I've been L-A-Z-Y!

No, actually, I’m just dead tired.

All I have energy for after work is to take my dinner out of the box, poke 5 or 6 holes (5 if it’s a square container, 6 if it’s oval or rectangular) in the plastic film covering the food and stuff it into the microwave.

A shower after dinner.

Some reading or TV.

Then it’s bed time.

At 10pm.

*clap clap for BabyMinz*

Work’s not physically demanding and I spend less effort on cooking (seriously, how effortful is microwaving ready meals?) so there really is no good reason for my tiredness.

Maybe it’s the quality of sleep I get, though. See, in Aberdeen, I had frequent nightmares. Here, the nightmares are gone but for some reason, I often wake up at 2am. At that time, I feel really refresh and rested. I feel like I could get up and go to work.

But no, even though my placement hours are flexible, they are not that flexible.

So, I go back to sleep and wake up again at 6:30am, feeling utterly tired, like I haven’t slept at all.

Very strange. Because I never had problems with my sleep before. At home, I was a super sound sleeper, no nightmares and pointless wake-ups. They can have karaoke competitions in the void deck, a whole funeral procession pass by, or wild cheering from the school kids having their annual track and field event in the stadium nearby and I would sleep right through. I get up when I have slept enough.

Since I’m feeling like such a grouch these days, CJ got the brunt of it when he called just now. He called to tell me that he is planning to rent a car the weekend I was visiting to bring me around. I was perfectly fine with that, looking forward to see the sights of Durham.

Then he told me he is intending to ask his friends along. And because I was not feeling very sociable that moment, I was not nice. I think I gave him a whole 5mins tirade on why I wasn’t particularly keen on that idea, that I didn’t know his friends, his friends didn’t know me blah blah blah.

Part of that was me just being crabby. But part of it also has to do with what I do. I meet people everyday. People that I don’t know. People that if I met on the street, I would not even think of having a conversation with. But because of the nature of the job, I have to talk to all these people all day everyday. Now, that’s fine. I’m definitely not anti-social and I quite like meeting new people. In fact, my highlight of today was meeting a new patient who told me he’s been to Singapore when he was young and he actually did some time in Changi Prison. Haha…

But sometimes, especially after a particularly long week at work, I just want to be around people who I can be "comfortable" with, not be conscious of social etiquette to smile or nod or say "uh huh", and not make "small talk".

It’s like, you are at a party where you know nobody else. You go from person to person, being sociable, getting to know people and end of having the same or variations of the same conversations with each person: "Hi, I’m XYZ, what’s your name?", "Oh, what is it you do?", "Yeah, the food’s pretty good." Now, imagine you’ve been partying ALL WEEK. Do you feel the need to "leave the party"? Back to your own home where you can kick off your shoes, sit with your legs crossed whatever which way, yawn if you feel like it and gulp wine (no, it’s your home and you don’t have to sip wine if you don’t want to. You can drink straight from the bottle if you so jolly wish.). Get the idea, now?

Ah well, he took all the crap I gave and we compromised. Eh, now that I think about it, we didn’t compromise! I gave in and agreed to his plan! I think because I was too tired to argue and I mean, he IS making a great effort to be a good host and entertain me. And to be fair, a few hours with his friends might turn out to be enjoyable…

10 P.M.

Who: The girl from the flat below

Remorsefulness: 0/100

Response Time: A very impressive 5mins 25secs

Response Team: 8 firemen :))))) and 1 huge fire engine

Fireman’s Greeting: So who’s the guilty one this time?

------------------------------

Quotable Quotes:

Guilty Party - It’s stupid that the fire alarm is just above the stove! Can’t even cook an egg without the alarm going off!

Security - That’s not the fire alarm that above the stove. The fire alarm is in the common area.

Fireman - Be careful next time, young lady.

------------------------------

Conclusion: A very bad cook who's in denial.

A Letter to Santa...

Dear Santa,

It’s exactly one month to Christmas! The shops are all filled to the brim and are selling lovely decorations and toys! I’m so tempted to buy them all but I know they are not made by you or your elves. These manufacturers have just stolen your designs and mass produced it for sale without even paying you royalties. Piracy is theft! And so I do not buy those decorations and toys…

I know that you're a super busy man and if you're like the rest of us, you probably do things last minute too. So, to save you time, I'll just tell you how I’ve been a real good girl this year.

1. I’ve attended all my lecturers since uni started, except for one day where I was so stressed about the arrangements for my placement that I could not bring myself to crawl out of bed to go to class. But you would understand that everyone has some of these days, wouldn’t you?


2. I have not fallen out with any of my friends and did not scold anybody that didn’t deserve it.


3. I did not make any racist remarks, on my blog or otherwise, either.


4. I know I still spend too much money but now I have a valid reason: the cost of living here is higher.


5. I did stop making donations to a certain organization because I thought it wasn’t fair that they had a gold tap and I didn’t. Yes, life is unfair. But I don’t see why I should make it more unfair than it already is. The money I would have donated is now used to partially fund my phone bill. I think it’s reasonable considering I’m so far away and do need to keep in touch with friends and family. It’s a better use of my money, I think.

I’m not asking for a lot, Santa. Given the little time I have for holidays, I know it’s not worth going back to Singapore. So I’m going to London instead. It will be an exciting time for me but what I’ll be missing would be the annual Christmas dinner and gift exchange that I have with a group of close friends. I’ll miss them all… but I will just have to wait for next year.

Every year, I walk down Orchard Road to look at the Christmas lights. I’m not a kid anymore so the magical feeling I used to experience has diminished somewhat. Still, there is an ambience of warmth and cheer. So what I would like this year, Santa, are photos of the Christmas lights in town as well as of the decorations that the various shopping centres put up at the entrance. Perhaps you could take aerial photos whilst you are traveling through the skies in your sleigh with your reindeers?

I know you’ll deliver, Santa. I’ll be waiting patiently…

Love,
Mae
xxx

No Fooling Around Tonight.

It's my mid-way evaluation tomorrow.

Yes, it's already half-way through my placement.

I'm supposed to present and discuss 2 cases tomorrow.

I was planning to wing it.

Then I thought "better not".

It's my first class at risk here.

I shall prepare for it tonight.

Life is Full of Decisions

The pest control company came by yesterday and got back to us saying that they could not find any trace of the rat.

What did I say about rats being sneaky?

The pest control company left bait for it.

Rat food... Yummy...

I felt scared to go to sleep though. There was quite a large gap beneath the wooden door of my room. Images of the rat running into my room and onto my face kept coming to my mind. Maybe it would run in and bite my nose? Or chew on my ear? Disgusting...

I decided I had to do something to get peace of mind so I could sleep and after a while, finally settled on...

Stuffing plastic bags under the gap of the door

It's so stupid I can't believe I'm telling you this... My reasoning is that if the rat wanted to come in, it would have to bite or push through the plastic bag to get in right? And supposedly, the rustling of the plastic bag would wake me up... Haha...

Ok, dumb idea.

But it worked.

