The hospital that trained a thousand Chan's

I don't think I have fully appreciated the history my family has in Winnipeg. As I rode the escalator down to the ground floor of the airport, I got a strong sense of deja vu. I've been on the same elevator before. But in the past, there had always been crowds of family waiting to greet me.

My Dad's family made Winnipeg their first home when immigrating from Hong Kong. Virtually all my uncles did degrees at the University of Manitoba. My parents used to ditch us in Winnipeg to live with Grandma and Grandpa while they went travelling. I also remember Uncle Max taking us out for slushies and getting mad at me for not eating all the zucchini Grandma tried to feed us. (Which, for the record, was a ridiculous amount of zucchini. I think standards have changed. I got in trouble for politely asking for less zucchini after two weeks STRAIGHT of the following menu:

appetizer: zuchinni soup
main course: zuchinni stir fry and zuchinni stew with rice
[Keep in mind that we usually ate zuchinni soup noodles for lunch. My grandma used to grow the most obscenely large zuchinnis in the backyard.]

Nowadays, kids can go ahead and eat or not eat anything they want. I swear. Where's the discipline gone?!)

My family has left Winnipeg nowadays. Gone to other, warmer climes.

But as I'm walking around the hospital today, I can't help but think that I'm strolling the same halls that my Dad and my uncles walked as medical students back in the day. That I'm acting as a human retractor in the exact same ORs. It feels like an odd kind of homecoming.

From the mouth of another...

The same words coming from two different people can have a very different impact. This is pretty obvious I think.

"Bend over." changes drastically if the speaker is a doctor, a police officer, a friend (a reeeeeeeaally good friend maybe?) etc...

It's natural and reasonable for us to interpret the meaning of words using things like context, the expertise of the speaker, our relationship with the speaker etc..

But I was thinking that this cuts us off from a lot of potentially good advice.

I'll give two real life examples:

1. I'm on the airplane. The fellow sitting next to me has acted in a way that makes me think that he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed (We can go into prejudice and whatnot some other time. We all love to judge. It's human!). Anyways, I'm setting the clock on my cellphone as our plane descends. He leans over to tell me (in none too friendly a voice), that use of electronics would interfere with the plane.

My first reaction is to tell him to stuff it. I'm a pretty affable fellow however, so I do a bit of small talk while I fiddling with my cellphone.

Afterwards, it got me thinking a bit though. What exactly DO cellphones do to planes/hospital equipment etc? I really have no idea. I dismissed his advice, but it may have been good advice. Who knows?

2. A friend told me today that I need to "live a little" and "take more risks". This advice raised my hackles a bit. First of all, I feel like I "live a LOT" never mind a little! Second of all, the advice seemed out of place coming from that particular person. I suppose it's fair to mention that our history makes advice giving a sensitive area.

anyways.

But back to the matter at hand, it's gotten me thinking a bit. Could I be living more? And could I be taking.. not MORE risks, but more WORTHWHILE risks? Intriguing thoughts that raise intriguing possibilities! Maybe it's about which part of your life you take risks in...

And all I had to do is step back. And try to consider more the advice itself, and less the person giving it.

This woulda saved me a lot of arguments with my parents growing up.

Speaking of which:

Happy Birthday Dad!!! You get cooler every year. For realz.

Oh dear.

I left Vancouver today.

The peaks of the Rockies are higher than the clouds. Isn't that something?

I give Vancity two ginormous thumbs up. up up up! I think the quality of life there is outstanding. Great weather, great people, great food.

When I left Vancouver, I was wearing sandals. As I left the airport in Winnipeg, I realized that I could see my breath.

Oh dear.

I found the house I'm staying in without too much trouble. It seemed to be in a rougher area of town. I asked the landlady about this. She told me I shouldn't walk around alone at night.

Oh dear.

I haven't had dinner yet. It's dark outside, and food is several lonely blocks away.

Oh dear.

Apprehensive

I went to Sushi buffet with my housemates for dinner today. The fish does somehow seem better than in Ontario. Especially the tuna, which was melt in your mouth luvly.

Anyways, it was a combined Korean grill/sushi place, and among the things they gave us to grill were these nice looking mussels. I joyfully threw a mussel onto the grill. After what seemed like a long time, I threw the mussel into my mouth. It was cold. Apparently, our grill wasn't working all that well.

I was reminded of the time I got sick from a raw oyster in Hong Kong. As I remember, I woke up midway through the night in an almost delirious state of nausea.

I'll be heading to bed soon. Here's hoping for the best.

Sleep camel

I wish I could store sleep. That would be awesome.

I'm finishing up my time here in Vancouver. I'll be going eastwards for my next elective. This is not so good, because the time change won't be working in my favour. Getting out of bed in the morning will be very very difficult.

I feel that there used to be a time in my life where I'd gut things out, when I'd stay up as late as it took, when I'd pull an all-nighter if need be.

Nowadays, I find myself thinking "Well, if i'm this tired, I won't be productive anyways...", and then I retire gratefully to bed. The mind is NOT willing, and the flesh is also weak!

Planning for possibilities

All we're really doing is planning for what might happen next. Seeing as how time appears to flow linearly (at least to our very human perceptions), not any of us can say with any certainty that the sun WILL rise tomorrow. Or similarly, on a more mundane level, can I say with 100% certainty that my alarm clock WILL go off, or that my sandwhich meat WON'T go bad etc... etc...

So really, all we're doing at any instant is planning for the next instant. And our plans depend on what we believe is most likely to occur. I'm planning to go to sleep soon. But that is because I have judged that events that would preclude this (ie, Sudden appearance of alien invaders, or Swedish Ski team etc..) are exceedingly unlikely to occur.

