Lilypie Third Birthday tickers

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Every year got fish?

So, in the past year MDH and I have successfully kept 3 out of 4 potted plants alive.

After a month of deep contempation and deliberation, we have decided...

To get an aquarium!

Yay for us! We just spent 2 hours browsing through the local pet store this evening, and upon returning home, we purchased our aquarium, a biOrb, from eBay.

I am very excited.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

A Chinese New Year Request

Happy Chinese New Year, everybody.

This weekend, I will be visiting the Outlaws and cooking the reunion dinner. However, the Outlaws are not very adventurous eaters, so I will probably be making Hainanese chicken rice (nice and bland) and maybe a grilled salmon salad (in place of the yusheng). Additionally, I will be using my limited knowledge of chinese to paint Chinese New Year banners for Mother-OL's nursery school classes.

So, all of you in Singapore with access to the usual CNY goodies, please please eat a double portion on my behalf and leave me a list of all the wonderful CNY tidbits and dishes you had this year. I will live vicariously through your gastronomical adventures! Yay for me!

Tym's list
jadeite's list and photos
ketsugi's photos
a.l.'s photos

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Book me me

Here are the current top 50 books from What I Should Read Next. Bold the books you have read. Italicise the books you might read. Cross out the books you probably won’t read. Pass it on:

The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown (I'm a sucker for conspiracy theories)
The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger (Needs a slap)
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy - Douglas Adams (Know where your towel is!)
The Great Gatsby - F.Scott Fitzgerald
To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger (Beautiful and sad)
His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (The last book in the trilogy made me hate myself for reading it)
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter 6) - J.K. Rowling
Life of Pi - Yann Martel (I'll never think of indian food the same way again)
Animal Farm: A Fairy Story - George Orwell (Four legs good!)

Catch-22 - Joseph Heller (Everyone gets a share!)
The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien (I read it after listening to the BBC radio version. This book smells of baked potatoes.)
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon (excellent)
Lord of the Flies - William Golding (My dad's Literature text...and later, mine too.)
Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen (Watched the BBC series soon after - Colin Firth is yummy!)

1984 - George Orwell (The stuff of nightmares)
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Book 3) - J.K. Rowling
One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez (It's on my Amazon wishlist)
Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden (This book smells of toffee)
The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini (I like the title)

The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold (Intriguing. But made me ill.)
Slaughterhouse 5 - Kurt Vonnegut (probably too violent for my tastes - anyone know more about this book?)
Angels and Demons - Dan Brown
Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk (Probably too violent for my tastes)
Neuromancer - William Gibson (Ditto)

Cryptonomicon - Neal Stephenson (Dittoditto)
The Secret History - Donna Tartt
A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess (I am drawn to books about the mind)
Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte (I have an aversion to all Bronte novels.)
Brave New World - Aldous Huxley (I couldn't sleep for days - it's like seeing the future)

American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Ender’s Game (The Ender Saga) - Orson Scott Card
Snow Crash - Neal Stephenson
A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving (I read 'The World According to Garp' - couldn't understand it, maybe it's too deep for me.)
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis (The man is a genius)

Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides (Read the first chapter in the bookshop - sounded promising)
Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell (Read the first chapter in the bookshop - sounded pretentious)
The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien (The man is a genius)
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte (This is not a good book to buy a girl for her 6th birthday. This is probably why I can't seem to bring myself to read it proper - too many failed attempts.)
Good Omens - Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman (I may read it if MDH buys it)

Atonement - Ian McEwan
The Shadow Of The Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon (Just ordered it from Amazon!)
The Old Man and the Sea - Ernest Hemingway (I only understood it when I reread it 10 years later)
The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood (It was required reading for a class)
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath (Seems like required reading for all women)
Dune - Frank Herbert (This book smells like cinnamon)

from: riceandsoup

How do I deal with it (II)

Desensitisation is a very slow process. In my previous post, I wrote about how I got used to working with dead bodies and being around dead things.

Another part of my medical training taught me how to depersonalise a patient - cutting up dead bodies is one thing...cutting up live bodies is a totally different experience.

