Oh. What a week that fled by. And today, its monday. Haha.
The first week of my first run (Surgery & Oncology) had just been so-so. Actually, I had spent far too much time figuring out where I was supposed to be at one time, running from one place to another and expertly dodging some other poor souls lurking at the corridors. Heh.

A few times, I caught my breath and paused in midtrack, wondering of too many things. A few times, I asked myself what I had really gained so far apart from multiplying blisters and sore calf muscles. A few times, I questioned myself what I had really learnt, because there seemed to be none. A few times, I thought hard what I had really achieved so far in the clinics and wardrounds and operating theatres - and I came up with a blank mind. And that was pretty disturbing. And frustrating. Because most of it boiled down to knowledge, of what I was supposed to already know and what I was supposed to pick up on.



By the third day of the week, I had grown exhausted. Mostly from running around and still uncertain of a lot of things. I was a tad overwhelmed. And by thursday, which was my team's acute day, I finally got a glimpse of the reason I was there in the first place. I was terrified that night when I saw a patient vigorously shaking (rigours) in his bed - death was playing in my mind. And observing appendictomy later on at the OT, I couldnt help feeling midly scared. When my acute finished that night at 11pm, I couldnt help heaving a sigh of relief.

The next day as I strolled into the ward at 8am, I paused briefly and glanced at the man's bed. Shamelessly, I had actually expected that he was gone. And to my great relief (and disbelief), he was propped up in his bed, reading. Later on that day, I picked up my courage and talked to him. He didnt remember any of the previous night's events; of how he was violently shaking in his bed, of how he minimally respond to anyone calling him, of how everyone in the team just rushed in by his side to stabilise him, of how my reg attempted so many times just to get his ivline in, of how he looked ... scary .. to an inexperienced medical student like me.

But seeing him looking much better that afternoon, I finally realized that sometimes miracles do happen. I used the term miracle rather loosely here, when pedantically speaking, the miracle is medicine (God's willing). When I walked home that friday, it dawned on me why I intend to study this; because I want to make miracles happen. Miracles do happen, if you believe in it. Have faith. =)