My mother came to visit me during the weekend.
After a God awful working week, just to see her smiling looking at me while waving when I was parking my car in the house made me soooo happy.
I guess I never knew how much I missed her. Or my dad. Or my cats. Or KL for that matter.
I understood it was going to be hard. It's just that when it happens to me that I realized how amazingly hard it would be.
Maybe that's why so many of my uni friends before this opted to stay near their homes, because they would have their social support there. No matter how hard it may be, they have someone to listen to their problems.
What do I have?
I have my relatives here don't get me wrong, but they couldn't comprehend fully as much as how my parents would. They would never understand how hard I tried to get to the place I am today. And how many people are just waiting for me to crumble down to the ground.
I can't expect my parents to fly in every other week. Unless we have our own share to Malaysian Airlines for that matter. But I guess calling and texting does help. To a certain extent.
To tell problems that I face to my colleagues, especially those from my university would also not be fair to them as well. They are also learning to cope from day to day, just as I am. And sometimes, when one is depressed, the others get depressed too. I guess when everyone is so overworked, and social support group is almost non existent, emotional breakdown could be infectious.
Every single day I wake up, I push my self to get out of bed, to go to work. When I come back, I push myself to bathe, and to sleep. I never really have time to do anything else. Maybe I'm very slow at adapting to new situations? I don't know either.
And what makes me very sad is the fact that at times those specialists ask me questions, such as about hernia, or colon ca or some sort like that, I couldn't really answer with confidence. Where did all my self esteem go? I keep on wondering. In my mind, the answer keep on playing again and again, but I guess there is no connection from my mind to my mouth, so in the end, I do not say what I played out in my mind, instead just keep mum.
Then the specialist will say the answer, and in my mind I would be stating to myself, I knew that answer! Just that I didn't have the courage to answer it. Maybe I'm afraid of answering wrongly. But if I don't have the courage to make mistakes, how am I going to move forward right?
I'm just too tired of being scolded for other people's mistakes. In our ward, they say it as sabotaging. Or in other words, plain SABO.
Sometimes I feel they do sabo me, giving me all the hard cases. Pushing me to go to the operation theater when no one else would, and the surgeon is in a foul mood. So I'm practically going there just to be bombarded with questions about how things are not done. :(
Life as a houseman is not a glamorous thing.
They say it's hard.
Actually it's very very very very hard.
Medical school is seriously a piece of cake compared to houseman life.