This is all somewhat tangential. My real point is that among all our infinite mundane plans, there sometimes appears a ... really excellent plan. Or rather, a plan that would make a most wondrous possibility a very firm reality. And those brief moments, when the realization that a previously unthought of possibility could become a most wondrous reality... well, those really are some of the most precious moments of all.

Sabbaticals

There was this ENT doctor I bumped into last year. He was a graduate from McMaster, and he had also done this enrichment year thing. He said it was one of the best decisions he made.

Anyways, I dropped in on him a couple of days ago. He told me that a couple of years ago, he took a year off, and he and his family lived in Spain, where he learned to speak Spanish and play the guitar.

Like he said, what does it matter whether you retire at 62 or 63?

It makes me happy to think that this could actually the first of many enrichment years that I'll be taking. I get a bit claustrophobic when I think about the number of years of training I still have yet to do. But there is no need to feel like that. Your life is really your own to control, and your options really are limited only by your imagination.

Say I wanted to be a ski bum for awhile. I remember one of my uni friends doing this in the middle of our undergrad. At the time, it just seemed inconceivable to me. But when I think about it, it would be pretty cool. And if it'd make you happy, you should do it. Life passes so quickly! You may regret not doing it someday. Ah, to be young again.

Congratulations big boy!

This past Thanksgiving weekend, the very first of my high school chums got engaged. I've known Vik since grade 3 I think. And look at him now.

I remember I used to tease him quite a bit. "Vik the human body part", I used to call him. It doesn't really make tons of sense. I like to think that I'm nicer than I used to be. It's interesting to think about our time growing up, because I think of him in continuity. That is to say, I don't perceive the Vik I know now to really be that different from the Vik I knew in junior high. It's all just Vik to me. Although, this is clearly not the case, since he's grown into a person that I would hardly think to poke fun at. Although I have gotten nicer...

And now look. My narcissm knows no bounds. A post that began with the intention of congratulation one of my oldest friends as he takes his last steps away from boyhood has once again been subnverted to air my views and grievances. Tis the nature of blogs maybe? Easily corrected I think...

Congratulations Vik and Karen! Couldn't have happened to luvlier people. Let's get this party started!

I'd like to be this cool someday.

Chromeo-needy girl!

I was thinking...

...that we should all hang out with people who let us be ourselves.

So that social masks are unnecessary.

I'm not saying this would be a guaranteed good idea. But it's worth trying, I think.

When you ask someone to marry you...

aren't you saying that you'd rather talk to them over anybody else?



I had dinner at Joda and Jenn's yesterday. I'm mistaken for Joda sometimes, but I can't fault people for mixing up their tall, skinny, long necked chinese guys. Anyways, I know Joda from med school, and he and Jenn are newlyweds. Steph and her intimidating friend Lynn were also in attendance, as they are in town doing electives. I think Jenn used to live with Lynn or something. It just goes to show that everyone really does know everyone.

It occurred to me that marrying someone means you're agreeing to spend the vast majority of your leisure time with this person for the rest of your life.

I'm starting to think that maybe looks DON'T actually matter that much, and we should all just look for someone who's conversation and thoughts we can't live without.

I heart books

I think the amount of information we commonly process nowadays is astronomical. I really don't think humans were evolved to handle the data we do.

My sisters live right next to a bookstore. I'm finding that I rarely visit it though. When I take breaks from my research or from studying, I want to switch my brain off, and a bookstore is just not a good place for this.

I visited the medical bookstore this morning, and bought myself a neat little set of flashcards. Curiously enough, my first urge when I got to a computer was to try and search for online reviews. I obviously think highly enough of this product that I'd spend money on it. Why would I want to have some random person's opinion of it? It seems silly to need to search for validation.

I'll leave you all with a medical mnemonic (That's what's on the flashcards).

Causes of chronic renal failure:

Glomerulonephritis
Lupus
Analgesics
Diabetes mellitus

Systemic vascular disease
Hypertension
Obstruction
Polycystic kidney disease

More feeling, less precision!

I went for a chat with the medical school's career counsellor today.

The bottom line is that I'm not being explicit enough about my accomplishments. Or rather, that I'm not talking enough about the results of my activities, and my successes. And this is after our initial talk, where she told me to use more "action verbs". It appears my Asian instincts towards humbleness will need more blanching out.

She also said that I talked better than I write.

Imagine that! I always thought I was much more articulate in print.

I have yet to start writing any of my personal statements. I told her that writing for me is quite a slow meticulous process. She suggested I just throw stuff on paper. Get the ideas, the concepts, the gist of it in writing. And then, worry afterwards about the precise wording of it.

I think this is an idea worth trying. Time for a more spontaneous, less ariculated Simonscapes! For a little while, at least.

My sister is brilliant: part 1

My sister came back from a band try out earlier this month all distressed because she didn't play up to par.

She said that no matter how much she tried, she couldn't get hardly any sound from her clarinet.

Now, I was sympathetic (Which is really quite charitable of me, since she has a penchant for practicing late at night.), since I am quite familiar with the jitters that accompany live performance. (I've played at numerous recitals, and every one has been a nervous, ulcer-inducing affair.)

Being a plucky girl, my sister had asked to try out the next day instead, and was settling in for an evening of tooting (Which she has a penchant for doing, with or without her clarinet.).

Lo and behold she found herself unable to make a single noise, even in the comfort of her own home!

It was then that she sought to investigate further, and, after peering into the barrel of her instrument, fished out a large, wadded up piece of tissue.

I promise I didn't do it. For real.