‘A heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved.’ |
One month in AGM, and it was unexpected in some ways (eg four weeks of Geratology omgwut) and a lot like home in others. Had wanted to study here for years but life had other plans, so I never imagined that I’d actually end up here after all - especially cuz 1.5y in advance and hardcopy app and they only accept 50 elective students a year?? Am ever thankful for this opportunity and very very grateful, even for just a little bit.
Ended up scribing+++ in ward rounds, clerking a handful of acute patients in the ED, a phlebotomy or two, AMTs and MOCAs for sweet but confused old men, getting used to nonautomatic doors and taps (oops), realising where all the ‘this is an X year old gentleman’ and ‘sir, can you please XXX’ in our model exam answers come from (Here!!! Thanks, UK), bleeping everyone leftrightcenter cuz phone signals are practically nonexistent, reading discharge summaries that are fully in prose omg insane, deciphering bad handwriting as always, escaping to the weekly med student teachings and HO teachings and radiology meetings and grand ward rounds and journal clubs (A+ student is moi), stealing hot chocolate bread milk jam and microwave slots in the doctors’ mess, and spotting sickle cell disease/sarcoidosis/dubious Factor V Leiden deficiency/renal tubular acidosis type 2/Caroli syndrome!! And witnessing difficult conversations, trying very very hard not to react when Ed Sheeran’s Supermarket Flowers starts playing in an acute geriatric ward (has there ever been a song more apt?), and learning far more about the non-medical side of medicine than I expected to. But I still think we teach better back home hehe #sgpride
Studying in the Bodleain, formal dinners, free hot chocolate vending machines, Tesco-shopping, different spaghetti variations, 'crab bisque spaghetti with black kale, melted cheddar and smashed avocado + strawberry tart yoghurt and blackberries', 2am-clothes-washing, self-locking doors that are designed to create panic, board games like Catan and Oxford by Degrees.
Dragging my luggage through 20min of snow/sludge/yucks, hiding out in museums and losing my only scarf (how even..) and frozen fingers over the weekends cuz guess who kept waking up to snow in March when it hadn't snowed at all for three years, cuz of course it’s UK’s coldest March since ?1963 (my luck srsly..)
College-hopping a time or two (or many), day trips out to Blenheim Palace and London (thankful for old friends who let themselves be dragged to dessert places and art museums even though they’re studying music, put up with my failed++ navigating and let me crash and steal ice cream and chips and biscuits and milo and bread oops, Turner/Monet/Goya/Van Gogh/Pissarro, £5 musicals AND GOOD WEATHER.), and heading over to Port Meadow to walk along the Thames on a pretty-sky morning and getting my boots caked in mud :_)
Meeting old friends for tea. The four Singaporean medics for lunch (who were all meeting for the first time). New friends for dinner. HOs who invite you for dinner before they go on holiday. Medical student bops. Leaning against the room door. Conversations over champagne and fancy food and coffee walnut cake and unimpressive scones and platters of raw vegetables and hot chocolate and tea and plain water and sometimes nothing at all, and wishing that such moments weren't so fleeting.
Walking tour on the very last day.
Running for bus 14 in the morning.
20-minutes of wind battering my face every night during the long walk back up north to GTC.
And watching that sun set in the Radcliffe Observatory.
Here's to the days of learning and growing and NOT F.LEEing.
