Kannada speaker and the Dollu Kunitha troupe provided entertainment.) So the entire event was Kannada themed and some of the performances were really good. 
Naada Geethe singing in progress.
  • Random things tend to be a lot of fun, as I've discovered lately. DO NOT LAUGH. -_-
Sliding down the stairs on a mattress. :P
  • I got into trouble with the Patho HoD in his class (inspite of showing him that I'd made notes of what he'd been teaching and he has decided to commit my face to his memory so that I get to make a fool of myself repeatedly. I'm just hoping that he won't remember me in his class in the coming week.
  • Surgery postings are over and now we're having General Medicine postings. The initial few classes were taken by Dr. Mahendrappa who is from SIMS Govt. college. His classes are like a treasure trove of knowledge thanks to his immense experience at the reputed government hospital in the city. Several diseases are endemic to certain regions such as Kyasanur Forest disease which is prevalent in this region of fluorosis which is more common in Mundargi or Leprosy which is of higher incidence in Mysore. The way in which he describes anecdotes and cases that he has seen during his service in SIMS makes me wish I was also a part of such a 'real' medical college, brimming with patients, where you acquire soft skills and your experiences are more vast. (My desire to see McGann was partly fuelled by his classes). Apart from him there's also Dr.Shekharappa from SIMS who is also extremely good and doesn't divert much from the topic assigned (which is something I don't mind though. :P )
  • Vaibhav Sir has been giving pearls of wisdom (laced and decorated with exceeding wit and sarcasm). It's amazing how some people are so knowledgeable about everything under the sun! It's not just about the field of study you are engaged in but also about everything else. His words are most often caustic yet we (OK, FINE, Maybe just Abhi and I) end up grinning like idiots over every statement that's even remotely witty). The making of a doctor is a long, arduous one and that requires sacrifices, tremendous will power and dedication. Somewhere, I guess we're nowhere near that. There's still miles and miles to go before we're even close to getting on the path towards being that person. To be "Somebody" in the medical field is not an overnight phenomenon. It happens after several years of patience, perseverance and practice. It's something that can be lost overnight, though.
  • I've been eating out lately and hogging to gargantuan extents. Morning jogging and baddie sessions have temporarily ceased and must be resumed at the earliest. Hogged twice this week. Tuesday was at Cafe Chillax, Thursday with Adi at Mathura Central and Saturday again at CC.
  • Amazon delivered to Shimoga. :) 
  1. Ganong's Review of Medical Physiology
  2. Basic and Clinical Pharmacology by Katzung
  3. Phantoms in the Brain by VS Ramachandran
  4. Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell
  • And today, We'd been to Gajanur Dam and Sakrebailuru on gaadis. (Separate post about this up next! :D )
  • Will finally be heading home next week (after nearly 6 weeks. The longest I've stayed on this campus) but it'll be for just a few days. Cannot WAIT to see MaPaDi and play with my hyper Bheemi.
  • Oh yes. How could I forget? I'm possibly the BIGGEST Loser in the world. -_- I just don't get it! I have the horrrible, terrible, annoying, frustrating and depressing habit (Oh yes, this was the third time. :( ) of losing money. It just disappears randomly and no amount of searching, scavenging and excavation yields any positive result. I mourned over my loss for a day, carried out a massive search program in my room and the room I frequent most (Hula's room) and yet there was no hope. The worst part is there is no answer to what happened to it. :/
  • 2014 is in its last leg and it actually seems like yesterday that I'd slept off on New Year's Eve after an evening out with MaPaDiMe, Atthe, Mama, Nidhi, Ajji, Poornima Aunty and family at Pai Viceroy.. So much has happened in this year. So many events, so many memories, so many experiences, so much to learn from... 
Oh yes, I could blog further about many more things that have been happening in my not so ordinary life but then Sundays are so rare they can't just be spent on the laptop. 

Off to Camp Laibu! :D

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Melancholic Reveries.

I know, I shouldn't resort to such frequent blogging but maybe I just need to vent and I've always issued the statutory warning that I tend to rant, ramble, crib, criticize and wallow in unregulated moodiness.