It gave me my peace of mind and I managed to get a night's sleep.

Then this morning, I dreaded going into the kitchen. But there was no observable difference to the bait.

I can't decide whether I'm happy that I didn't have to face a dead rat on the floor in the morning or whether I'm upset that the sneaky rodent is still lurking somewhere around...

Decisions, decisions, decisions...

------------------------------

Just a random funny incident.

I was coming back from work on the bus and at one of the bus-stops, a guy carrying crutches came down the stairs from the upper deck. Instinctively, I thought that was strange because he was carrying them, not using them. But then, he could be transporting them for whatever reason.

Then just as he alighted from the bus, there was a second guy that hopped down the stairs, hopped down the bus and hopped after the first guy shouting, "Hey, hey, hey come back!"

They were obviously friends. But it was quite a funny sight, don't you imagine?

I've been laughing a lot recently. Don't know why...

It could be that the people here are funny... It could be life here is less stressful so laughter comes more easily... And yeah, it could just be that I'm going crazy. Right.

------------------------------

Since I've been to Scotland, I've only met 1 other Singaporean - a lady that works in my university. I was beginning to feel like Dwarf Blue Sheep, a very rare sight.

But I think... I think there is another Singaporean here in this tiny rural town, right here in this hospital.

I think it's a guy...

I'll go investigate to find out more. Then I'll tell you the why and the how...

I've An Angel As My Supervisor!

I woke up this morning, bright and early and ready to face another work week. Walked into the kitchen only to come face to face with a...

RAT

I was shocked into inaction. But even if I wasn't, I wouldn't know what to do.

Firstly, it's not everyday that I come face to face with a rat. And secondly, what DO you do?

Stomp on it until the guts spill all over the floor?

A bit messy for early in the morning, don't you think?

Shout at it to "go!"?

Stare each other out?

Fortunately, I think the rat is more experienced in "social encounters" with the human kind so it knew what it had to do.

It ran away.

Ah, ok. At least it saved me the problem of thinking what to do with/to it.

Anyway, I casually mentioned to my supervisor about my rat-ty encounter when I got to work. Within 2 minutes, she was on the phone to the hospital's Domestic Supervisor about the problem and promptly got back to me with the assurance that the pest control would be in within the day.

We then left the office and got into her car to start our home visits of the day. In the car, she handed me a small portable TV "just so you wouldn't be bored in the evenings".

At this point, I could run up a long list of super-positive adjectives to describe her but sometimes, less really is more.

WHAT AN ANGEL!!!

A Break from the World

I had a couple of those days…

The kind of days that used to piss my friends off when I was in Singapore…

I don’t go on MSN

I don’t answer phone calls

I don’t reply to SMS-es

I’m simply uncontactable.

I don’t exist on days like that.

The world continues to revolve.

With or without me.

But I’m not bothered.

I need to be alone.

I did not speak to anyone these 2 days, except for a single “thank you” when I paid for a purchase...

This weekend was for me.

I organized my files on the laptop.

I put up a new very egocentric desktop photo.

I did my laundry.

And I did something I have not done in a long time.

I played “Minesweeper” on Windows.

I can’t remember when I last played.

As a result, I have new “Best Times”

Beginner: 7seconds
Intermediate: 37seconds
Expert: 130seconds

Very bo liao.

But a very relaxing and enjoyable weekend.

I feel rejuvenated and refreshed.

I’m ready to go out and meet the world again.

Suggestion for Presents, Anyone?

Christmas is just slightly over a month away! These couple of weekends I’ve been hanging around the 2 towns trying to find suitable gifts for a gift exchange with my flatmates as well as for my supervisor(s).

With commercialization these days, it should be easy to find a present. Shops are filled to the brim with chocolates, lovely toiletries, and home ware packaged with silver/gold/red/green ribbons that scream “CHRISTMAS!!!”. Catalogues help you to be more organized by categorizing gifts into “₤5 and below”, “₤10 and below”, “₤20 and below”, “₤25 and below”…

So yes, it should be easy to buy gifts.

But it’s not.

I think it’s because I’m such a practical person and this trait carries over to my “gift-buying”. As much as possible, I try to give something that the person will have a use for and possibly appreciate more, rather than buying decorative gifts. Finding gifts that are practical and suit the person is what makes buying gifts so hard.

There are also certain gifts that lots of people have a tendency to give so I try not to buy them. The top 3 in the list are:

Toiletries
Bodyshop or Marks & Spencers are popular. Although I try not to buy them for others, I love getting toiletries (isn’t that strange?). They smell great. They make me smell great and they are just so pretty. But, there’s only so much a person needs and can use…

Chocolates
I’m guilty of buying chocolates as gifts sometimes… It’s a more or less “universally” acceptable gift and is always the “safe” option.

A lot of people end up buying chocolates.

The chocolate companies know this! And they exploit it to their advantage!

When I was out shopping today, I saw…

Nestle packages the same chocolate in 2 different boxes: Barbie or Winnie the Pooh.

There’s this other company that also packages their chocolate in 7 different boxes. You get a choice of: Madagascar, Winnie the Pooh, Barbie, Star Wars, Noddy (incidentally, I love Noddy!), Bratz, or Batman.

Surely you will find a box that your child will love? Never mind that the boxes essentially hold the same contents.

Adults, unfortunately, don’t all fall for it. Hence, the chocolate companies change strategy. They package their chocolates into tins instead. The buyer thinks, “When the chocolate’s finished, they will still have this lovely tin that's useful and can be used to store other things.” Right?

While we’re on the topic of chocolates, let me show you 2 of the chocolates I came across today.

This "phone" could possibly pass off as cute or funny, yes?

This first caught my attention because it was colourful. But it really got my attention when I saw the fine print of the label. Do you see it? It's a bit small in the photo. Anyway, it says:

“Hand Decorated Milk Chocolate Bar”.

Way cool!!! I wonder how much time and effort it takes to scatter a few Smarties on top of the bar of chocolate? I really wouldn’t know… this is a skill that is completely beyond me. Such a fine work of art, this hand decorated chocolate. Well worth the retail price of ₤10, I say…

Moving on... the last is

Candles

I don’t tend to give candles unless I know the person loves and uses candles often. In terms of practicality, they don’t rank very high up. They are useful, yes, they may serve a decorative function, they may possibly give off a very pleasant smell when burnt or provide a nice relaxing and romantic ambience, and they are certainly useful when there is a “blackout”. But that’s about it…

I could be biased. You know candles always (or should always, anyway) come with a warning that says “Do not leave burning candle unattended”? I actually religiously obey that warning. I have a great fear of the flame burning up my house. Hence, when I use candles, I feel “tied” to the room and suddenly my freedom is “restricted”. That’s why I don’t use candles very often, apart from the occasional burning of essential oils. In fact, I think I use more charcoal than candles.

