Bliss.

Bliss.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Monologues.

I see two possibilities. I'm either going to blog with unwanted frequency or I'll close the blog and call it a day.


As ugly as within
Currently listening to:
  • Neenillade (Ondu Motteya Kathe)
  • Just Like Honey (the one from Lost In Translation)
  • Lag Ja Gale : different versions by various singers but come back often to the original by Lata Mangeshkar (I am a boring old woman who listens to the same songs on repeat until they ferment in my brain)
I'm also glad that I finished reading:
  • City of Joy (definitely an interesting read, an eyeopener into the lives of the slum dwellers of Calcutta, the happiness amidst the suffering and the ray of hope amidst illness and poverty.
  • Marley and Me (can I please get a doggo now?)
  • Oliver's Story (Finding love after the loss of your loved one. A sequal to Love Story by Eric Segal)

Anyhoo its back to college and I'm once again in surgery postings. This time we've been divided into 3 units of 10 students. So yesterday we saw two different stages of presentation of the same condition: Carcinoma of the Stomach.

First we saw an elderly female patient with history of abdominal pain since 20 days. Apart from this, she gave history of passage of dark colored stools. Examination did not reveal any findings. Based on the age and the complaints, the professors suspect an advanced stage of gastric cancer and have requested for endoscopy for correlation.

Next we saw a case of a 35 y/o female from Shimoga who was operated for gastric carcinoma. She had initially come with pain in the abdomen after meal and complaints or regurgitation of food. Suspecting PUD, endoscopy was performed. Here, ulcers were detected and the biopsy confirmed H.pylori infection and dysplasia.


After treatment with Anti H.pylori regimen, the patient did not experience relief of symptoms. A repeat biopsy was done and a second opinion was sought which confirmed the gastric carcinoma. The patient was operated at Kidwai Bangalore for a gastrojejunostomy and had come for a check up with the tube. A mother of a young girl, this lady will now require chemotherapy once her lab reports are complete and satisfactory.


Life often throws us into unexpected turns. And there isn't anything we can do about it but to face it head on. Which is why, when the road is clear, the path is straight; keep going and don't dawdle.


Today I saw the surgery for varicose veins for the first time. Its called the Trendelenberg operation and they ligate the tributaries of the GSV and then introduce a stripper, ligate the perforators and then remove the stripper (along with the shrunken vein) in one Strong tugging movement. It went on for quite some time because according to Gopinath Sir, 'It was a jungle inside with fibrosis and inflammation'. 


When the OT goes on for far more than your stomach can wait, your stomach decides to protest. And loudly, the rascal. In fact, today was the orchestra of several hungry stomachs singing in unison. The best way to deal with this is look straight ahead at the table with such conviction that even the ones next to you will believe that it possibly the patient who is hungry and not you!


Watched OMK with Abhi and had Dinner at Anmol midweek. I think I would like that to be the highlight of my week. I just remembered this thing that we had learnt in programming/ JAVA during high school. Something about memory allocation. 


I don't remember it well enough but when you delete one value and add another instead, it occupies the same 'space'. Or something along those lines, I can't get the exact words. I don't think we can do that. You cannot erase a memory you wish to forget by creating new memories. Hah! Life is not so simple that you vapourize an unpleasant experience with a poof!

You accept it, you acknowledge it and you rectify it for what it's worth. You can move farther ahead by acceptance than by denial. Sometimes. :)



Tata!!


Monday, July 17, 2017

Consent.

Postponing this moment since quite some time now. I still don't know if I can put down everything on my mind.

Home for a week. Highlights include learning to drive in Appa's car under Lokesh's amazing guidance. I was really beginning to enjoy it. Spent quite some time bonding with Di especially since she couldn't make it to school. 

I wish I could be around for Divya and wish I could answer all her questions from whether Pierre Curie would have also died due to radiation exposure if he had not met with an accident, if Albert Einstein and Shiva were vegetarians, if Pastuer invented vaccines for diseases other than rabies and also if Tintin was a Hindu... :)

Yesterday Amma packed chapathis for the train journey because I'm usually famished by the time the train reaches around 9pm. I opened the box to see the familiar rolled chapathis with sugar and ghee. I smiled to myself as I began to munch on it. Rolled sugar chapathis and I have a long history. For the most part of my school life, these were my companions during the lunch break. 2 sugar chapathis and 2 more with chutney pudi. On days that Amma finished cooking the lunch in the morning, the loyal chapathis were replaced by exotic Chitranna, Fried Rice and even the rare Pulav. Irrespective of the breakfast at home, this was always my tiffin for school. I vividly remember, one day in high school when Rachana asked me why did I still eat in rolls like a primary school kid. Unable to give an answer, I had come back at vented on Amma for rolling the chapathis. 'I'm NOT  a Kid!', I had tried to convince her.