When the pain starts, it doesn't announce itself and knock at the doors of your heart. It doesn't seek your permission and be the polite guest, It doesn't bother with such niceties. It comes like the whirlwind that uproots houses from their firm foundations, it barges through your defenses when you're least expecting it to and pierces you with the intensity that leaves you grasping for breath. The pain saps you of all the thoughts you fill yourself up with in the hope of finding happiness. The pain manifests itself as your Achilles heel; as the memories that leave you in despair, at the events that refuse to fade away from your mind, as the little things that once made you mad with joy but now leave you tearful at the mere thought of them, as the gestures that brightened your day once upon a time, as the smallest things that once meant the world to you, as the nostalgia of what is lost forever, as the castles you'd built in the air that have now crumbled into nothingness, as the little bit of infinity you had hoped to have, as the reality what exists, the miracles that may never materialize and as the Happy Ending that is never meant to be.

What could be more painful than that? I'll tell you, it's the task of masking your pain with layers and layers of paint, gloss and glitter, to feel a happiness that is not yours, to feel the happiness of another person when all you feel is hollow and empty, to share that happiness that proceeds to drain you, leaving you like a withered plant. Is it so easy to watch as you give up on what could have been, what should have been and what might have been? Is it so easy to fake what you do not feel? But the one affected most is the one pretending to feel something they do not. It's toxic to nobody but themselves. It leaves you pondering as to who you really are, why is it that you choose to put up the facade when you can embrace what you really feel and voice your opinion. To watch the smile of another, you will often have to shed that silent tear. A silent, lonely tear that shall dry upon your cheek with not a soul to bother about its existence. You learn to watch and teach yourself to be happy for others, you tell yourself not to be selfish, you convince yourself that you shouldn't covet what isn't yours and you master the nuances of concealing your pain. 

Sometimes, it may help to pretend like it doesn't affect you. It is wishful thinking to imagine that the arrows aimed to stab you can make no injury, the barbs aimed at you leave no imprint, and to be honest, that probably works for a while. But suddenly, you can't take it anymore, it crashes upon you, wave upon wave, each with increasing intensity,each inducing the pain you had tried to ignore, until you realize you're drowning.

The worst thing about the pain is the memories. What can be more awful than the fact that the memories that you cherished once are now nightmares? Reminiscing about the moments that once enlivened your spirit now induces a dull aching sensation, worse still, is to confront the factors causing the pain with happiness and joy when all you feel is emptiness. 

You teach yourself to grow stronger, focus on bigger things and live life with more meaning. You tell yourself to steer clear of the thoughts that haunt you, you bury yourself in the things that make you happy, you decide to immerse yourself in the midst of people to forget what you really feel, you let music incite a numbness towards the pain, you adopt a cynical approach to ridicule the things that once mattered to you, you decide that your priorities are something else after all, you convince yourself that your responsibilities weigh heavily upon your shoulders and you shake yourself back into your senses... Until the next time the pain decides to visit you, that is.

Those days were idyllic and perfect,
The memories are pristine and well kept.
The past that was once flawed seems perfect,
As the nostalgia approaches, in the fond memories, I wept.

Every word, every phrase is etched in me,
But it hurts because you'll never bother to see.
Those days were the best but I realized too late,
But it hurts because to you, I was merely a bait.

I learn to smile despite the tears that threaten at the brim of my eyes,
But it hurts because you're deaf to the silent cries.
I decide bravely that it doesn't matter anymore,
But I realize it isn't the easiest chore,
To forget and move on,
To have hope and dream on.

But a day shall surely arrive,
When I shall succeed and strive.
And these memories will mean nothing
But an ugly scar in a beautiful movie called my life. 

Currently addicted to:
  • The Heart Wants What It Wants: Selena Gomez (I don't like the fact that she cries in the beginning though)
  • Welcome To New York: Taylor Swift
It's ABOUT time I start off on some caffeine. Coffee probably induces a sense of purpose in my system. Coffee makes my life more meaningful, definitive and productive. Or maybe I'm just mildly addicted to its stimulating effects.