----------

Despite my difficulty in finding gifts, the day was not wasted! Apart from the interesting chocolates I came across, I also chanced upon something else…

I think a lot of girls struggle when they have to buy a gift for guys. Guys are a tough bunch. They don’t fall for things that are cute or furry or smell nice or simply look nice. Instead, they have a soft spot for gadgets and technology but those are usually freaking expensive…

But now, let me introduce the PERFECT gifts for husbands and boyfriends. Ah sorry, let me add that this applies uniquely to Singaporean husbands/boyfriends.

NICE?

I guarantee if you buy this for your husband/boyfriend, he will be pleased speechless and won’t say redundant things like, “Aiyah, why you waste money bothering to buy me a gift?” or “Whose card did you pay with?”

To further convince you that it's a great gift, I'll give you 5 reasons why this is perfect for your husband/boyfriend:

1. Portable
2. Battery operated – Outfield got no electricity right?
3. Has FM radio and plays CDs – this means he can listen to the radio during his breaks and tell you when Robinsons is having their “sale worth waiting for”. You can also record a message for him on CD so he can listen to it even when he’s staying in or outfield! He will never miss your voice again!
4. VERY RELEVANT – Even after they finish NS, they still gotta do reservist right? So it’s a gift that can be used year after year…
5. Nobody needs to know he has this radio/CD player – it’s camouflaged! That’s the whole idea right? If the soldiers wear camou paint so they can’t be spotted, it applies to the radio/CD player also ya? But if he’s not discreet with the volume and his officer finds out, it may not be a bad thing also. He may get brownie points for being so enthusiastic about being in the army!

So don’t hesitate anymore!

Only ₤22.90!

End of Week 2

I’ve had a long week at work.

The work’s still enjoyable but I’ve had to get up earlier in the mornings because now I travel a little further to get to work. And I’m not a morning person.

Also, because I’m based in the community, specifically in 3 different GP clinics (haha… the irony of it all. I come here and work in a GP clinic!), there’s lots of traveling between the 3 areas to do home visits for patients. I don’t actually do any work in the car but it’s just tiring to travel, to get into the car (warm), get out of the car (cold), get into the house (warm), get out of the house (cold) etc.

Tired Me = Grumpy Me (all the more so because I can’t be grumpy at work)

Thankfully, I have a super-duper N-I-C-E supervisor. I have been very lucky actually. I have known of supervisors who weren’t very pleasant but so far, all my supervisors (my 7th one now) have been nice. She was on MC last week for a bad back. It’s actually not much better this week and she really should not be back at work but she is. Because of me. Bo pian… she gotta come back to work to supervise me.
She’s so incredibly open, forthcoming and friendly and it’s these that make her seem so “human” (opposed to “superior” because she’s my supervisor) and it makes her company so enjoyable that even during those long drives, there’s no awkwardness. She’s also got a very friendly husband, adorable (so so so so lovable!) 2-year old son and 2 yorkshire terriers. Yeah, I’ve met them all. Within 2 days… Haha…

Before I left for the weekend this afternoon, she said to me, “You’ve got my home and mobile numbers. If anything happens anytime and you need help or someone, just call. Alex and I both have cars and we’ll come to get you if you need us.”

Awwww... SO NICE RIGHT? What have I done to deserve a supervisor like that?

Ended the week with an afternoon with “Timothy”, going over some work that I did while I was under his supervision last week. There were lots to discuss and he ended up asking me to join him to go for an appointment to meet a patient in a café, so that we could continue the discussion in the car. Feel a bit guilty because “Shirley” is his actual student and she was supposed to go with him for the appointment. I “stole” her supervisor, her supervision time and her free cup of coffee! Tsk Tsk...

After the appointment, we went back to the hospital and I managed to catch up with “Shirley” on what we’ve each been up to. Sometimes, I go from patient to patient and they tell me so much information (from the trivial details of their lives to really major events) that I feel my head is going to burst. It felt good to be able to engage in informal conversation about random things (call it gossip, if you like) and also to share (within confidentiality guidelines) and “off-load” what happened over the week, without the pressure and expectation that we have to be the “sensible therapist” in the relationship and constantly replying in a way that provides “support and encouragement”.

When I came back to my flat, I found out that my flatmates were away for the weekend. Ah, good. Not that I don’t like them. I do. But solitude is much needed at this moment. =)

Also, I got an e-mail from Elli yesterday. She does make an effort to keep in contact with me and update me on what’s happening back in Aberdeen and with the rest of my flatmates. Thanks loads, Elli!

Then this evening, I got a sms from my neighbours from Aberdeen as well. Mac and Gorden (Flat 1), Nicola (Flat 3) and Jemma (Flat 4) sent me the sms JUST TO LET ME KNOW THAT I’M NOT FORGOTTEN and to find out how I’ve been getting on. I’m so very touched…

CJ called too and we had a nonsensical 40min conversation during which the 2 of us weren’t making much sense most of the time.

These things may seem insignificant but when one is far away from home, things take on a different perspective and each of these: my supervisor’s words, Elli’s email, my neighbours’ sms, and CJ’s call are very much appreciated. The weather may be cold but I’m feeling warm and fuzzy inside…

The week has rounded up nicely so I’m happy again!

Sub-zero Temperatures!

The cold and dark has finally caught up with us here!

It gets dark (or as my supervisor's son says, "The sun goes to sleep") at 4:30pm.

But I don't mind. I've always been a bit (ok, understatement) of a night owl and I had to stay up till 3am before I got enough of the night and go to bed. But now, I get more of the night so I can go to sleep at a decent time of 11pm...

Yesterday, it was 0 degrees (I don't believe! I think it was much colder!) and today it's -1! No wonder they've got the salt and grit all scattered across the road... I haven't actually seen snow though... Reports from Aberdeen (Elli provides personal reports) say that it has snowed up there... Oh well, I'll just have to wait for my chance...

Cars parked along the side of the road has got a thin layer of ice on it and I saw "black ice" for the first time today! I've come across it in books before and it's no big deal really. Just ice on the road that appears black because of the tar. It's dangerous because it looks like a puddle of water but your car could actually skid. Anyway, like I said, it's really no big deal... But it's just great to see and learn something new everyday.

Tonight's temperature is supposed to dip as low as -6. So I'm going to head back asap and keep myself warm under the covers!

Cheerios!

Have you ever...

Have you ever done something on impulse and then on hindsight wonder WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO DO THAT?

That happened to me today.

I went to the supermarket and came away with what I intended to buy PLUS a tub of:

ORGANIC LOW FAT STRAWBERRY BIO LIVE YOGHURT

The surprising thing was not that I bought more than what I intended to. That happens all the time… I’ve got willpower the consistency of jelly when it comes to food.

The “Oh my God, what was I thinking?” thought was because I actually bought a tub of

YOGHURT

I have to explain…

Yoghurt DOES NOT appeal to me.

At all.

To me, it’s the “edible”, supposedly “healthy and good for you” equivalent of licking the door knobs in a hospital…

FULL OF BACTERIA

Of course, that’s just my opinion. If you are a lover of yoghurt, please do not let my above statement affect you. In fact, if you are a serious lover of yoghurt, the above statement should not affect you. It’s just like, I love muesli bars. Quite a few of my friends tell me it’s “bird food” but I still love it and keep eating it anyway.