During my surgical attachments, we often had the opportunity to assist the surgeons by holding optical equipment or metal retractors (used to pull stuff out of the way, so that the surgeon can get a better view).

The first operation I attended was a hip replacement. However, due to the age of the person having the replacement, it was done under spinal anaesthetic. This means that the person is paralysed from the waist down and cannot feel anything below the waist. Additionally, a sedative was administered to keep the patient relaxed. My job during the operation was to keep the patient occupied.

A green sterile sheet acted as a screen between the patient and the surgeon. The patient could not see the surgeon and vice-versa. I, however, could see both the patient and the surgeon.

Hip replacements are ghastly. By the middle of the surgery, we were all sliding about in pools of blood. The patient, however, was totally oblivious to what was going on - she was in fairyland as far as she was concerned, never felt better in her whole life, wonderful wonderful and you are all darling angels, absolutely darling.

I held her hand and smiled at her. In the corner of my eye, I could see chips of bone flying all over the place from the surgical saw.

Here was a laughing rosy-cheeked lady, with grandchildren in college and a lazy grey cat named 'George' whom she rescued from drowning a lake when he was a wee 'un, who was stroking my hand and telling me about how she'd met her poor dear husband...and we were recklessly turning her body into a battlefield with all the chopping and slashing and parts of her flying every which way. The dichotomy of it was horrifying for me. In the end, I had to leave before the end of the operation because I felt sickened.

Sometime after that, I was assisting in an operation to remove a diseased kidney. My purpose was to hold organs out of the way using my hands, which you might say was a more messy and involved job. The patient was asleep and covered by the green sterile sheets so that all I could see was a square of skin. During the entire operation, I had my hands in the depths of her abdomen but I never saw her face. At the end of it, I had her kidney in my hands, and it was horribly scarred and deformed, and I felt...nothing.

The patient under anaesthetic has as much feeling as the table he or she is lying on. When we talk about general anaesthetic to a lay person, we always talk about sleep. "You will be asleep the whole time," we say, reassuringly. This is not entirely true - a person who is merely asleep would never let anyone cut into them with sharp scalpels. Anesthesia is the art of successfully bringing someone to the brink of death and keeping them there for as long as necessary.

So, this kidney operation I attended...well, it was like working with a cadaver, a lifeless object. An entire patient, transformed into a 30 x 50cm block of meat by green sheets and the right drugs.

It's very easy to depersonalise a body when you have had no relationship with it and when it has no face. And by depersonalising a patient, I could concentrate on the task at hand because I had no feelings for them. It's all a matter of perception, I guess.

What is blood when you think of it as red water, rather than the life substance of a person?

Even now, when I'm trying to do something bloody or painful to a patient, I think to myself "it's for their own good" and shut out their cries and screams and anything else that reminds me that I'm dealing with someone who can feel.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Memoirs of a Geisha

So I watched this movie with MDH today.

The cinematography was remarkably beautiful. However, the script didn't seem to deliver. I guess that is what happens when you get chinese-speaking actresses to deliver their lines in a language that is foreign to them. I felt like they were struggling with their diction. Gong-Li was excellent as always (but I'm a fan, so maybe I'm biased) and she made Zhang Ziyi look pathetically stilted. MDH was horrified - he rather liked Zhang Ziyi since her 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon' days...but she didn't really have to show much character - most of her work was in her swordplay.

I've read lots of reviews that complain about 'westernising' the Japanese culture as portrayed in the film. Arthur Golden, as well researched as he may be, doesn't seem at all Japanese to me. In fact, I've often thought that the main character, Sayuri, held rather western ideals.

All the same, the book is amazing and the film somehow appears to miss the point.

Monday, January 23, 2006

How do I deal with it? (I)

I've been asked many times before how I cope with my work - having to witness death and sadness as part of my daily routine.

I don't know if this is the same with all doctors, but certainly for me, part of my medical training involved desensitisation.

On my first day at medical school, we were brought to our anatomy department and shown a fresh cadaver. A dead man lying on a metal table. He exuded a faint smell of formalin. His skin was pale and waxen. There were fifty of us and we crowded around him, each of us looking at the other, wondering who would be the first to faint. We put on our gloves and laid out hands on his still intact body.