A Pharmacology test is approaching and it's about time I stop reading about neuroleptics and their mode of action and the scary number of side effects they can cause and read what we might be questioned on, that is Pharmacodynamics and Pharmacokinetics. It's becoming alarmingly evident that I'll have to constantly keep revising the basics that we read in first year to gain a better grasp of what we're learning presently.

Adios, friends. I'll probably be back sooner than you'd like (If I can't resist the urge to blog, that is)

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Okay? Okay.

I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend. 

Ah, yes. Finally. After several failed attempts, the celestial beings finally granted my wish of watching The Fault In Our Stars, several months after reading the movie. The movie was pretty good (as was the book) and touching at several junctures. But the hazard of watching the movie with anybody else (particularly someone prone to high lacrimal activity) is that your own lacrimal activity is stifled. Nevertheless, some of the quotes were truly thought provoking. 

"Some infinities are bigger than other infinities."

"That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt."

"You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you."

And so on. It's a movie that makes you think, ponder, contemplate and yet not make any groundbreaking discovery.

Apart from this I've also watched certain movies I don't take a lot of pride in naming (Ok, not what you think I think you're thinking. [Shush, that makes perfect sense.] But the sanest dialogue was probably this,
"You give me premature ventricular contractions. You make my heart skip a beat."

Sheesh. Seriously? And the thing that cracked me up is that she's a graduate from MIT who then makes it to medical school. (Or maybe I'm the one obsessed with stereotypes. -_-) Nevertheless, a mighty waste of talented star cast such as Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman.

Oh, and Abhi and I have begun the House MD Marathon. (Yeah, I've barely watched a few episodes and it's about time that I amend that.) I've also embarked on the mission to watch Sherlock. 

And if you're wondering how is it that I'm watching so many things, it's because I've finally got my Lappy! :D I'm extremely excited that I can finally blog more frequently and use it for reading up more about what we're learning.'

On the college front, Life is progressing fairly sunnily, lecturers have begun to turn up the tempo and there seems to be a quirky kind of equilibrium setting in. Not the most ideal, but certainly different, certainly a welcome change.

In Microbiology, we basically study all about the microorganisms, like bacteria, viruses, fungi, particularly the ones that are pathogenic in nature. So right now we're still in the basics where we're learning about Culture Media. Basically, bacteria need the appropriate medium to grow and exhibit their properties. One example is the MacConkey Agar medium which is used to differentiate Gram positive and negative bacteria based on their inability/ability to ferment lactose in the medium. Similarly, there are different media to distinguish between different species of bacteria and also to demonstrate a particular bacteria specifically.

And that made me wonder, aren't we also the same? We require the right environment, the right 'culture' to bring out the best in us. We interact differently with the people around us based on our surroundings and we are different under different circumstances. I agree, there's not much sense in what I'm rambling, but this just made me realize that we have a lot more in common with Bacteria than we care to recognize.

Another thought that struck me today in the middle of MicroB lab again is the serendipity of the Gram staining technique. To put in simple words, you take your slide containing the sample of the bacteria to be studied, apply a primary dye like crystal violet, follow it up with Iodine, acetone and then a secondary dye such as carbol fuschin. And this brings out two main categories of Bacteria, gram positive and gram negative, (named after Christian Gram, the man behind the procedure) which show several distinctive properties. My thought is rather random, but then, how did Mr. Gram know that those exact same substances, in the exact same order would yield a method to distinguish between bacteria, that would be employed even 100 years later? The funniest thing is, there apparently no strong explanation for this differential staining technique. My point is, if I took a bacterial sample X and added substance A, B and C and then add the same substances on sample Y, definitely, there would be a difference in the reactions. It's like he worked out the reason for the difference in staining after the experiment and not the other way round. A scientific method is one in which you test a hypothesis by conducting an experiment to prove your point. To me, this looks like a case of the other way round.

It's either that, or I'm turning loonier with each passing day.