Back to the yoghurt…

To compound my bewilderment, the yoghurt was:

1) Organic - I do not usually buy organic food. In fact, I cannot recall any occasion that I’ve bought organic food. But if I ever did, the only reason I can think of is probably because the non-organic version was out of stock and I absolutely had to have that item.

2) Low Fat – Me who doesn’t eat margarine but insists on butter. Me who doesn’t drink semi-skinned milk but insists on full-cream/whole milk. Me who doesn’t even drink diet coke/whatever, insisting on the real thing… LOW FAT?!?!

In an attempt to de-puzzle the whole situation, I decided to examine the packaging. Maybe it was just a simple matter of “great product packinging” that made me buy something that I don’t need and don’t want.

I wish I could show you a photo of the product. But I shall not, later kenna sued…

The packaging was very very simple. There was just a picture of a big plump strawberry in the middle of 2 lalang-looking leaves that formed a “V”. So I don’t think it’s the packaging that did the trick…

Then…

I found a product description. You know, where they try to “sell” the product.

“This is how yoghurt should be – thick, creamy and alive with flavour. We make it with milk from cows that graze on clover-rich, organic grass. The fresh, mild taste comes from using the friendliest bacteria and the juiciest fruit. The smoothness if the result of time and patience.

Sensational taste AND all those probiotic bacteria helping to keep your body in balance.”

Well, it was OBVIOUSLY NOT the product description that tricked me into buying the yoghurt because after I read it, the only things that I remember are:

“This is how yoghurt should be – thick, creamy and alive with flavour. We make it with milk from cows that graze on clover-rich, organic grass. The fresh, mild taste comes from using the friendliest bacteria and the juiciest fruit. The smoothness if the result of time and patience.

Sensational taste AND all those probiotic bacteria helping to keep your body in balance.”

Yeah, I can be selectively severely dyslexic and admittedly, my memory is not the best.

Ok, so I’m officially puzzled.

I still don’t know why I bought the organic, low fat yoghurt *cringe*.

But before anybody gives me an update on the situation of the starving children of Somalia, I have to say this...

I will eat it.

All 500ML of it.

Finally.

My elusive neighbours are ready to make their appearance.

Spotted in the distance...

Come, come closer...

CLOSER, please...

Wondering what exactly I want from it...

I can stretch out my hand to touch them!!

----------------------------------------

Every morning and evening, as I make my way to and from work, I pass by a bench that's placed outside the hospital.

Like many other benches, this is in memory of a person...

BUT this bench is special in it's own way...

There is an additional notice above the bench.

I think they should build bus-stops, parks and every other conceivable

public place in memory of people, then put signs like this.

WHO DARES TO SMOKE STILL?!

End of Week 1

5 more weeks to go... But if the next 5 weeks are anything like this first week, I bet time will whiz by and at the end of it, I would not want to leave...

A summary of what I did this week...

Monday

Morning: Orientation to the acute mental health ward in the hospital.
Afternoon: Baking group

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Tuesday

Spent the day working with the community mental health team. Went on home visits in the morning to follow up on people who have been discharged from the hospital to make sure that they are coping well back at home. I love home visits (although there are risks sometimes). I get to see the design of their homes (possibly get ideas for my future home) and see how they live... Observation of them in their "natural environment".

Most of them have lovely homes, the sort of English homes that one reads about in a fairy tale or sees in "Architectural Digest": carpeted floors, wallpapered walls, nice warm lights, fireplace (I love fireplaces!), tea sets, and huge sofas that swallows me up when I sit on it.

However, some homes are really bad. These usually are the clients that are unable to manage their homes for various reasons (mental health, physical health or socio-economical reasons). Food cartons and unwashed dishes everywhere, dodgy looking stains on the walls, carpet and sofa... As a therapist, I'm not supposed to judge. But there comes a point where this level of hygiene is not acceptable and worrying.

Sitting on the sofa is not so bad though. Once I sit on it, whatever that may be lurking under my bum doesn't quite bother me. The worst is when they serve tea. To reject would be rude. But tea that's served in a cup that looks like it haven't been washed for some time is just... *wince* Just be polite and take a tiny sip. Keep reminding myself that the tea was made with hot (and hopefully boiling) water so whatever germs that were there have been killed. Occupational hazard...

Highlight of the morning was meeting one client in a restaurant (her preferred place of meeting)...

Very cosy right?

Afternoon was spent doing more home visits and running a group at the local "community centre" for these clients. Topic of the afternoon was: "Assertiveness".

Are you assertive enough? Do you find it difficult to return a purchase if the product is damaged? What do you do when your boss makes a habit of giving you work half an hour before you knock off and tells you that "it's urgent and I need it by tomorrow morning"? What do you do when a person smokes next to you when it's clearly stated "no smoking" in that area?

------------------------------

Wednesday

Helped facilitate the art group in the hospital together with an art lecturer from a nearby college. It's an unstructured group and I think it's great because it allows the patients choice. They can choose to participate or not, they can choose if they want to do art or craft, and they can choose the medium they want to work with: pencils, charcoal, crayons, water colours, poster paint, acrylic paints, paper, silk, tiles etc etc...

Choice is a luxury when one is in an environment where you have to get up and shower by a specific time so that the doctors can make their rounds, meals are at a designated time, you are allowed visitors only at certain times and lights out are at a fixed time everyday.

------------------------------

Thursday

Help facilitate a music group in the hospital together with a music lecturer from a nearby college. Similar to the art group, it was unstructured but more passive because it didn't require much "doing". Patients chose the song they wanted to sing and the lecturer would strum on his guitar. The atmosphere was great and at times, it was like karaoke while at other times, it was like a sing-a-long session. It's true that music connects people. Patients who were shy/did not socialize were suddenly singing, smiling and "connecting" with others.

My afternoon was spent doing physical rehabilitation with elderly patients. Included a kitchen assessment for a lady who was about to be discharged home. She made her tea with no apparent problems. If she does equally well for her home visit, she'll be out of the hospital and home in no time! =)

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Friday

Attended a weekly team meeting for community mental health in the morning. Discussed patients and agreed on care plans.

Finished work at 12:30 because I only work 4.5 days a week.

I.Hate.Fire.Alarms.

It went off at 4am.

As expected, there was a delay in my response (hello, it's 4am?!). I woke up almost immediately but laid in bed for half a minute trying to decide if it was a fire alarm or the siren of the ambulance from the A&E department. Deciding it was indeed the fire alarm, I dragged myself out of the bed, stepped into my slippers and surprisingly, had the good sense to put on a sweater as well.

Opening the heavy wooden door of my room (it's a fire door), I am greeted by the shrill alarm that threatened to permanently damage my hearing. Instinctively (and on hindsight, funnily), I shut my room door again (ahh...relief to my ears) and wonder if I can stay in my room since the door is afterall a fire door. Stop laughing at me now...