He felt cold, and his flesh was hard. I pressed down on his skin and left a small indentation. It was like touching a slab of plasticine that had been left out overnight. I looked at him and wondered how he died, what kind of life he had led, why he had donated his body to medical science.

There were other cadavers in the room, and we worked in shifts during our anatomy day, so that there were only 3 or 4 of us to a body at any given time.

Every week, the smell of formalin grew stronger and the cadavers grew more shrivelled and dried. Our cadavers were stripped of skin first, then muscle. Then we opened them up to learn of the secrets of the body from within. There were blackened lungs from a lifetime of smoking, swollen livers from the excesses of pub life, thickened heart valves from the ravages of time.

Then one afternoon, my friends and I decided to do some last minute revision in the anatomy hall. I picked a table at random, and then pulled off the green protective sheet that lay over the cadaver. What I saw made me jump backwards in shock, bile rising up my throat.

Leaning forward, my friends gasped in surprise and stared at the body.

"It's still got it's skin on."

We looked at each other in silence. And in shame. Because "It" was, in actuality, "She".

And we realised that, in the space of one year, we had already lost something that we could never get back.

In one year, I had stopped recognising cadavers as dead people. I had already forgotten.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

The day after night shifts

I'm too tired to cook and I ache all over.

MDH has ordered in pizza and is now playing 'Prince of Persia 2: The Sands of Time' on the Playstation 2.

We will eat pizza and watch animes.

Then I'm going to have a nice hot bath. With candles. And a heavenly scented bath ballistic from Lush. And a sea salt scrub from Sanctuary.


Friday, January 20, 2006

It's all good four some.

(Updated to include the completed meme links)

So, I got team-tagged by Tym and Trisha. There's a lull in the department (as often happens on a night shift) and the only patient I'm looking after tonight is an elderly lady with a nosebleed. As I type this post, she is sitting across from me obediently pinching her nose, leaning forward and holding ice up to her nose bridge.

4 jobs you've had in your life:
A&E doctor - always coughing
Data entry clerk - eye strain
Librarian - perpetual sneezing
Research assistant - hand cramps

4 movies you could watch over and over:
The Fifth Element (It's totally green)
50 First Dates (Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler - who can resist?)
Rush Hour ("What is it good for? Absolutely nothing!")
Moulin Rouge (Ewan McGregor has a beautiful voice)

4 TV shows you love(d) to watch:
Friends (Phoebe was my favourite)
Smallville (Superman rocks!)
Taiho Shichauzo ("You're Under Arrest" - the anime that got me hooked on Japanimation)
Oshin (I started watching it one weekend when I was ill and couldn't stop)

4 places you've lived:

4 places you've been on vacation to:
Bali (the number one honeymoon destination!)

4 places you would rather be:
At home - snug in my bed
Phuket - on a massage table
Florence - in a cafe
Cambridge - on a punt

4 of your favourite foods:
Hokkien mee with small prawns and pork ribs
Spaghetti bolognese with parmesan cheese
Grilled pork loin with pineapple rings
Dark chocolate gelato

4 websites you visit daily:
Yahoomail - addicted to email
BBC - I don't have TV so I got to keep up with the news somehow
Jadeite - Because she has a good heart
Intueri: To contemplate - So that I remember to think about patients as people

Okay, my elderly lady's hand was getting tired, so the nurses fashioned a makeshift peg out of tongue depressors and surgical tape. It is clipped over her nose, and now she has fallen asleep. In a minute I will have to go and wake her up and send her home, but in the meantime...

4 tagged:
Thirty Pounces

Thursday, January 19, 2006

2005 Medical Weblog Awards

Head on over to Medgadget and congratulate the winners!

I'm quite impressed that a grand total of 14 people voted for me, 2 of which were MDH and myself, so here's a big hug for my 12 supporters! Thank you so much!


Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Presence of mind

Now this, this is what all parents should do for all kids with cuts. Follow her example, everyone. She has Presence of Mind. She is a hoopy frood who knows where her towel is.