After the offending roll was banished for a while, it made a comeback at DCFL occassionally. Since I had to leave pretty early (7.15am), I often ate in the canteen.

And after all these years, when I saw two good old rolls of sugar chapathis tucked neatly in the box, it was a nostalgic moment indeed. What wouldn't I do to have them everyday just like the old days! Who cares of they were in rolls or folds, it was still my mother's cooking.

I don't know why I feel this way. I don't like it and I constantly contain every single emotion that threatens to reveal itself. Under the guise of other preoccupations, I ignore the noise in my mind, the uneasiness gnawing at me from the inside and the message from the distant past now looms in front as a reminder.

My dreams can't be stolen from me. Dreams of happy days and starry nights, dreams of flowery pathways and mistletoe, dreams of everything that I need and want; they are mine.  Every image that I created, every castle that I built in the air, every hope, every desire is mine and mine alone that cannot be trespassed upon without my Consent.

When words fail and you chose to let your brush do the talking...

Today's catharsis
:)

Saturday, July 8, 2017

C/O Indian Railways.

The next day was the BLS workshop that was conducted by members of the AHA. The Profs were intelligent, interactive with a sparkling sense of humour and even good dramatic skills. It gave a sneak peek into what the teacher student relationship might be out there and I enjoyed every bit of it. We even had written and practical tests to clear before we would be certified as Basic Life Support Providers.

After we explained our predicament of an early train to Agra, the organizers agreed to hasten the examination process for the 10 of us and we got out in time, rushed to the hostels, packed our bags and made our way to Nizamuddin Railway station about 20 minutes away.

Laymos that we were, we should have sorta chilled because trains never really arrive on time (atleast in the North). This train journey was definitely memorable because a vast part of it was solely dedicated to my leg pulling and subsequent amputation (with a fishmouth incision -_-'). What with cute uterus and Philips tubelight jokes, I still crack up at all the shit we spoke. Later on, we began playing dumb charades and antakshari much to the amusement of the co passengers.


When in Agra, you will be fleeced. Just remember that. There will be people right from the moment you step out of the grubby station who will pounce on you with offers that seem like a good deal but with hidden agendas of their own.

Our hostel (Bedweiser (hihihi) was at quite a distance from the station so we (25 of us) took 4 taxis and reached our destination; famished and fatigued. We struck up a deal with the same taxiwallas for the next day that would involve Agra Fort, Taj Mahal and Fatehpur Sikri and back to the railway station by 4.30 and after much negotation we settled for an amount. After this we headed to the nearest (and only open) restaurant and wolfed down a few morsels before crashing into our bunkbeds by midnight.

We woke up after a few hours (4am), refreshed and then headed towards the much awaited mausoleum of love; Taj Mahal. I must admit, it felt so much more appealing in the pristine coolness of the morning; devoid of the thronging crowd and appreciated at a slight distance. We spent an hour or so, admiring the monument and enjoying the relative solitude that it offered.



After this, our cunning drivers took us to a desolate dhaba on the highway (no doubt that he had an agreement with the owner) who served the driest parathas and watery lassis after the longest wait. Our next destination was Fatehpur Sikri and we began our tour guided by a local even as the sun glared down mercilessly.

A few dargahs and many tombs later, we were walking through the palace of JodhaBai and it was indeed an awe inspiring moment; to imagine the royalty who lived in these royal palaces, a princess educated in art and culture, the menfolk upon their horses in all their armoury, the sound of horses racing back after a battle and the opulence in architechture and lifestyle.. another era indeed. :')



After this BP and I headed to Domi for lunch (bliss of something appreciable to the tummi), got back to Bedweiser to pack up (25 guys and girls in about 6 rooms) and then we rushed to the railway station to catch our 4.30 train.