After an internal debate, good sense prevailed and I dashed past the fire alarm and made my way downstairs. There were already about 5 people there but they were all just standing inside the building, just at the entrance of the building. Eventually, there were about 15 of us and as the "lobby" was so small, people just sat on the staircase.

It's interesting because despite the "fire" (and everybody knows to evacuate the building in the case of fire), no one was willing to stand in the cold. The weather is an amazing determinant of people's actions. At a crazy 3 degrees outside, people just cannot be bothered to go out into the cold, even in a fire. That's why there are no riots in Scotland. Raise the temperature by 5 degrees and what happens?

You get the French riots...

Ok, now all the french are gonna get out their family heirloom: the 100-year old hardened and preserved baguette, baked by their great-grandmother, to hit me...

A girl, who is obviously experienced in this went to the fire alarm monitor at the stairway and read the information off the monitor aloud, "It says room 55C and it's 13 degrees inside".

13 degrees!

HOLY COW!

That's absolutely BLAZING, isn't it?

At a whole 10 degrees HOTTER than outside, it's SHOCKING!

For the benefit of those who did not study biology, let me tell you that 10 degrees is a lot. Enzymes work at DOUBLE the rate with each increase of 10 degrees. Until the point where they become fried denatured then they stop working completely, of course.

So while waiting for the firemen to come rescue us from the blazing fire, I noticed something else interesting...

The girls all looked "correct": tousled hair, dragged-out-of-bed faces, dressed in PJs or sleeping robes...

The guys, on the other hand, were a mix of "right" (about 2 of them) and "wrong" (about 5 of them). What I mean by wrong is... they were dressed as if to go out. There were a couple of guys that turned up with combed hair. How wrong is that??!

There was one guy, in particular, that caught my attention. From the waist up, he looked "right": messed up hair, sleepy face, old sleeping t-shirt. From the waist down, he couldn't be more "wrong"...

Work pants!

Belt!!

Leather shoes!!!

What were they thinking?!!

Perhaps if the firemen took too long to get here, they could stroll down to the nearest pub to get a pint???

Except that there are only farms and no pub within walking distance of the hospital and the idea of a pint of milk, regardless how fresh, was just not the same?

Anyway... the brigade arrived within 10 minutes. A large fire engine, complete with 5 brave firemen have come to save us from the 13 degrees fire that was roasting up room 55C! My first encounter with Scottish firemen... They looked neat, professional and AWAKE! Which makes me wonder what they were doing before being called out here...

4am would be right in the middle of the night shift...

Thinking of what I do in the middle of my work day, could it be...

we interrupted them when they were having

tea and biscuits?

S.H.A.M.E

Because it turned out only to be a water leak that came through the ceiling and activated the fire alarm.

My guess is it was hot water that was exactly 13 degrees...

Snapshots...

Here are some photos that I took since here... No photos of my neighbours (the cows) yet though… That will have to wait till Sat/Sun because I usually get up and rush to work and by the time I come back, it’s already dark…

The Glasgow Bus Station that looks like Toa Payoh Bus Interchange

Irvine Guest House

My accommodation for the first night… Also the place I met Mark.

Having to carry my luggage up the stairs is no fun...

Dining room

My room for the night...

Town of Irvine

... at 10am on a Sunday morning. I like this town already.

Seriously, there should be an international law that prohibits everyone

in the world from getting up before noon on Sunday and public holidays...

My Hospital Accommodation

With a chair and comforter like that, how can you doubt you’re on hospital grounds?

My room is really quite spacious...

Hand towels from “Kimberly-Clark”

Complete with the “Steps for handwashing” above the sink…

Once again to remind you you’re on hospital grounds.

But if you are so hopeless and can still forget,

especially if it's in the middle of the night,

DON'T WORRY

Just take a look at the comforter…

I said the other day that the only things that can save this place are: Internet and nice people. Well…

Internet
Not available on residences. There is, however, a computer lab available in the hospital’s medical library, a 5 min walk down the hill from the residences. Hence, if there is no blog entry for the day, it means I have nothing to say that the weather is bad and I do not love you all enough to be bothered to put on my jacket, windbreaker, open my umbrella and risk being blown away just to blog. If, however, you still love me despite this, you are very welcome to call, sms or e-mail me to tell me that you miss me.

People
Very very fortunately, I have pretty decent flatmates. Lyndsay, who is a part-time psychologist, part-time student, has been living here for 7 months, pretty much all alone except for people like me who come and go. I can only imagine how the past 7 months has been for her: alone in the flat, then people moving in and probably upsetting her storage space, using her dishwashing liquid, taking up her freezer space… then moving away after a few weeks….then new people moving in again… and the cycle continues. Surprisingly though, she is still nice and not at all resentful against us.

My other flatmate is Yvonne, a sweet and pleasant girl who is a medical student and will be here for 5 weeks. The other morning, she was washing her dishes after breakfast so I left my bowl and spoon next to the sink planning to wash it after she was done with hers. 5 minutes later when I went back to the sink, my stuff has been washed!

The flat is not very “friendly” though. There is barely a communal area (which is right outside the bathroom and the toilet and is half the size of our rooms), a tiny table, and only 2 chairs. The kettle is so small that boils water for just 2 cups of tea. So, although I have pretty decent flatmates, we tend to remain in our rooms and only talk when we happen to meet in the kitchen which comes up to about 5 minutes in the morning and 5 minutes in the evening, on a good day…

There is 1 other person that I’ve spoke to in the building and it’s the guy that lives alone in the flat below mine (people are distributed strangely. Lots of people live alone instead of being placed to live together in 1 flat). I was walking up the stairs behind him 2 days ago and I noticed this pair of pants he was wearing. It was green. A very distinctive and familiar green. I couldn’t resist and I had to ask, “Are you an OT student?”. Turns out he is! A 3rd year OT student, originally from somewhere in the Gulf (he told me but I forgot) and studying at Queen Margaret in Edinburgh.

So overall, accommodation is awww-right.

6 weeks here will be fineeeeee...

First Day on the Job…

** In case anyone was wondering: I did not blog about the duck race that I previously mentioned because… there was no duck race… The only thing that was going in the wee (in Scotland, if something is small or younger or happens infrequently, it’s wee e.g. wee child, wee brother, wee phone call) town of Irvine was a "dart tournament" so that must have been what the guy was talking about. Dart race, not duck race. But who the hell says dart race? It can be a tournament, a match or a competition but NOT A RACE!! It’s my logic by the way, so don’t question it. Just accept it.

Today was my first day of work at this hospital that I’m temporarily at. And… I love it I love it I love it. I can’t wait to start work (nono, I do not want to hear about job stress, politics and all that now) and if my love for my job is not yet evident, I think it will be by the time you finish reading this post.

Incidentally, I dislike writing in a "timetable" format (very unimaginative and makes me seem like I can’t put together an "essay-style" article, you know what I mean?) but you guys seem to enjoy reading it that way, so here goes…

9:30am: A guy (seriously good looking, I have to add) comes up to me and says, "You must be Mae". He introduces himself as "Timothy" and is going to be my temporary supervisor for the time I’m here. Yes, Timothy is obviously not his real name. I just signed a "confidentiality" statement today. My entire career is at stake here, ok? So give me a break, please...