Don't rush into A&E without running the wound under cold water and at least covering it with a bandage or cloth. This is bad.

Don't carry your child kicking and screaming into A&E still dripping blood and enveloped in a fine layer of mud and grit. This is bad.

Don't shout "I need a doctor, stat!" at the top of your lungs whilst carrying your kicking and screaming child. This is also bad.

Don't yell any of the following phrases near your child: "Bleeding to death!", "Look how much blood is coming out!", "Broken skull!", "Head split open!", "I can see the brains!". This will make your child kick and scream even more. This is very bad.

And in the immortal words of the Douglas Adams, "Don't Panic".

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Baffling money matters

"I smoke 20 cigarettes a day and drink 4 pints of lager a night."

On average, a pack of 20 cigarettes costs about £3. So a month's worth of cigarettes sets one back about £90. And a whole year's worth of cigarettes would be £1095.

A pint of cheap lager down here on the south coast of England is usually £2. That would come up to £240 a month, £2920 a year.

£4015 a year is a heck of alot of money to spend on vices.

I can't understand how some of my patients complain about being poor and broke, but they can still afford 60 Lucky Strikes a day and 8 Stellas a night.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

What is the point...

...of getting medical advice if you're not planning to follow it?

You have an infection, doctor gives antibiotics, you don't take the antibiotics, and your infection doesn't get better. What a surprise.

And so you trundle back to the doctor and tell her that the infection is now worse, then you tell her that you spent the last three days antibiotic-free. Did you actually think that you would get better just by watching the antibiotics? Antibiotics are not gold bars, okay? There's no need to hoard them or start a collection and I doubt they are worth anything on the black market.

So you come back to the doctor and demand treatment. What do you think the doctor is going to give you now for your infection?

A scolding, that's what. I may be small, but I am fierce.

If this was a Japanese Anime, you would have been called a 'baka' and then smacked on the head with a gong.

If this was a Monty Python sketch, you would have been crushed by a 200 tonne weight and French people would have farted in your general direction.

If this was the Muppet show, you would have been slapped with a herring and forced to tap dance.

But it's just an A&E department. All you did was get a stern look and some sharp words. I hope I made you feel like a complete waste of time. Because that is what you are.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Reading material

Originally uploaded by
Sunshine follows me.

These two books came in the mail for me today. I only ordered one of them, but guess which one I decided to read first?

Anyway, I have to start studying for exams again, which is why I purchased that horrible blue book (just looking at it makes me nauseous) in the hope that a new textbook with shiny smooth pages would induce higher levels of motivation for self-directed learning.

I can't believe I will have to dedicate my precious reading time to Mr Kalra's Essential Notes.

Actually, thinking back over what I've read over the past year, I've probably only read three truly excellent books:
The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffeneger
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
American Gods by Neil Gaiman

I've also read a couple of good books:
The Photograph by Penelope Lively
Birds Without Wings by Louis de Bernieres
The Algebraist by Iain M. Banks
The Earthsea Quartet by Ursula le Guin
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J K Rowling
The Language of Baklava by Diana Abu-Jaber
Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman
The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith

Then I read some books because I felt that I ought to but were a torture to finish because I lost interest halfway through (sounds pretentious, huh?):
The Motorcycle Diaries by 'Che' Guevera
Vanity Fair by William Thackeray
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K Dick
The 2 1/2 Pillars of Wisdom by Alexander McCall Smith

I've also gone through some books that made me feel like I should rip out my eyes - not because they are badly written but because I either felt really sick whilst reading them or because I felt irritated with myself for reading them:
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
Red Rabbit by Tom Clancy
A Maiden's Grave by Jeffery Deaver
The Coffin Dancer by Jeffery Deaver

I think I should never EVER read a book where the author's name is printed in a larger type than the title of the book.

I guess 19 books in one year is pretty good going, considering that I tend to reread books that I really enjoy several times. But I guess the luxury of snuggling up in a chair with a good book is one I'll have to put off for a while.

