thatweirdzombie

Because of PB&J

When I was little, I saw those cartoons on TV mentioning PB&J sandwich. Peanut butter and Jelly sandwich.

Growing up, my family stayed with my maternal grandparents. I remember that most mornings, my grandparents would made me a sweet sandwich made out of white bread, with (salted) butter and believe it or not, sprinkled with white sugar. The bread was not toasted, so it was super soft and it contrasted with the crunchiness of the sugar. Unconventional choice, but it was so good and probably you guys should taste them sometimes.

Afterwards, staying with my parents, they eat white bread with Nutella or Chocolate spread. And I remember their own unconventional choice, which is strawberry jam and cheese slice (!!!), my dad would toast the bread until it was dark and crispy. Until this day, this combination always baffles me, I don’t hate it, but never my first choice.

Well now that I wrote this, I am starting to understand the cause of my obsession with breads.

Peanut butter was one of those things that Indonesian people either really love or really hate. Same like peanut sauce on satays or pecels (I would describe it as Indonesian bean sprout and spinach salad). I fell in love with peanut butter ever since my grandma gave me one (she sprinkled hers with sugar though. I like mine the way it is).

So anyway, when I heard the term of PB&J. I understand the peanut butter part, not so much the jelly part. Because of my limited vocabularies at that time, I knew the word jelly but I associated it with… Jelly, which is those jiggly-almost-clear-stuff made with gelatin. In Indonesia we have jelly and pudding, to put it simply in Indonesian, jelly is the almost clear one, a pudding is jelly but with milk added so it is opaque. So in my mind at that time you actually add… jell-O to sandwich and I was confused.

Fast forward many years afterwards, I then facepalmed myself because jelly means fruit jam. Oh, that makes sense!

… wait.

Peanut butter and FRUIT JAMS?

That sounds so weird.

My sister tried the combination a few times and she said it’s nice. I never really tried them myself on a real bread, I had a few PB&J flavored doughnuts and I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it either.

Fast forward to when my sister said she loves the PB&J bagel from Two Men Bagel House when we were enjoying our short break in Singapore. I tried it and it was amazing. They used blueberry jam and some chunky peanut butter.

On Friday, because my dad’s cheeky reminder that I am currently in Surabaya and not in Singapore with them right now (He sent me the menu from Two Men Bagel House via Whatsapp. I know. My family is obsessed with Two Men Bagel House), I suddenly thought to myself that a PB&J sandwich would be good.

Only problem is, I don’t think the breads sold at Surabaya Bakeries compliments PB&J that well.

I love whole wheat breads sold here, but I think the grittiness and the texture doesn’t go well with PB&J. And considering the scandal that fell on one of the bakery chain that used to be my go to place to buy whole wheat bread, I was like, nah, don’t support nasty businesses.

Should I make Brioche bread? (there is this small lovely bakery located in a mall in East Surabaya that makes good Brioche, but too far from where I live) I know Brioche is a wonderful bread for PB&J. So I went to the grocery store and got the ingredients.

When I made the brioche, I was reminded why I love baking bread in the first place. I love the smell of yeast, butter and sugar. I love the way you can knead the messy dough into something so smooth and elastic, punching and slamming the dough down was an additional fun (and a way to release pent up anger). I love seeing the dough rise and letting the air out from the risen dough (so fun). And the smell of freshly baked bread is probably the best smell in the world.

I guess you’ve seen a pic of the brioche that I have made, I snapped a pic of the bottom part of the brioche, which I called, the brioche’s butt.

Look how cute it is. So puffy and cute.

I should stop oggling at my bread’s bottom half and probably get a life.

30 minutes after the bread out of the oven, I sliced it thick, toast it lightly (because it will fall apart when you spread something on a freshly baked brioche) and ate it with chunky peanut butter and strawberry jam.

It was awesome.

I guess that’s how my weekend went.

Maybe I should go out more.

To That One Patient and Her Mother…

Happy new year everybody! May 2020 be a better year for all of us.

Today is my Dad’s birthday. Happy birthday Dad, I wish him a good health and happiness for every single thing he does.

My Dad always wanted me to become a Doctor. Growing up in a family of doctors, he spent his childhood running away from my late Grandpa because he didn’t want to get injected with medications. I guess that’s why he didn’t become a doctor himself (he didn’t say this but I suppose this is the real reason anyway).