 One thing I'm extremely glad about is the fact that I've been exercising regularly. My morning begins with a good round of jogging (through chilly mist) and is followed by a tiring game of baddie. I only hope that this trend is not just a fad but persists longer. After all, it's important to stay fit, considering the high calorie diet we ingest in the mess everyday.

Speaking of food, the other day, we had our own meal which consisted of:

  • Sweet Corn Veg Soup
  • Salad (with sprouts, pomogranate, corn, carrots, cucumber, lemon, chillies, onion, Kurkure and some seasonings to lend it a tangy flavour)
  • Sandwiches
  • Aloo Patties
  • Kheer
Om Nom Nom. :D

Cooking together was a lot of fun and it is highly likely that such an event will recur at regular intervals.

As always, there's so much more that I want to go on about, I want to finish my story, I want to write a poem, I want to buy a few things online, I want to be blessed with amazing metabolism, I want 30 hours in a day to study first year portions so that I don't keep feeling guilty for having passed first year.... But then

The world is not a wish granting factory....

:)

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Living in Synergism.

Why is it that I have innumerable blog-worthy things buzzing around in my head half the time but they all dissipate when I actually sit down and go about it? -_-

There is SO Much going on that I feel comfortably numb regarding most of the things. It's like I don't get to dwell on anything for too long, even if I want to because there's something else equally important that comes to the forefront. Maybe this IS a good thing, but I'm used to lot more introspection than I'm getting to do at the moment.

There are times when you decide set aside everything you feel, bottle them up and fling it away into a Black Hole. It may hurt, it may seem irrational, but at the end of the day it'll make you a stronger person. It isn't the easiest thing; to let go of the things you cling on to, of the things you covet, of the hopes that lie buried deep within you (be it any seemingly unconquerable ambition to any trivial matter) but when you do; your burden gets tremendously lighter. Maybe, it all happens for a reason, maybe as Vaibhav Sir eloquently phrased it, "There is a method in the madness." At the end of the day, it's all about how much importance I decide to give to anything in my life. Of course, it's all easier said than done. Practically speaking, compartmentalizing my thoughts isn't child's play. I ponder, I think, I overthink and yet there seems to be no finality, no answer to the questions.

Like I've mentioned before (although in an entirely different context), it's amazing how malleable our minds are. We (or maybe it's just me) change our perception of people continually and after a while, you realize you have nothing in common anymore. You try to wriggle out of the den you've created around yourself but that isn't easy either. I guess I'm constantly evolving (hopefully for the better) and in each stage, there are different people who will walk in and walk out. Some have remained through several stages, some shall remain forever. The hard part is when you realize they no longer play a part in your life anymore. (An inappropriate example would be the snake shedding its skin at regular intervals) to metamorphose into something new.

At the end of the day, the "I told you so" feeling has been growing stronger than ever. What seemed like a harsh proclamation many months ago now seems like the inevitable truth. Some truths are meant to be bitter, some lessons are learnt the hard way and some mistakes can't be undone. But then again, we are defined by our positives as well as our negatives, our good and bad, our triumphs and mistakes constitute who we are, it makes us what we are...

Non Competitive Equilibrium in Pharmacology is a term applicable for the drugs administered into the system. When the agonist (high affinity towards receptor, high efficacy) and the antagonist (high affinity, zero efficacy), which are similar, act together on the same receptor, it decreases the potency of the drug (DRC shifts to the right) but the efficacy remains unchanged... (or something like that, I'm sleepy) Maybe that's how I wish to be.. Through good and bad.. my response shouldn't oscillate to extremes. I wish to attain that state of balance and constancy in my life and remain efficacious in my efforts irrespective of any other factors.

Moving on from such deep (and dumb) reflections, Microbiology is a a germy affair, Pathology is progressing in snail's pace (Casseous Necrosis is seen in the Lung. But did you know that Casseous comes from the Casein which is the protein in milk which is denatured to Paneer which is known as Cottage Cheese. So that explains why it's known as Cheesy necrosis. Pharmacology discussion classes have necessitated regular reading to prevent flop shows but the graph of Portion Covered Vs.Time Taken to cover it is quickly becoming a Linear graph compared to the initial stages of Hyperbola.