9:45am: Timothy introduces my classmate who is attached to this same place, "Shirley" (aka Angelina Jolie lookalike), and myself to the place and setting. He goes through with us the usual "what we do here", working hours information etc and because my brain has such an amazing capacity to multi-task, I am able to observe him a bit better at the same time (you know, just the usual curiosity everyone has when they meet someone new?). Of course, I am still paying attention to every word he says…

As I observe, I realize that he is neat, well-groomed (clean shaven, great haircut that suits him, hair gelled – not excessively but in a nice boy next door way), well-dressed and color coordinated right down to his socks! Remarkable. Possibly a man with taste and a good dress sense… but I decide to go with my gut feel of: MARRIED. Hahaha…

Timothy has got a laid back, informal style that is unpretentious and comfortable, without that self-conscious awkwardness that is often present when one meets new people. Wonderful because it puts me at ease (students on their first day at work are considerably stressed). He is definitely not one of those ultra-stern supervisors that suddenly make bladder control very hard. In time to come, I will remember him as the first supervisor I hear say "Oh shit…" out loud. I have no doubt my previous supervisors have had that thought before but none had ever vocalized it.

10:15am: Timothy leaves for a meeting after giving us some materials to read through. Shirley and I set off to the dining room to read and have coffee at the same time.

11:30am: We have finished reading and are back in the office. We decide to start on our sandwiches (lunch) because we were hungry, although lunch is officially from 12-12:30.

12:30pm: Timothy returns from the meeting with 2 other colleagues. We all sit together and chat, getting to know each other better, as they have their lunch.

1pm: Timothy brings us to tour the ward. It is a mental health ward and because I’m not planned to be doing a mental health placement so I’m not quite prepared. I get a little nervous.

The first patient I meet (an elderly lady) does not help.

She introduced herself and taking my hand, kissed it. I am shocked and I do not quite know how to react, my lack of mental preparation compounded by the fact that I simply cannot decide if her actions are inappropriate (this is, after all, a mental health ward) or if it’s part of their culture. And although I did say this is a mental health ward, I cannot assume that everyone here is of "unsound mind" because dementia is classed under mental health, learning disabilities are included and drug and alcohol addicts are admitted into the mental health ward to detox as well.

A quick glance at Timothy’s expression tells me that her actions are inappropriate. So I do the safe thing. I smile at the lady and say "nice to meet you".

At this moment, I remember a similar situation when I was on placement in Australia: I was doing an initial assessment of a man suspected of brain injury when he made a remark and started laughing. I didn’t quite get the remark and I couldn’t tell if he was being irrelevant as a result of a brain injury or whether it was a valid joke and I didn’t get it because I don’t share his background.

It’s just one of those things that I have to be conscious of and consider instead of jumping to the conclusion that the person is "inappropriate".

Soon though, I realize that this is not unlike the mental health placement I did in Singapore. The people are different but the conditions, outward symptoms and behaviours are similar. Remembering my past positive experience, I lose my nervousness and become quite comfortable in the environment.

What is different here, however, is the environment of the ward. Here, patients are encouraged to make their own bed, do their own laundry in the laundry room on the ward and are allowed to wear their own clothes (no hospital garb! This was slightly confusing because some of them looked so well that you would not be able to differentiate them from say, their visitors).

The environment hence prevents reliance, promotes independence, encourages self-responsibility, decreases the sense of institutionalization (which in itself causes many ill-effects) and offers opportunities for normalization. Yes, OT-ish point of view…

2pm: Baking group! It was slightly chaotic but great fun! The patients are very capable of baking and following recipes. Some of them just need prompts and some guidance and it was our role to help facilitate their success. We ended by having tea with the patients and it is obvious that they are pleased with the tangible rewards of their efforts.

Is this OT?

Partly. Rather, it is a "snapshot" of OT, a small part of a whole. The choice of seemingly routine and commonplace activities appear absurd and some things we do seem like commonsense. But beneath that superficial simplicity, there is a philosophy and there are underlying principles. The purpose, the planning, and the execution of the activity determine the difference between OT and diversion therapy.

In future, would I go to work, spend my afternoon baking with my patients, bring a cake home to my children and say "Look what Mummy did at work today?"

Ermm…I don’t think so. Because OT is about a lot more than this (I cannot emphasize this enough) and baking is just one of the gazillion things we do. Besides, if I wanted to do that, I would be a baker.

4pm: Discussion of our observations of the group and the patients.

4:30pm: Goodbye and see you tomorrow!

The Process is as Important as the Destination - A Journey of Self-Discovery

I never understood why people went backpacking and I was always of the opinion that: if I went on a holiday, I want to travel well, eat well and live well. It will be well-planned, I will know exactly where I am sleeping for the night and it will be in a place with en-suite shower and toilet facilities. I will not spend every evening unpacking for a shower and a change of clothes and then spend the night packing and re-stuffing my worldly possessions into my backpack only to carry them around the whole day.

But occasionally, and I’ve noticed with increasing frequency of late, life throws me a challenge. I was about to get a small taste of backpacking…

In this particular challenge, I am supposed to travel alone about 300km across a country I’m unfamiliar with, to a place I have never heard of and almost impossible to find information about (because it’s such a small town) whilst carrying my luggage (which in the end weighed more than 30kg!), always being mindful and alert about my belongings (which of course includes my passport, money, cards blah blah), and being careful about my environment such as dodgy alleys. In addition, I have to time my arrival such that it is hopefully still daylight (before 5pm) when I arrive.

In summary?

Very challenging.

Particularly since I’ve not traveled alone before and I am not physically intimidating (in fact, I look too much like a naïve teenager in a land where the people seem to experience express ageing).

As in all situations, I have options: I can kick up a hell of a fuss, be a pain and insist on an alternative place of attachment. As an international student who’s probably paying the equivalent of 10 local students, I would have no trouble getting my way. In the process, I will come across as an individual and student who is unable to cope with challenges and yeah, give others a really good impression of Singapore.

Instead, I chose the alternative of accepting the challenge and forced myself to convert my helplessness and panic into constructive planning: studying maps, planning my journey, finding out bus times, finding accommodation, even to the extent of creating a timeline (a good skill I picked up from Red Cross). It sounds a little compulsive but preparation was the only way I could calm myself down, by minimizing the chances of things going wrong: getting lost, spending the night at the bus-stop etc.

So yesterday, my preparations were put to test.

5:00am – Get up, have breakfast, and throw in items that can finally be packed e.g. toothbrush.

6:00am – Taxi arrives on time to take me to the bus station in Aberdeen.

6:15am – I get to the bus station in good time for my bus to Glasgow. Wonder which idiot designed the bus such that the luggage compartment is at my shoulder height. I struggle to get my luggage into the compartment.

6:40am – Bus to Glasgow departs.