This morning I suddenly remembered about this one particular patient and her mom. And I want to write a blog post about them today.

Let’s go back to March of 2016.

I was in my surgery rotation in a small-ish government hospital in Surabaya. In that hospital each of the HO (in Indonesia we call them DM (Dokter Muda) or KO-ASS) were required to do ER rotation for 2 weeks. Imagine. Spending 2 weeks in the ER. Most of my peers surgery rotation were in my university hospital which requires them to do ER rotation for 2 weeks also, but not continuously.

By day one it was going well, a bit of shock and adaptation but the ER team were very nice and welcoming, which ease the transition. But fatigue and overworked caught up on us and by the first week we were exhausted.

There was this one day, when the ER was packed, it was quite late into the night after a packed day. I remember seeing this one female patient clutching her stomach in pain and she was queueing for the triage with her husband and mother.

Concerned, I walked up to her despite the head nurse saying it’s okay, I should sit down and take a break, my friend said the same thing.

I asked her what’s wrong. Her mother snarkily replied.

“Who are you?” Probably referring to the scrubs I was wearing.

“I’m Debby, I’m the Surgery HO in the ER.”

“I want to see the doctor now! Why the only the HO?” her mother replied.

“This is the ER ma’am, you are currently waiting to be assessed in the triage, I could help your daughter by taking notes and main complaints and present it to the ER doctor, it would work out faster too.” (Give myself a pat on my back for not losing my cool)

She grumpily agreed and I took the patient’s history. I concluded she should go to the OB-GYN ER (the hospital have a separate ER for OB-GYN patients) because she was pregnant and of course it would be faster because she didn’t have to queue for the triage.

But her mother angrily replied why should they go to the OB-GYN ER and that I’m wasting her time asking these questions. So she angrily stormed off, leaving me dazed there.

I remember being very sad treated like that. I know I wasn’t a fully fledged doctor at that time but I was concerned and I worry about her daughter.

I told the head nurse and he assured me it’s not my fault and I wanted what’s the best for the patient, I told my friend and he said it’s okay. But wrecked with guilt I went out and sat down near the main road. Taking deep breaths and controlling myself so I wouldn’t cry.

Maybe it was the fatigue and I was tired. I question myself whether it’s the path I want to take. When you are genuinely concerned about the well-being of your patient but this is the response you get. They are telling you that you are not good enough. When you want to stay in your City with your family, people will tell you that you are selfish for not going to some remote place to serve.

I wanted to quit right then. I remember building the scenario in my mind, what would I say to my parents and how I would tell them to soften the blow. What would I do after I quit and walked away.

I didn’t tell my friend that day, because I could see he was tired too and it’s not fair that I burden him with this. I wanted to pick up my phone and call my friends but they were having their surgery rotation too. I went to sleep with a broken heart and broken spirit.

The next day was packed as usual. Being in one of the busiest hospital in Surabaya, there would almost be no room to sit down and breathe. Our breaks were the morning reports, time to eat and showers.

I remember one of the ER Doctors told us, a female patient, 19 years old, having stomach pain and fever. Probable appendicitis. He asked us to check on her and take some history.

Because it’s a female patient, I went in and asked her some questions. She was very friendly and she was still smiling when she saw me even though she was in pain.

She came with her mother, and her mother tapped me and called me “sus” which is what some people call the nurses in Indonesian. In my university hospital the nurses didn’t really like the nickname because it reminded them of a babysitter or nanny. Nothing against babysitters or nannies but they definitely didn’t want to be mistreated. So they always tell us to call them “mbak” which translated into “miss”.

I said to her “I’m sorry, I’m not a nanny. You can call me ‘miss’.”

My friend overheard this and he said “She’s an HO, not a doctor yet but she will be. Please don’t call her ‘sus’ you can call her ‘miss’ but not ‘sus’,” as he explained to the patient’s mother.

“Oh, I’m very sorry!” as she apologized to me. I said it’s okay. But I was still in a horrible mood after the previous day, so I didn’t really smile to her that much.

I follow up her daughter throughout the time they were in the ER. Nothing special just what I did everyday with every patient.

The result was appendicitis and she needed to be referred because the hospital operating rooms were full.

