よりよいこと

I read a non-textbook recently, 'Better', by Atul Gawande.

And the book had me pondering over a lot of things that doctors do in a new light. And the book is an awesome read. A must-have for all medical students. (alas, I doubt those not in the field will find interest and fathom the weight of the things the writes about.) Gawande touches very specific situations and presents these as impetus for medical students and doctors to be better doctors, and not just a masked face who prescribes medication.

But I didn't start this post to review or recommend 'Better', which I probably would if a hundred other sites hadn't already.

I'm here to say something that is a bit more closer to heart, and at times, irks me so much so that I wonder at times about the sort of people that are becoming doctors.

What does it mean to try to become a 'Better' doctor?

It means a lot of things. Among those things should be the desire to learn. To improve. To grasp every moment that this brief life offers you to become that Better doctor.

Imagine my disgust when I have to deal with less than eager medical students. People who desire nothing more than to end classes early to go back to the room and park their lazy bottom on a chair and watch drama series and soaps. Granted, we all get tired at times. But is that reason enough to dismiss opportunities? Is it even remotely reasonable to grumble about those who do desire to be Better? Despicable, the attitude of some people. Downright criminal.

I generally ignore those who choose to behave like swine-sloth hybrids and continue my own path in my own way. In most circumstances, I shrug it off as a mild case of laziness and account it as their loss. Other times I attribute it to a transient psychologically based predisposition to favour ass-warming over learning due to a primary event (i.e leaving India to return to Malaysia for good).

It does however make me want to ask some of my contemporaries one single question:

What the hell are you in medical school for?

謹賀新年

New year's eve was a pretty quiet event this year in Manipal. Having an 8a.m. class the next day is a total buzzkill.

All aside, looking back on the year that was, it was a pretty good one. At times I feel like like a wanderer, biding his time to return to a homeland, and in a strange way, it was for the best. So many things I've observed and learnt, not just medicine, but of human nature as well.

An old friend told me of a book, which I'd like to quote here:

"You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory."

-You Can't Go Home Again,Thomas Wolfe