Did I mention that we never learnt our lesson? Our amazing train arrived a good 4 hours late! Exhausted though we were, sleep was scanty. The next morning is one that I will remember. I woke up around 6am to the sight of the green fields of Punjab, cool and pleasant weather and I added some music for good measure.
We passed through Ambala, Chandigarh and Ludhiana but the beauty of the morning persisted. Somewhere in the middle of this long and endless journey, I found my moment of peace.

We reached by noon and the 4 of us took a rickshaw to Wow Backpackers (in some gully of Namak Mandi) while the others deposited their suitcases in the cloak rooms of Amritsar Railway station. We rushed, changed and after some confusion and angry Hindi yelling at the owner for not arranging a cab (by meehehehehe), got an autowalla to take us to Attari Wagah border and then drop us Back at Golden Temple for an agreed sum. While we skipped lunch (after having skipped an organized dinner and breakfast the following day), the rest of the group had lunch and directly proceeded to Attari without checking into the hostel.

The scene at Attari cannot be described; it must be felt. Thousands of people thronging into the arena, from little ones feeding from their mothers to age old couples holding hands to resist the rush of the crowds. Cheeks painted with the tricolor, patriotic songs blaring in the background to outdo any sounds from the opposite sides and young ones running across with the national flag in hand and sheer pride on their face.

But the real prizewinner is the display of military power by our soldiers in the Beating Retreat. The majesty and grace of their moves, the strength in their stride and the grim determination etched upon their faces after years of rigorous training are a sight to behold!

After this, we egged our driver to go faster and made it to Golden Temple. Glowing and resplendent against the backdrop of the starry sky, this place is a lesson in humility and service. We were lucky enough to be served at the Langar. It is indeed a sobering moment as you hold out your hands to receive the sofest roti you have known in days by the volunteers here.


With our batteries down, we depended on the kindness of the localites to help us find our way back to the hostel; pack up and once again rush to the railway station. The train was thankfully not too late and thus began the penultimate leg of our journey. May I take a moment to explain how damn amazingly well I can yell at pushy women who dare to push me and my friend while boarding the train; in chaste and pure Hindi until they finally (decided I was a raving lunatic) let us pass without much scuffle.

The next morning we refreshed, took the direct metro to the airport and feasted for a while before we boarded the flight back to Namma Bengaluru. After two more hours in the Vayu Vajra, it was finally time to sink into the cushions of my own bed, the comfort of my parents home and the efforts of my father's cooking.

Chalo Dilli!

The journey began on 14th of June, we boarded the train to Bengaluru and set off towards KIA after a brief halt at 338. Somehow there was a new excitement in flying, given that we were all by ourselves!
After a journey peppered with Bhindi and Chapathi by Amma, we landed at IGI Airport only to be slapped across by the hot and humid weather of the capital.

Nevertheless, we acclimatized slowly, made our way to the Aerocity Metro Station in a bus where we all got Metro Cards for INR 200 which would basically cover our travel expenditures in the coming days.
With a suitcase and backpack each, we boarded the metro, then changed lines to the Yellow Line and deboarded at the hustling Rajiv Chowk. From here we took autos to LHMC (which was around the maze called Connaught Place, something we slowly began to figure out in the course of our stay)

Tired (and hungry AF) we reached, registered and were shown our rooms. Now LHMC is a government hospital that was started over 100 years ago. Please keep this in mind when you imagine the condition of the girls hostels. Abhi BP and I shared a room along with a few other creatures I do not wish to speak about. The ancient rooms had attached washrooms that resembled dungeons with their gloomy lighting, cobwebs and barely there rickety doors. Nevertheless, we settled down and set off for day 1 of sightseeing.

We covered India Gate and Chandni Chowk on day 1 but our appetites were yet to get a true taste of Dilli but for the 'Dahi Bhalla' that is a legacy.

For some reason, Abhi and I could not join the Uber on the way back (passenger limit) so we did this fairly daring thing of walking through creepy gullies to take the last metro back to Rajiv Chowk and then making our way back to Hardinge dodging creepi doods and asking helpful rickshaw bhaiyyas and not getting misled by Google Maps.

The next day was our suturing skills workshop, quite similar to the one I attended at JNMC except there was the smiley Dr Manju Puri who took us through the sessions and here again, we had resident surgeons giving us some hands on exposure.