When they were about to leave the hospital, I was focused on other patients follow up. My friend called me and he said the mother wanted to see me.

I obliged and asked her what’s wrong.

She held my hands and she looked me into my eyes and she said these exact words, “Thank you doc, you have been very caring to my daughter, you are very kind and gentle. You are a great doctor. I’m sorry that I offended you, I know you are tired and there is a long way to go for you. But don’t give up, you will be a great doctor. Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. I wish you all the best in life.”

I was shocked as I heard those words from her mouth. I stuttered a thank you for her and her daughter. I am sorry too if I was snarky. She held my hands and she said it’s okay.

She and her daughter left in the ambulance to be referred.

I left the ER to the same hiding spot yesterday and I just cried there. Feeling like a horrible person for ever giving up on this. I felt like God just sent someone to answer my doubts and worries.

Thank you for your kind words. Every single word made me feel so appreciated. If I hadn’t meet you and your daughter that day I would not be here today. On my last burn out I remembered you. It kept me going, it kept me from giving up on my dreams.

I am sorry I didn’t give you my contact and we didn’t stay in touch. But I’m very grateful for you, I pray that you are well today, I pray that your daughter finish her university, I wish you all the best in life, may you always be loved by every one around you.

Thank you.

Always be kind to every one you meet. Thank you for teaching me that.

What do I Want to Achieve This Year?

Easy. I had enough hard falls because of too much expectations.

This zombie will:

Work harder

Have more fun in everything I do

Always be grateful

Amen.

My 2019

I’m definitely not the kind of person who would jot down reflections every end of the week. Much less the end of the year.

One of my colleagues asked me whether I write diaries or journals. And the answer is that I don’t, I write planners and to do lists.

But. Staying true to my 2019 resolution:

Be healthier

Be happier

Be more grateful

It’s only appropriate I do some reflections by the end of the year.

My 2019 resolutions were a big contrast to my 2018 resolutions, or the lack of resolution to be precise.

I’m happy to say I achieved them all.

Especially the happier part.

Being a melancholic individual, reaching a state of happiness is somewhat a daunting and almost impossible task.

That’s why I’m grateful for everyone around me.

2019 has been a wonderful year. A year that showed me the love and care my friends gave for me, the year that made me realize that our friendship goes deeper and the bond wouldn’t easily be severed because of distances nor conflicts.

Let’s recap the whole year shall we?

January

Started new year in the hospital. I had my night shift on the 31st. Not too bad. 2 admissions and we got to see the fireworks despite not being on the higher grounds.

I don’t exactly remember where I made my resolution. But for the sake of this writing let’s just say it was made as I was driving home to Surabaya. Like in the movies.

February

February was a… weird month for me.

Celebrated Chinese New Year with the worst sore throat. Which probably was a bad omen. Anyway!

My best friend, H, got married! I didn’t become a bridesmaid but I was asked to give a speech for the night reception. Which somehow I complied to (because it’s her wedding day. I got the feeling I wouldn’t be this complying if it weren’t).

And I finished my goverment requirements! I bid the city of Gresik goodbye and went home for good.

March

Nothing remarkable happened this month. I wind down and enjoyed my time unemployed. I went to Singapore, Jakarta and Bali. Generally having fun and catching up with my friends.

But this is the month I bid my best friend, J, goodbye. She’ll be going back to her hometown and spend the whole year to get recommendations for her next step of becoming a specialist.

People went away to follow their paths. This month reminded me that in the end we are just individuals trying our best in life.

April

April is when I decided I want to try new hobbies. Which is… making bread!

It all started after eating a few really good french toasts, I asked myself why I couldn’t create similar ones at home. I watched youtube tutorials and decided to give baking bread a go.

My first attempt of making brioche. Which turned out great and let me say probably one of my proudest moment 🤣

I experimented making bagels, pretzels and sourdoughs afterwards. But I won’t bore you guys of bread pictures.

May

The month I decided to follow my dreams.

It was also the month I started filling clinics and working sporadically.

June

The month of trainings and preparations.

I had my Advanced Trauma Life Support training and it rekindled my love for the field of study close to my heart. Even though I won’t be a surgeon, but surgery surprisingly has been my favorite study throughout my time in medical school.

I also got to know my lecturers personally. With them giving me full support and prayers for me so that I could move forward and reach my dreams.

