Tuesday, October 8, 2002
No title...
I have no desire to post my thoughts on the web at this point in time. However, somebody (and he knows very well who he is) insisted that I update. So, since
he insisted, I will type -- but not really because he insisted; more because now I feel I might as well spit out these thoughts that have been
clogging my brain cells for days and hope I can get a restful night sleep for once.
I have been walking through a haze over the past week, ever since a truly "life-shattering" evening in an hopsital emergency ward. Maybe, in reality, it was no big deal,
but in my mind, I keep replaying the events of that evening over and over and over again.
Tolerating the sight of blood and missing limbs... making critical life-or-death decisions... These all seem like a piece of cake compared to the most difficult
aspect of working as a health professional: dealing with impatient, unruly individuals.
I walked out of the hospital last week more shaken than I've ever felt my whole life. And all because of one single confrontation.
I did my job to the best of my ability. I held myself back from using "unprofessional" profanity... I made sure I kept my tongue in check. Yet as I replay the whole scene in my mind,
I wonder if there was any way I could've handled it better. Or maybe my voice took on a hostile tone even though my words were anything but hostile... Or maybe my facial expression
showed anger and defiance... It's hard to tell. I wasn't watching myself from afar.
Being called "little girl" by a complete stranger, especially when you're in your 20's. Being told "you don't know anything" when you never claimed to know everything, but were trying hard to
help refer the person to a more reliable source. Being spat at with the words "you're just a volunteer" as if that's the smallest, dirtiest thing you could ever be... And then watching
the person storm out of the building, making you feel like it's all your fault...
I don't control the line-ups coming into the emergency ward. I am not allowed to bump you up to the front if you do not look like you're going to keel over and die within the next 24 hours. If you have
a problem with the line or the wait, don't blame me.
I've dealt with many impatient individuals before. I've heard them curse and literally punch holes in the walls. I've been there to take the rants, the anger, the worry, the grief. I've been
there when a person has thrown objects out of frustration. Yet never before have I been directly blamed for the workings of the hospital.
And I keep thinking that I could've handled it better...
And people keep telling me that I shouldn't take it so hard. But you can't say "it wasn't personal", because it was.
And still I keep wondering how I could've handled it better. Or maybe I was never meant to be a doctor if I can't even handle something as "trivial" as this...
And suddenly, I felt like I was no longer a decent human being...
Convocation
And after a restless night, I felt no desire to dress up in decent clothing, put on the regalia of SFU colours (incl. the faculty of science red-with-thin-gold-border hood), and attend my convocation ceremony.
Although the sun came out, I somehow ended up sitting at the end of a row, in the shade where I froze for 2 hours. The people in my line-of-view were huge, and I couldn't see anything that was happening on "stage".
I drifted off during the speeches... I posed for numerous pictures with my fake, plastered smile. And I just wanted to go home...
Earlier that morning, I couldn't pull my eyelids open long enough to pop in my contacts, partly because I was so tired and partly because my nails got in the way. I got my right one in (after a hard-fought struggle), but the left one
was hopeless. So I finally gave up and went to remove the right one again. Yet I kept pulling, and scratching my eye with my nails, tugging on the surface of my eyeball... and the darn thing just wouldn't come out. Then I realized something...
it wasn't there anymore. I threw on my glasses, looked around frantically... and the contact was just totally gone. I looked everywhere, but it had just vanished. So, not only did I have to wear my glasses with sore, red eyes, but
I lost my contact. *sigh* And I was tired...
Friday night
Maybe I would have never survived the weekend without Friday night. For a couple of hours, I was somebody else. It was definitely an evening I'll never forget. Completely mindless, carefree energy... fun and laughs... with
7 wonderful and amazing individuals... I was a little scared that the whole high-school/SFU combination might be a bust, but thankfully everyone proved me wrong.
Yet, during the ride home, something inside of me just fell apart all over again...
And all of the sudden, I felt that nobody cares anymore... not even me...
Lost...
I fly through my days in a haze. I am lost... Today, while in my own little world, I accidentally punctured my finger with forceps (or "tweezers", if you will). Half an hour later, I puncture another finger in the same way. The dull ache sears
through my hand as I type...
Yet still my mind remains locked away from reality, in a whole other dimension. I wonder about who I am, and where I am going, and if I am going there all by my lonesome self... and still I wonder why I can't shake off the single event
that occurred last week in the emergency ward...
Monday, October 14, 2002 (morning)
Make me forget...?
These past few weeks have sucked the life out of me and left me in a deep sea of depression. Just as I thought it was all getting better,
and the horrors had almost dissipated into nothingness, it only got worse. And now life at home is even more unbearable than usual...
Nevertheless, I am determined to stand on my own two feet. I owe a million thanks to Simon for "listening" during my little spiritual struggle.
No, I haven't exactly talked to Him yet, but I will... Thank-you for reminding me of His love for all of us. It's exactly what I needed. And I owe
another million thanks to Al for being so patient with me over the last little while, particularly as I face my newest and strongest challenges (you know what
I'm talking about... don't you? It all only gets better from here...)
Memory can be such a cruel thing... yet it can be so wonderful in so many other ways. Perhaps it is not the memories that hold us back from
that pinnacle of pure happiness, but rather the choice to dwell on those memories and to let them control our entire existence. I wish to forget, yet I can't...
So I choose not to forget, and maybe I can find the strenght to move on from there. Maybe...
I spent the long weekend determined to find peace within myself. I wrote pages and pages of obscure, frustrated thoughts, hoping to transfer all the angst of the last
little while from the depths of my memory into the ink flowing from my pen. Then, I found some of my old diaries from my days as an ignorant lil' schoolgirl and read through them.