It's terrible. I should be able to kick back and schmooze during my spare time after work. I mean, look how happy my feet look in this picture on the left! Happy and relaxed! Reading a fun book! By a pool! In the sun!

I guess my R&R time for this year will no longer be 'Read and Relax' but 'Revise and Revise'.

Now if you'll excuse me, Mr Kalra awaits my attention

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Entering motherhood

Young lady, listen to me.

Before you come to the A&E for Emergency treatment, please please PLEASE learn your menstrual cycle. When was your last period? One month ago? Two months ago? Six months ago? Don't tell me you can't remember and then in the same breath tell me that you have regular periods. If you've missed a period (or five as the case may be), say so.

Don't you wave your acrylic nails in my face, girl. And look at me when I talk to you. What, you got too much eye shadow on, you can't look up or something? That's right. Don't you roll your eyes at me; I'll roll your little head out the door. Now listen up.

Before you come into hospital demanding to be seen for a variety of symptoms including back pain, stomach bloating, dizziness and feeling faint, increased urinary frequency, palpitations, nausea and vomiting, recurrent headaches, lack of energy, missed your own pregnancy test. You can buy test kits over the counter at any convenience store. This might save you a long and boring trip to the hospital and you can cry and sob over the phone with your girlfriend/boyfriend/parents afterwards in the privacy of your own home, instead of being told by an unsympathetic doctor in a cold and clinical environment.

Do you mind sitting back just a little, I'm becoming overwhelmed by the scent of cigarettes and alcohol on your breath.

Oh yes, and if the doctor asks you about your sexual activity and you lie about it, only to be told later that you are pregnant, don't act all surprised and shocked. You stalk into my department wearing stiletto heels and a micromini skirt with matching micromini shirt and you expect me to believe... well, go ahead and shake your seventeen bling gold plated crucifixes at me for all I care, I'm still not going to tell the pope about the miracle of this immaculate conception.

Look, I know you're angry and upset about this new revelation, but you have no right to shout at my nurses and call them names. Stop swearing now, there are children about. Stop it now. Behave yourself, woman! Don't you throw things at the other patients!

I think you need to leave this department. Right now.

My head hurts

Need. Panadol. Water. Sleep.


Monday, January 09, 2006

Waiting for...what?

I often feel like I'm living for the evenings or weekends that I spend with MDH. In between those sporadic moments, I'm waiting.

It's the sort of feeling that one gets whilst sitting in a train, travelling from one destination to another. Where the mind goes blank and everything outside blurs and flashes by the window. I'm waiting for something, for something to happen, or for something to change.

I think I've been waiting a long time. At least, it feels like a long time.

But I'm not entirely sure what I'm waiting for. I want to say that I'm waiting "for my life to begin". But I'm not even sure what that means. Additionally, that sort of statement implies that I'm not living at present, and I surely am...I think.

I wonder how long this will last.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Things to do at the end of the shift

10 minutes left to go until the end of my shift and I have just finished sorting out one last patient. There is one patient waiting to be seen in majors and a new doctor arriving in 10 minutes time.

I could:

1. Chat with the nurses or the other doctors.
This increases morale and makes the working environment much more pleasant. Happy doctors and nurses are nicer to patients. It's for the good of the community!!

2. See the patient who is waiting in majors.
And end up staying another extra two hours in order to sort out their various medical problems and refer them onto the relevant specialities. What a martyr. Meanwhile, the new doctor checks his email for a whole hour. I resent the new doctor and mutter curses at him under my breath.

3. Wander round to minors and to see one 'quick' patient.
End up stoically seeing three patients and staying an extra hour. A real champion. Suffering in silence and all that. Bring on the tissues. The nurses are nicer to me after that and bring me chocolates whenever I work in minors.

4. Do menial tasks for the other doctors on duty.
Like order blood tests, put up drips, write out Xray cards, prescribe analgesia or dipstick urine. The other doctors are nicer to me after that and return the favours whenever they can. During my next shift, they willingly see the screaming maniac while I see the cute baby. :)

5. Look busy by faffing about.
Did I say 'faffing about'? I meant by doing useful things like repeatedly checking blood results on different computers, constantly reviewing patients on the observation unit, holding the hands of crying relatives, walking round the department mumbling and clutching pieces of paper, writing highly detailed discharge summaries and the like. Everyone gossips about how conscientious and compassionate I am. The nurses say nice things about my handwriting. The patients on the observation unit are impressed with my dedication and write me thank you letters.