When I'm not dozing with my eyes open during any sleep inducing class, I'm forever searching beautiful quotes on Instagram.







Friday, October 31, 2014

Experiments.

Deepu, BP, Abhi and Me. :)
Blogging with 10% charge remaining. Hence, this is going to be one hurried post.

Back in college, back to the routine (of Lounging in the Library) and back to everything. Well almost, because there certainly have been a few changes. 

For starters, I got a new haircut. (Inspired by our Surgery lecturer's amazing haircut). It was actually an impromptu decision carried out in solo and met with some skepticism from Ma (understandable, considering how Long Hair is the prerequisite for any woman according to her) but then, Hair will grow back, but Time cannot be reversed. Hence, such experiments should be conducted at the right age. :P

New roommates are another shift from last year. Hoping for good times ahead with Nammu ma'am and Ehra. Apart from this, I'm currently battling a disease. The primary symptom is that I remember random events from my life and a weirdly inappropriate smile appears at all the wrong times. This disease has no known cure, except of course to have a better control of where you let your thoughts wander during any soporific class.

Currently addicted to Tum Hi Ho and Kabhi Jo Badal Barse (the remixed versions) by the singer Arjun. 

College has been going on as usual. My affinity towards my phone has reached alarmingly high levels. (I should probably stop taking my phone to college, I've blossomed into a big Snapchat addict, a regular Hiker and an intensive Instagrammer. (All to make up for the time spent on WhatsApp -_-)

In this week, we got to see our first patient. A 27 year old woman with a recurrent swelling in the breast. We took her case history and examined the swelling. We met her again after the surgery and wished her all the best. For our first case, we were pretty excited and a major part of the process is about effective communication to elicit information from the patient. You'll need to take the patient into your confidence, listen to their complaints, their story, even if it doesn't directly pertain to the case and assure them that eventually they will get better (even if you aren't sure of it yourself). The toughest moment came today in the afternoon when we met her after the surgery. She broke down into tears and expressed her worries whether the swelling would recur again. We consoled her and assured her that she would be fine. This is our very first case, years later I might look back and feel sheepish/foolish/lame/stupid at my observations.. But then, the patient is not just another "case", they are individuals with a family, a story and are vulnerable. They require support and comfort too, apart from the medical care provided. 

Today happened to be quite an eventful day. Clinical postings in the morning were suspended and we assembled in the Lecture Hall. The route to the lecture hall was studded by security guards posted at regular intervals interspersed by clumps of nurses at the main entrances to greet the VIPs of the function. The event was to mark World Mental Health Day (Oct 10th) and was presided by the DC of Shimoga (V P Ikkeri) and the main man behind the event was Dr. Ashok Pai, a prominent psychiatrist, native to Shimoga and known for improving psychiatric facilities throughout Karnataka. Several other emiment persons also attended the event,

As I've heard on innumerable occasions, they spoke about the need to spread awareness about the importance of mental health, eradication of the stigma associated with it, improved mental health facilities in all districts and the lack of qualified doctors and psychologists to treat the increasing number of psychiatric patients. (The statistics are quite grim, one in four persons is susceptible to any mental health disease, one in every family may have a person suffering from a mental health disease..) 

Apart from this, we also witnessed a show from students of a school for Mentally Challenged children. The children performed exceptionally well and left many of us teary eyed at their enthusiasm, exuberance and their excitement. Somewhere, I was confused whether one must feel "sad" for them. True, we encouraged them, cheered them to perform better and applauded them for coming on stage and perfoming in front of a crowd, but is there the need to "pity"? Maybe not. Maybe. It's probably a very sensitive topic and I'm not very convinced I have a solid argument for either case, so I'll let it rest. But one thing can be said for sure, it certainly made the children happy to come on stage, as it made us, :)

Adios, dear readers (if any). It's about time I wind up and write Forensic Records for Vindhya (In return for Chocolates, what else? [Wait, am I turning into a greedy pig?!?!])