Well... I am definitely not the same person as I was back in high school, or even elementary school. It's kind of strange, but those books each seemed to centre on a different guy and the relationship (either strong
or barely-existent) I had with him... Was I really that guy-crazy?? I believed in romance, in "love everlasting", in knights sweeping beautiful maidens off their feet and riding into the sunset...
And maybe I still believe in those things! But I'm definitely not that same person anymore. Perhaps I've matured, despite my conviction that I'll be a naive and young lil' girl forever.
The world becomes a little darker as we grow up, especially as the bitter truths of life invade on our dreams and the fantasy world that so many of us imagine as young people.
Nonetheless, I still believe there is a lot of good in the world. I still believe that there is good in every single one of us.
A few years back, I wanted to throw out the old diaries because I no longer wanted to remember -- I wanted to forget ever being so ignorant and so young. But at one time, I remember
Blenda telling me to keep them. So I did, for whatever reason she gave me (I can't remember off the top of my head). And I thank her now for that.
My belief in my wildest dreams and views of the world have changed very little over the years, but I am older and wiser. As I look back, I realize that I survived all the trivial lil' trials and tribulations
of childhood and adolescence that were so devestating to me back then, even if they only concerned lil' schoolgirl crushes. I survived.
I will survive. I will make it through my latest challenge, with the help of my dearest friends, as usual. And I will not forget...
Monday, October 14, 2002 (evening)
My Wish List
Am I materialistic??? Is it wrong to make a list of all the "extras" that you believe will make your life a little more manageable?
Well, anyway, after weeks of "special events" (i.e. my 21st birthday and convocation), my wish list was minimized... but only for a little while. =D
During the long weekend, I've spent some time trying to figure out what I definitely need, what I sort of need, what I just want, and what I don't need at all...
when I move out. Yes, suddenly, my determination to get out there on my own has grown so huge, it's going to happen very very soon.
So, main item on my wish list: a place to live!!! It's got to have accesible laundry facilities and kitchen, be fully furnished... and, well, I'll go from there. =D
Otherwise, here's my list "revised":
PC.
Palm Pilot.
Radio/CD/cassette stereo. No matter how small my budget, I can't live without my music. Are y' crazy??
New violin.
SFU sweatshirt.
Mirrored shades.
Keyboard. The music kind.
Subscription to Cosmo.
Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul.
Chicken Soup for the Christian Family's Soul.
Chicken Soup for the Christian Woman's Soul.
Anyhow, the list will definitely get longer as I start figuring out what I can take with me from home and what my new place doesn't have, but that all depends on
finding the place first! So wish me luck.
Tuesday, October 15, 2002
9-25
About 2 weeks ago, I was channel-surfing and came upon an interview with Christopher Reeve. Watching the immobilized Superman valiantly struggle with his speech was extremely heart-wrenching to watch,
but inspiring nonetheless. He can now move one of his fingers at will. Sure, that may seem like no big deal to all of us who are fully motile, but to somebody who can barely even breathe without concentrating
on each inhalation, that is an incredibly big deal. Mr. Reeve is living proof that hope still exists in our world, no matter how small.
Through that interview, I learned something else that absolutely fascinated me. He spoke about the "9-25 club" of which he is a part. Y' see, there are many celebrities who share his birthday:
Barbara Walters, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Michael Douglas, Will Smith, Heather Locklear, etc. So, every year, on September 25th, one of them throws a little get-together for all of the others. Thus, he referred to
it as the 9-25 club. And you know what? I belong in that club! Aurgghh... just wait until I'm famous, then I'll be rubbing shoulders with the best of 'em... ;)
Dez's 9-25
For this 9-25 girl, the day didn't go off as I would've liked. I had plans a few months ago to celebrate the day in style, yet the plans came crashing down once I realized 9-25 was a Wednesday... and Wednesday means
hospital. Sooo... plans were pushed back a week and two days. =P Besides that, I felt sick to my stomach all day after downing 2 doughnuts, a huge slice of chocolate mousse cake, a grilled-cheese sourdough sandwich, my
mom's infamous "throw every unidentifiable Chinese medicinal fungi into hot water" soup, a fizzy Smirnoff (and might I remind you that I'm not too fond of carbonated drinks when I'm sober?)... and more *groan*. Of course,
every special occasion wouldn't be complete without my parents getting into some kind of dispute. And, to end the day, Al passed on news from his mom that has left me worried (in my prayers, hon...) So no, it wasn't a good
day at all.
However, Al did help me salvage the day somewhat. ;) 3 pounds worth of my favorite Jelly Belly Beans (minus the buttered popcorn, cinnamon, and pear)? Crazy crazy... And the "golden" gift I cherish close to my heart... *muah*
10-4
I'll never forget Friday night. It meant more to me than anyone could've known. Perhaps the timing was terrible, either at the end of an exhausting midterms week for some or smack dab in the middle of midterms rush for others... but everyone just being there meant so much.
For me, it was sort of a "go crazy" night to celebrate both my convocation and b-day. I felt completely intoxicated almost the entire evening -- and that was before the Mike's I split with Elana. =D Sushi and cosmic bowling...
I would still like to know who ate all my California rolls! (ahem... Simon?) ;) Oh, the never-ending tuna -- poor Kev! Hehheh, what a good sport... All the air-hockey goals Simon scored ;D... The heated competition between Al & Eric
-- until I started cheering Eric on... The simulated heated competition between me and Pegs during the last frame (sorry about that! but you got a strike -- you go girl!) And the energy and spirit Blendy, my bestest, brought to the evening (gosh, I missed you sooooooo
much! yes, must do again. *hugs*)
Yeah, it was all good... very very good.
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