10:20am – Arrival in Glasgow. Stopped by Dundee and Perth along the way to pick up more passengers who were going to other places like Edinburgh, Manchester or London. Dundee and Perth hence now fall into the grey area of “I’ve been there but I’ve not been there”.

10:25am – Managed to get my luggage out of the bus and marvel at how much the bus station of Glasgow resembles Toa Payoh Bus Interchange. I now have to find the other bus that will take me from the city of Glasgow to the town of Irvine which is supposed to leave at 11:10am.

10:28am – I find out that the area to wait for the bus is just next to where I alighted.

10:30am – The bus that was supposed to leave at 10:20am for Irvine is still here! Feeling lucky, I board the bus. It was torturous bringing my luggage up the steps of the bus and I had to pay ₤3.35 for my bus fare but I am so pleased with arriving earlier than planned that I do not swear at anyone.

10:40am – The bus departs and the guy next to me starts talking to me, telling me about his children. I listen for about 10 minutes then direct the conversation towards the topic of Irvine and I ended up learning more about Irvine by talking to him than from the Internet.

11:30am – I am in Irvine! The bus driver very kindly voluntarily helped me bring my luggage down the steps of the bus. I recognize the landmarks that the owner of the Bed & Breakfast mentioned and followed the directions I got from him.

11:35am – I get to the B&B just as my arm feels like it’s about to fall off from dragging my luggage across road, gravel and pavement. It is a small B&B with only 4 rooms. However, I am not amused to find out that my room is on the 2nd floor and I have to go up the curvy and narrow stairs. Fortunately, the lady who works there decided she will help me and carrying either ends of the suitcase, we made our way to my room.

11:38am – I stand amazed at the room before me. I was supposed to get an “emergency room” that was smaller than the rest because the B&B was full for the weekend. What I am given today is obviously not the “emergency room” because there is a double bed and 2 single beds. I asked and was assured that nobody else is sharing the room with me. I sms-ed Eli (my flatmate) to tell her about this (and that I arrived safely in Irvine) and she wisely replied that I “do not have to fill up the beds”. Very prophetic words but I would realize that only later…

12:30pm – Lunch is microwaved lasagna that I bought from the supermarket down the street.

1:15pm – I’m feeling sleepy after lunch but I drag my ass out to recce the town and the hospital that I’m going to be staying at.

2:00pm – Arrived at the security office at the hospital and am delighted to find out that my accommodation is ready! I can move in tomorrow rather than on Monday as planned.

2:15pm – Found my accommodation. It is part of a row of low-rise buildings that are a 5 minute walk from the hospital. Next to the low-rise building is a field and (I’m not kidding here) my neighbours are cows!

My flat is on the 3rd floor of a low-rise building and my mind has instantly registered the fact that I will NEVER be able to bring my luggage up alone. I make a mental note to find a solution.

The flat has 4 rooms and although it’s empty at the moment, there is evidence of inhabitant(s). The room is a decent size but it is not en-suite, the flat is not the newest and not the most spanking clean.

My first thought was: The only things that can save this place are nice people and an internet connection. But I quickly push that thought out and automatically practice positive self-talk (the things you learn from school to empower patients are remarkably useful) and repeatedly tell myself that I will survive and focus on little positive things like there is a microwave, there are plates, bowls and knives, there is a thick comforter and there is toilet paper in the toilet.

4:00pm – I am back at the B&B and planning how best to go about doing things tomorrow. I finally settle on going shopping tomorrow morning for food for the next few days (since there are no supermarkets within walking distance from the hospital) and then carrying all of that, together with my luggage and move everything at once. My “helper” will be the lucky driver of whichever taxi I end up taking tomorrow. Satisfied, I settle down to read a book and take a nap.

7:00pm – I am refreshed after my nap and dinner. I hang around the entrance of the B&B to watch the fireworks that people are setting off in their gardens. 5th November is a day of celebration in UK.

7:15pm – A guy enters the B&B and starts a conversation with me. His name is Mark and he is a professional dart player from London and has the room next to mine. I decide I want to go for a walk to see more of the fireworks and Mark asks to join me. I hesitate but eventually agree.

7:45pm – Mark and I sit in a pub next to our B&B (the other option was to sit in one of our rooms and needless to say, it is not a good option) and continue our conversation. He asks questions to find out more about me. I do not feel like talking about myself amidst the crowd and noise so I give vague answers. I carefully re-direct the conversation (this is really a very useful skill you know?) and he ends up talking about himself. CJ calls and I tell him to call me back (which was logical because it was too noisy to talk but it turned out to be good thing as well). I watch my lemonade very carefully throughout, purely out of habit.

9:45pm - I am calling it a night. In fact, I know from experience that I will be needing the toilet in about half an hour’s time and I do not want to leave him at the table alone. If I leave to go to the loo with my drink unfinished, it’s plain foolishness. If I finish my drink then go to the loo, he can easily get a new drink for me. Either way, I’m risking a spiked drink (Laugh at me…whatever…In a situation like that, I don’t care if you call me paranoid/crazy but I’m not taking the risk. And hello??! We’re in the UK!)
Mark doesn’t want to leave yet but I lie and tell him that it was my boyfriend who was called and I promised to talk to him at 10pm.

9:53pm – CJ calls again. I tell him I want to talk to him and to call me back again in half an hour. I tell Mark that my boyfriend is upset with me and I’m leaving now. We go back to the B&B and just as I was about to close the door, Mark not-so-subtly hints that he is interested in me. I know exactly what he means but I pretend not to get it, say a curt good night and shut the door, checking to make sure it’s locked. I am so worried that I feel the beginnings of a headache.

10:23pm – CJ calls yet again (bless this guy!) and we eventually get to talk. He remembered that I was moving today and he called to find out how I was. We get off the phone after a while because CJ has to meet some people from “Singapore Society” from his uni.

THIS IS WHEN THINGS START TO GET SCARY…

11:00pm – Mark knocks on my door and I pretend not to hear it.

11:10pm – Mark knocks on my door and I again pretend not to hear it.

11:30pm - Mark knocks again and asks if I want to join him for coffee in his room. I yell a loud NO and say I’m still on the phone.

11:55pm – Mark knocks and re-invites me for coffee. I yell NO. I’m going to sleep now.

12:30am – Mark knocks again and asks me to open the door. He doesn’t say why and at this point, I really don’t care why. I have decided NOT to open the door until the next morning. I pretend to be asleep.

Expectedly, I slept fitfully, startling at sudden noises (which was often because my room faced the road and the cars were going at all hours) and not even daring to go to the toilet. I woke up really tired but glad that the night was finally over and I would be moving out in a few hours.

Today…

8:00am – Mark knocks on my door to wake me up for breakfast (breakfast is at 9!!). I say I’m awake but do not open the door. He asks if I want to go for a walk. I reply that he is interrupting my praying and I’ll be down for breakfast when I finish.

9:10am – I finally make my way down for breakfast and I’m the only female in the dining room. Still, I’m glad to see 5 other people besides Mark. I take my time to eat my breakfast (in addition to my normal lack-of-speed when eating) and thankfully, Mark leaves for his dart tournament after a while.