July

My Australian trip.

The time when I asked for so many signs and answers to every uncertainties in my life. Is it quarter life crisis? Probably.

Being in another country made me take a step back and view my problems from different angles.

And in the end it’s my life. I have every rights to decide what makes me happy.

August

The most exhausting and excruciating month of the year.

I was drained physically and mentally. So much fights, anger, and tears during this month.

The month that I ended things with someone very toxic. Walking away was hard to do, but I did. It felt… liberating. For this I am really, really thankful for my friends, especially the guy friends who helped me get through.

Being with someone toxic made you believe that you were a horrible person. It made you doubt yourself. For someone who worked so hard to believe in herself, having someone like this reduced every effort into none.

I remember crying so hard and asking myself,

Am I a horrible person?

Do I always have a hidden agenda for everything I do?

When I walked away, I remember being so tired, I asked for God’s forgiveness for every single things I have done wrong.

Even though it was a month of bad things. It was also the month full of good things.

I started my job at my dream hospital.

I remember loving my friends even more because they were always there with me.

So even though it was a tiring month. It was also the month of change and gratefulness

September

Month of adjustments. New environment, new colleagues, new schedules.

A lot of adjustments happening in this month. Honing so many different skills, as a doctor, as a colleague, as a friend.

Knowing that I was one more step closer to my dream happened as well.

October

I remember waiting nervously for the results of the most important test of this year.

It was almost funny actually.

The exam results showed up and people were congratulating me left and right. People were celebrating with me and I remember feeling so blessed to share the happiness with everyone.

It was never because of my own work. It was always because of God and prayers and well wishes from everyone.

November

Another month of new beginnings.

A new start. A place if I were to tell past me I would be in, I would have not believe it.

December

The month where I bid my goodbyes to my colleagues from the dream hospital.

It was my birthday month as well. I was never really big on birthdays. But I’m happy to be celebrating it with my friends.

And also my friend D got married on my birthday too! It’s really nice to reconnect with university friends on this happy day!

Today

I wish that my 2020 would be better than my 2019. I wish I could be a better person than who I was before.

It’s a bit early for resolutions but I’ll keep it simple like in 2019.

See you guys soon!

Everything Just Fell Into Place

A few months ago…

I questioned every decision I made.

I would have asked myself if I had made the right choices.

Spent my days daydreaming of different scenarios.

Wondering how my life would have been if I hadn’t become a doctor.

I kept my mouth shut most of the time but lamented to a few of my (un)lucky friends. And I left wondering why I am so lucky to have them.

Slowly but surely, everything just… fell into place.

From questioning to finding the answers.

That every decision I made lead me to today.

Maybe all those wondering and questioning were a waste of time.

Because we are where we are supposed to be right now. The right place and right time.

On Burn Outs and Life Choices

Hey everyone.

It has been (more than) a year since my last post.

Last time I wrote here, I was talking about starting my internship year in a new city yadda, yadda. A year later, I’m a full fledged doctor and have the freedom to choose the career path I want to take.

(I feel sad writing this down now. Since my “K” and “V” and “9” eys (see?) suddenly became sticky and annoying. But I’ll try to do my best writing this post)

So, what happened?

Let’s just say I finished my internship with some good memories and some bad memories. People I’ll cherish forever (and became my best friends) and a few people I don’t want to see anymore. Maybe that’s a story for another day. But yeah. Moving on.

After 1.5 months of lazing around at home (and waiting for my medical practice registration number), traveling around, me and my best friend, M, decided to finally submit our job applications and get our lazy butts up.

M and I had different targets and different qualifications. M finished all her training and I was one training short. No surprise she got called in two weeks time.

While yours truly here? I didn’t hear anything in 3 months.

No worries, I filled my time with filling in clinics and some random jobs. And I travelled to my favorite country (to travel. Don’t get me wrong), Australia. Before completing that one training I actually got called by one of the hospital I submitted my application to. Long story short, I got accepted but I declined the offer, since I have different life target in a time frame that the hospital couldn’t comply to. No regrets, because M took their offer, and I always think that M is a better fit with their vision and work ethics.

