Hello, Internet! Merry belated Christmas to you!
I've done an awful job of blogging this year. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. 2016 has been an incredibly, stupidly difficult year in many ways, and some things simply had to be put on the back burner. In fact, I've hardly written anything at all this year, never mind blog. My journal actually started collecting dust, sad and untouched in my tiny room. I'm going to make a conscious decision for this not to be the case next year, because I've missed writing, and because writing helps me sort out my thoughts like nothing else does. It's doing just that right now.
As I type, I'm sitting in my room in Malaysia, enjoying the breeze of the ceiling fan. It's been pretty hectic since I got home, and this is my first day back with no real plans. I can't tell you how glad I am to be home. Home right now is a bit different from how I remember it, but it provides the sense of comfort and normalcy I've been craving all year. Also, home is good because it's nice to be spending ringgit rather than dollars (whether Australian or Singaporean).
Speaking of Singapore, I was there recently doing part of my medical electives. I chose Singapore because it wouldn't require bothersome visa applications (while still in Australia too!), and I have family there. Also, two cousins in Singapore had had kids while I was away and I had yet to meet them! It turned out to be an excellent decision. I stayed with my cousin Cindy, who made me feel right at home. Friends and family made me feel incredibly welcome, and I could not be more thankful. The two weeks of Psychiatry I did at SGH were interesting -- I was constantly comparing the Singaporean and Australian systems in my head, so even what the MOs called boring was intriguing to me. There was a fair bit of culture shock as well, but I did my best to ride the waves, smile, and just go with it. It made me wonder how locum doctors did it, having to adjust to new systems every time they got placed somewhere new. I will say this, though: It seems that the one constant about medicine, wherever in the world you are, is that doctors' handwriting is terrible.
I think my handwriting is alright. Maybe at our graduation ceremony they'll cut a nerve supplying some muscle in our dominant hands, rendering our handwriting barely legible.
It's crazy to think that, if all goes well, we're going to be legitimate doctors this time next year. What an exciting, terrifying thought. (What an exciting, terrifying thought.) Sometimes I try not to think about it. A small part of me wants to be a kid forever, leeching off my parents' money and not having very many responsibilities. I don't want to have to deal with job applications and taxes and salary packaging and all that stuff grownups talk about. Kid me would be ecstatic that I'm finally going to live out my lifelong dream, but upon receiving word that kid me can't stick around anymore, I'm not sure how she'll feel. It's a weird position to be in.
Oh well, I'll worry about that later. Right now I'm focusing on enjoying the last long break I'll ever have -- no more wonderful, months-long uni breaks after I graduate. What an awful thought! Doing a second degree is starting to sound more and more appealing.
Excuse me while I develop a sudden, intense interest in Psychology.