12:30pm – I move into the hospital accommodation and in the process, I feel really bad for the taxi driver that had to help move my luggage up the stairs (because I asked very nicely). He is not young and I genuinely got worried when he started coughing during the 2nd flight of stairs. Fortunately, nothing happened to him. I paid him for the taxi fare and gave him a tip for helping me. He took the money and literally ran down the stairs. Maybe he was afraid I’ll ask him to do something else…

So well, yeah, now I’m settling into my new “home” for the next 6 weeks. All things considered, I think the journey went well and did go pretty much as planned, although some of it was luck. Even though stressful at times (and things were seriously scary last night, but I don’t like to imagine and I’m just thankful I’m safe), there were good moments too.

I understand now why people backpack. It is exciting to explore the unknown world out there and I got a great sense of achievement knowing that I can travel and get to places independently. Being put in a situation where I have nobody to rely on is truly an opportunity for self-discovery and growth. I have now convinced my greatest critic, myself, that I am not the helpless and sheltered girl I thought I was and that I am capable of being self-reliant.

Goodbye... for now...

My final post before I leave Aberdeen for Glasgow at 6:40am tomorrow! From there, I will proceed on to Irvine, where I will stay for a night or two and try to see what the big fat fuss about the duck race is about, before moving to Kilmarnock for the remaining 6 weeks.

My laptop is the final bulky item I have to pack into my suitcase. Why can't I carry my laptop in a normal laptop bag? Yeah, very good question.

1) I am 1 person. With 2 hands. Only.

2) The laptop bag just screams: Hey look! I have a laptop! Come mug meeeee!!!

I can do without problems so...laptop goes into the suitcase.

Today was extremely productive. All the things that have been piling on top of the suitcase finally goes inside neatly.

Thinking about it, 6 weeks isn't exactly long. But there are just so many things to pack. The techie stuff is enough to drive me crazy.

Laptop and battery + lock + speakers + cables + charger + mouse + USB hub + webcam + headphone/mike + thumbdrive

Handphone + charger

Camera + charger + cable + rechargeable batteries

See my point??!! And these excludes things like 2-pin plugs and multi-socket plugs.

Why can't these accessories come fitted together with the laptop/handphone/camera then I don't have to carry all these extras around AND save me the hassle of plugging/unplugging all of them?!

But for the sake of remaining contactable, I shall lug them all along...

To be better prepared for my trip tomorrow (yeah, I'm very big on preparation and planning... I'm scared I get lost, can?) I spent the whole afternoon studying.

I studied the map of central Glasgow!

Sounds dumb. But I think it is going to be so not funny to be dragging my luggage and asking every other person on the street for directions. So I decided to know the directions and the landmarks along the way to where I'm going.

This feels like one of life's exams.

I tell you if I pass ok?

Au revoir...

Until I next get Internet access.

Information About My Next 6 Weeks

Life has been exciting lately... A bit too exciting, I would say.

I'm in the midst of packing (did I ever mention I hate packing? and unpacking too, for that matter) to leave on Saturday morning to catch the 6:40am bus from Aberdeen City to Glasgow. My travelling companion is a suitcase.

From Glasgow (I should be there at about 10:30am), I will take another bus to a small town to the south of Glasgow, called Irvine.

Irvine is the place I was (yeah, WAS...more on that later) supposed to have my attachment for the next 6 weeks. The uni probably came up with this original idea of ensuring I "tour" at least part of Scotland. So, from Aberdeen, which is North-west Scotland, I am now going to work in Irvine, which is South-east Scotland. Oh well... what's 300km and a 4 hour journey to a student who came all the way across the world, right?

I have absolutely no idea what the place is like and hence, this saturday would be an adventure for me. I panicked this afternoon when I called up a Bed & Breakfast to book a room for this weekend and was told that it was full and most other B&Bs would be PACKED this weekend because there is going to be a DUCK RACE. Oh great...

After calling up several B&Bs, I finally found one that could take me in on Sunday. Very fortunately, after I convinced the owner that I really really needed a place for Saturday, he offered me an "emergency room", whatever that is. So done! I now have a place to stay for the weekend.

I had also tentatively booked a room in another B&B that this owner runs as well, for the entire 6 weeks and he was nice enough to offer me a nice deal of "stay 6 days and I'll not charge you for the 7th day". And so I thought everything was settled...

Ah! But life has other plans for me!

My supervisor is ill! Therefore, I now have to go to another hospital, Crosshouse Hospital, to work (at least until my supervisor recovers and is back at work). No big deal.. except that the hospital is NOT in Irvine.

Very very fortunately though, it turns out that Crosshouse Hospital is just a manageable 10+km away (although it IS the next town already) and that accommodation has been arranged for me there for the entire 6 weeks! So I will work and live at Crosshouse Hospital until my original supervisor gets back to work and then I will work at Ayrshire Central Hospital in Irvine and live at Crosshouse Hospital.

Sounds complicated...but I'm sure it will work itself out (I'm oddly optimistic about things like that).

Last minute changes like these cause a lot of stress and anxiety. It is at times like this that I am reminded again that our mental health is very important. It makes all the difference between coping and breaking down. Lucky for me then, I've got supportive family and friends... :)

An Error of Judgment... and a New Dish is Born!

When I was at home, I didn't cook very regularly. Usually only the odd instant noodles or pasta. But since I've been here, I've had to cook for myself... Bo pian, ya know?

Lots of people have been asking me: You can cook meh?

Eh... never cook doesn't mean can't cook ok?

In my opinion, I CAN cook (you can judge for yourself later on) and I've never had a major disaster that resulted in inedible food or food poisoning.

But I'm human... and humans make mistakes.

Last night, I decided to have fried rice (not so much that I wanted to eat fried rice but rather I have to clear the fridge before I leave).

All was going well until I decided the rice was too dry and I should add some water to it. Un-bloody-fortunately, I was distracted (thinking about what to pack/not to pack with me on my trip) and I added too much water... Result?

Mushy fried rice...

I'm not fussy when others cook for me. But I'm fussy when I cook for myself. One needs to have some standards...

But since I've got such fantastic culinary skills (haha!), I decided I can salvage my dinner.

WITH CHEESE

Final end product?

SUPER YUMMY BAKED RICE!!

The rest of this post features a shameless exhibition of my past culinary successes and is dedicated to my friends who think I cannot cook. Tsk tsk...

Pasta drizzled with cheese + salad

Grilled crispy fish + seafood soup

Haddock fish pan-fried with garlic and butter

(In case it's not obvious, I didn't make the sushi)

Stir-fried Kai Lan

(Kai Lan is super hard to find in Aberdeen)

Stir-fried beans/peppers/beef + tom yam soup

-Created with tom yam paste-

(Eh, don't say I cheat ah... I don't accept comments like that unless you're Lee Kum Kee)

God Works in Strange Ways

Do you believe in the power of a prayer?

I do.

"Father" Roger moved out today.

I am free to roam the premises of my accommodation without fear of harrassment again!