And no, you don't pronounce it like the state.

Wow. It's been ages since I put down something decent here. Maybe because I haven't had the time to? With all these crazy things that have been happening lately, it's a wonder I can still hold a proper conversation, if only occasionally.

So today we had our very first one-on-one encounter with a real patient. Real because they really were seeking for medical attention. Hullo, they were picked out of the multitudes that come to congregate the halls of the OPD. But I don't think these people went to have their skin checked.

I had to do a physical exam on this patient who looked so harassed. Of course, these people have been sitting on stools, and have been poked at several times already. But she will forever be with me. Never mind that I wasn't supposed to diagnose her (can a hypopigmented macule with well-demarcated, non-advancing borders be fatal?). Never mind that I failed to position her properly. Never mind that I really forgot to note the absence of the secondary lesions. She was the first patient I had; the first I touched. That accounts for something, right?

All hell breaks loose when I get no sleep. Usual friendly banters morph into this ugly, uninhibited bitch fits in front of the MDL 6 people. My face gets contorted in this ugly, painful-looking way that even the least closest friend I have might reach out, pat my back, and ask me what the matter was. Well. How the stupid seats of BSLR-E were designed certainly wasn't my idea.

I'm bad with metaphors, but here goes. You know when you stub your toe on this particular nail head on this particular floorboard, you tend to put off doing something about it, because it doesn't really do anything that bad? But when the time comes that it cuts you, you just flip and you grab a hammer and decide to pull it out and throw it away, good riddance. But after a moment of heightened frenzy, you realized that you used the wrong side of the mirror. Instead of pulling out the damned thing, you pound on it with all you have, and now it's stuck in your floorboards. And you can't do anything about it. Sh8t. Oh well. Sometimes you just have to put it out of your mind.