Post workshop, we headed to Jama Masjid via metro, rikshaw gaadi and on foot. The last leg of the journey was through gallis filled with hawkers, curious bystanders, worshippers and plenty of pickpockets and 'smugglers' as we were warned. Tall and imposing, it was teeming with visitors owing to the ongoing Ramzan season and it made for a photo opp. After this and after much debate we took the metro, changed lines, took an auto again to the thrift shopping enclave: Sarojini Market. After my previous experience with shopping here, I did not hazard another attempt here save for a dreamcatcher, an amphibian soft toy for Di and some new funky super comfortable T.



Dinner was Dominoes at the nearby mall and we headed back to the hostel after a tiring day. The morning of the presentation arrived and after battling the unkind effect of Dilli breakfast on my poor palate (Aloo Aloo everywhere!), it was time to face the music.

The examiners were the HoDs/ senior doctors in their field and asked a lot of questions (unlike my previous presentation in Kolar). I answered a few, accepted that did not know a few and tried valiantly to defend any inconsistencies that they attempted to uncover. BP was with us the whole time and she managed to give some real time answers to a few must know questions by her quick work. The others from Manipal, Jipmer, MAMC and north eastern college also had many interesting cases to report.

After this, we set off again on our next venture. Agrasen Ki Baoli and Jantar Mantar were the monuments we visited on Day 3. Dinner was a peaceful affair; Dominoes (for Sumzzu) and Saravana Bhavan (The South Indian's answer to all food woes).


After this, I got to work on my slideshow for the next day and the news that two entries from our college made it to the final round made us very happy indeed.

The next morning, Govi Varsha and I (I am the eternal third wheel) headed to Akshardham after breakfast at Haldirams and a metro ride on the Noida/Vaishali Lane. Despite the sweltering heat we did not fail to admire the beauty of the temple complex and the intricate architechture.

After this, we headed back and I braced myself for the upcoming presentation. After a barely there lunch of plain rice (papad-esque rotis are not acceptable to me, you see) it was Time!

The presentation went fairly well and Dr Sharda Patra was the second judge along with the medicine HoD(?) from the previous day. The uniqueness of the subject (Psychiatry) got their attention and my USP was that detailed history taking is still the crux of medical diagnosis.

After a seemingly long wait, the results were declared and I had made it to the second place. The first place went to MAMC for a case of chromosomal abnormality (probably the first recorded case in India and among a handful worldwide) that was well researched and presented.

After the prize (and cash :P) distribution, we (Abhi BP and I) headed to Dunkin Donuts at CP for celebratory donuts and the icing on the cake was a south indian Thali at Saravana Bhavan (again after jumping the queue and sneaking in under the aegis of parcels) served by Kannada speaking annas.

(Do you want me to continue?)

Monday, July 3, 2017

DopaMine

Where do I begin?
I hope to blog about the Delhi Agra Amritsar week sometime soon. I had a nice time with Bheemi albeit just for a few days.

I also want to talk about the day trip to Kundadri and Shringeri.

But I currently want to rant about my space or the lack of it. I feel the urge to dissociate from all these acquaintances that leech on and make meaningless conversation about how different our lives are and yes medical is not like engineering so I will be busy so I can't really meet anyone so I just make fake commitments these days and hide from social media for fear of being detected when I do go home for a precious few days.

I want to go away from this place. Who are 'my people'? Has my definition changed or have they changed themselves or I need to stop thinking such a species exist?

Create your own happiness. That's probably my new mantra (A high like none other as I have discovered) :P

At Fatehpur Sikri
Gajanur Dam in all its glory
The hills are calling...
Sometimes I wonder; am I the person I want to be? I dream, I desire, I develop.
True, there are times when you need to pause and question yourself. Perhaps the discontentment stems from this absurd need to appeal to XYZ's supposed ideals (which is again my own imagination). It is your own principles that you need to remember. But what if they alter with time? Some are necessary; some not so much. Use your wisdom to differentiate between the two.

Songs on my mind:

  • All I can think about is you : Coldplay
  • O Sona Tere Liye
  • Afreen Afreen
  • Ik Vaari Aa
  • Wonderful Tonight: Eric Clapton
I also happened to watch 13 Reasons Why and I think it was rather disturbing on so many levels but more on that later.

I finally read Love Story by Eric Segal and now I'm paving my way through City of Joy by Dominique LaPierre based on the metropolitan city of extremes; Calcutta.


Have faith; stay strong and stay positive. Tomorrow is another day. :)

9th term begins. Time to make countdowns and start panicking proli.