(M if you’re reading this, I’m so proud of you! :*)

But after my trip to Australia, I was contacted by a hospital regarding my job application. Long story short, the hospital could fulfill my request and now I’m here. And let me tell you a secret, since 5 years ago, I have always wanted to work here. 🙂 So moral of the story, never let anyone stop you from dreaming and hoping.

So that’s my update!

And today, I want to talk about a doctor’s silent (but deadly) friend. Burn outs. Or burning out.

Burning out is a condition that I’m sure someone had experienced once in a while in their lifetime. In the medical profession we kept it in the dark, because who wants to hear that their doctor is questioning their life choices? Or not feeling their best mentally to treat someone? Well, let me tell you, we are human too and we feel those things sometimes.

From the demanding patients, the overbearing work hours, the injustice we received from the health care systems, we question our life choices every once in a while.

I had it twice. One when I was still in HO (or in Indonesia we call it DM or KO-ASS) for maybe a… day? (it was quite bad though, I was ready to pack my bags and wrote to my university that I am done. Story for another day) and one lasting… 2 years. And believe it or not, only recently I managed to get through it.

For 2 years I was struggling with a burn out and I didn’t even realized that it was a burn out. People around me were quick to point it out, saying that I don’t have that fire in my eyes and the energy I have when going to the hospital, or learning something new. I brushed them off, saying that I’m just tired.

In my internship year, the hospital I was in, turned out to be the one I definitely not share values with. I won’t bad mouth them here, but I was unhappy, and it worsen my burn out even more.

Because it was subtle and I was on denial that I was having a burn out, I didn’t talk to anyone about it. Looking back, I should’ve talked to my friends about it.

Until a few months ago, someone (not that close to me) pointed out that I was having a burn out. And I’d confessed, “Maybe I am.”

And the response was, “Just quit. What’s the problem? I work a different job, not what I studied for. Why don’t you do that too?”

That hit me so hard.

No. I don’t want to quit.

No. I don’t want to let go of the thing I work so hard for.

No. I don’t want to waste all those blood, sweat and tears for nothing.

No. I don’t want to break my family hearts.

When I say those points the response I got was a shrug.

Oh boy, sometimes being with the wrong person made you know what you really, really want.

I remember when I said “I am doing my interview with a hospital.” and gushing about how happy I was being called for an interview since I really, really want to work here.

The response I got was somewhat of a killjoy. I brushed it off. And I know I don’t want to be with someone like this. What if one day I got accepted into a specialist and if the specialist is not something they expect it to be?

(Oh why won’t you become a pediatrician? oh why you won’t become a cardiologist? I’m shuddering just thinking about it. I admire every doctors and I believe that they have their reasons of choosing their specialty. But being with someone who questions my choices without even giving me valid points? No, thank you)

So yeah. Probably being with the wrong person sucks but I got to hand it to them that it made me conquer my burn out. Also the realization that I deserve better than this.

For my fellow doctors, please talk to someone about your struggles. I recently talked to a friend’s friend and we talk about burn outs and realizing we have a lot in common. I’m glad they decided to talk to me about their struggles and they heard my struggles too. We talked about what made us chose to be a doctor and we talked about the things we love and the things we struggle with.

I made amazing friends as I become a doctor.

I met amazing teachers and life mentors.

I met supportive patients and those who were always grateful and thankful.

And most importantly, I see God’s work inside my life.

Those reasons are enough. Enough to triumph the bad things, enough to silence every doubts, enough to give strength to push through.

For now, those thoughts are enough for me.

Embarking a New Journey

One more week.

One more week and I’ll be in a new hospital. I won’t see the people I see for the past 6 years. I will be in a new city. I’ll be living in a new place. I won’t be seeing my family everyday.

That scares me. As much as I don’t like to admit it. It does. When I think that by next week a lot will be different, I can’t help to think that maybe I took granted my clinical years and the people in it.

At least I’ll only be one hour away from Surabaya.

At least I can go home once a week (even more).

The self comforting words self automatically formed inside my head every time I am counting down the days.

I’ll miss my friends. The best people I met and been friends with for the past 6 years. I’ll miss the workflow between me and the people I know. It’s comforting to know that because of the advances of technology I can always contact them, it’s also nice to know the friends that are furthest away from Surabaya will only take 3 hours drive.

The most bitter goodbyes make the best hello agains. The sweetest hellos make the worst goodbyes. That just the way it goes.