6. Find the most senior person on duty and wheedle them into letting me go home 10 minutes early.
Everyone lives vicariously through me. The most senior person on duty is now the hero of all the doctors in the department.

Personally, I prefer the last option.

Which option would you choose?

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Kids nowadays

She was small for her age, bright eyed with sleek blonde hair neatly combed into two bunches and tied up with shining purple ribbons.

She stood in front of me, shyly fiddling with the hem of her denim pinafore and picking at her tights which were candystriped pink and purple in the the tradition of Pippi Longstocking. There was a small bruise on her forehead where it had made contact with a glass sliding door.

I smiled at her in what I hoped was a non-threatening manner and was rewarded by a brief flash of pearly whites. I turned to her mother, a large humourous lady with flyaway hair, to reassure her that Pippi hadn't broken her crown and wouldn't require the usual vinegar-and-brown-paper treatment. Mrs Longstocking laughed and gestured with her winter-chapped hands, patting her faded teeshirt to show me her fear, then clutching anxiously at her threadbare patched trousers.

I glanced back at Pippi, whose outfit had the texture of the brand spanking new, and I knew where all the household expenses were going. She had kept silent during my conversation with her mother, interrupting us only once to ask for her waterbottle.

Pippi, being a typical toddler, managed to take a swig from the waterbottle only after spilling a few drops of water on the floor and on her clothes. She looked at me apologetically and reached out with one dimpled hand, pointing at the tissue dispenser on the wall. I passed her a few tissues and she wiped her mouth fastidiously.

Then she crumpled the tissues up, squatted down and wiped the floor, before running to the dustbin to throw them away.

Her mother smiled at her proudly, and they both waved goodbye as they walked towards the door.

I walked back to my desk to finish writing up the discharge summary and was halfway through it when I felt a tug on the back of my scrub trousers.

"Tank oo, Doctor!", said Pippi.

"Why, you're very welcome!"

Her mother was waiting patiently at the exit of the A&E and Pippi, pleased with herself, ran to meet her.

I grinned at them as they left. So there is hope for the future...and this really proves that one does not need to be rich in order to have good upbringing.

My heart swelled within me.

I gotta get me one of those.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Vote vote vote!

The polls for the 2005 Medical Weblog awards are up - please vote for me under the 'Best New Medical Weblog' catergory. Hurray!


In other news, my A&E consultants have decided that I've been a good doctor and are going to create another A&E post for me so that I can stay on for another 6 more months. Nothing is set in stone yet, but I feel very encouraged! At least they think I've been doing a good job.

Also, something happened today that made me very glad to be a doctor. I finally feel like I've done something worthwhile and I can proudly say that I've saved a life (two, actually! In one day!).

An auspicious start to the new year, eh?


I watched King Kong with MDH yesterday. I wasn't planning on watching it in the theatres, but I chatted with my mum over the phone yesterday and she was raving about Giant Vampire Bats and Giant Leeches and got me all excited. Then I raved to MDH about Giant Vampire Bats and Giant Leeches and got him all excited, so we giggled and ran off to watch the late late showing.

It was entertaining, beautiful and sad. I laughed during the funny bits. I cried during the sad bits. And I also managed to embarass MDH by screaming at random intervals during the action sequences.

"GODZILLA!" I would scream, flailing my arms in the air, "AQUAMAN!!!!"

"No! No Godzilla! No Aquaman!", MDH would hiss.

"Go, go, Power Rangers!!!"

"Will you be quiet!" MDH would growl, stifling a giggle, "No more Pepsi for you!"

Heh heh heh.

This is probably why he never takes me anywhere.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Happy 2006

Happy New Year from the A&E department.

Here I am, surrounded by a dozen or so drunk people, all puking on the floor. An excellent start to the year, I must say!
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