Its almost upon me. The dreaded exams. Yet I'm surprisingly relaxed, for apparently no good reason since I've only studied properly 3 of 20 modules. The stupid perfectionist and procrastinator inside me decided I would make a shorter version of a popular anatomy book amongst medical students whilst studying anatomy. Although I do love anatomy, I'm now going to phail because I've ignored all the other subjects.
I want to be stressed and be 'hitting the books' but my mind seems to be ignorant of the impending doom I am about to face on Friday. This is even more strange considering I was incredibly worried and stressed during 4 weeks of Easter holiday, each day of which I worked fairly hard but after running most of the marathon I seem to be limping towards the finish line. In fact, I would extend the analogy to having broken a leg and now crawling towards the finishing line leaving a trail of blood in my wake.
I can only seek solace in the fact that despite how matter hard I try (or lack thereof) Allah's (SWT) command will prevail. I think as I limp, I should be hitting the prayer mat more than the books. But then again Allah (SWT) always helps those who help themselves. As with most things in life, its a balance between the two.
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
Tuesday, 15 May 2007
The Ethics of the Matrix
I was talking to a different Chinese student today. We got talking about management, a compulsory component of the course he is taking. He started talking about how most management techniques are simple and actually common sense. I definitely think he's right; a lot of management is fairly simple and extracting the best from a human being isn't that big a deal. I talked about one of Google's management techniques: the 20% rule - its so simple yet so effective - it came fruitful in the form of Google News (You can find a lecture by Larry Page and Sergey Brin here on the 20% rule). Anyway, that's another story; the point is we got talking about extracting the best from people.
He said that ultimately people aren't pleased by money, short hours etc. but they want to feel like they've achieved something and done something worthwhile. I agree with him there too but then he suggested manipulation of the human brain to create an environment and state of mind where people would be happy to work and be pleased - but work for dirt cheap - like the Matrix. Of course people would be none the wiser, and what's more they'd be happy too he argued. Maybe so, but deceiving someone from the truth of the real world to make them happy doesn't make the former a good action. In other words, a wrong action with the right intent is still a wrong action.
We should extrapolate this to our lives today. The world is temporary, and the after-life is eternal. So, using the analogy, we're like the people in the Matrix being told we're in the Matrix and explained what the Matrix is. Just like Neo was told what the Matrix was by Morpheus. How can we still continue to deceive ourselves into living for this world, if we know about the after-life? Ultimately the question is: Will you take the red pill or the blue pill?
He said that ultimately people aren't pleased by money, short hours etc. but they want to feel like they've achieved something and done something worthwhile. I agree with him there too but then he suggested manipulation of the human brain to create an environment and state of mind where people would be happy to work and be pleased - but work for dirt cheap - like the Matrix. Of course people would be none the wiser, and what's more they'd be happy too he argued. Maybe so, but deceiving someone from the truth of the real world to make them happy doesn't make the former a good action. In other words, a wrong action with the right intent is still a wrong action.
We should extrapolate this to our lives today. The world is temporary, and the after-life is eternal. So, using the analogy, we're like the people in the Matrix being told we're in the Matrix and explained what the Matrix is. Just like Neo was told what the Matrix was by Morpheus. How can we still continue to deceive ourselves into living for this world, if we know about the after-life? Ultimately the question is: Will you take the red pill or the blue pill?
Sunday, 13 May 2007
My Journey to Medicine
I'll begin in the seventeenth year of my life when I was just about to begin the second year of my A-Levels. In the earlier part of the year I was deciding on some sort of career path and I was thinking of following a career in Physics. Although I really enjoyed physics, Pa (my father) persuaded me to follow a medical career. Everyone thinks I wanted to do medicine because my parents told me to, but then I thought about the usefulness of Physics compared to medicine and decided I would be of more use to society as a medic. (Edit: No offence intended to physicists. I think ultimately I wouldn't have been happy as a physicist).
At this stage, I knew medicine was a tough subject and difficult to get into but I had confidence in my ability and I thought I was clever enough to get into medicine.I think this is what brought me down later on: overconfidence and denial of the possibility of failure, I thought that anyone in their right mind would never reject me from their university. Failure wasn't possible, probably unthinkable.(Edit: I came so very very close. I wasn't arrogant as such, I was just totally ignorant of the competition involved)
The first few seeds of the love of medicine sprang during my work experience which I did around the time of my seventeenth birthday. Earlier that year, I had completed a form to carry out work experience in the L&D hospital but I had never sent it off. Thank God, I had never sent it off. If I had I may have lost my interest in medicine altogether. (Edit: Later a friend told me his work experience at the L&D was one of the worst experiences of his life). Luckily, we were close with Nabil Ahmed's (fake names used) family in Newcastle (NA is a doctor; an excellent doctor in fact) and he arranged for me some work experience at Newcastle Freeman Hospital in the ophthalmology department. I am forever in debt to him and his family who cared for me that week, one of the best weeks of my life. I was quite nervous about staying with Gulman uncle; he had really warmed to my sister but, because of my shyness, Uncle and I never really connected and I thought I was going to have a hell of a time coping with Gulman Uncle's boisterous sense of humour. I remember Uncle calling me to check the flight details to Newcastle: trying to be polite and not wanting to be a pain in the backside I said I would get a taxi from the airport to their address.
Of course I was expecting a refusal of this invitation(Edit: As is customary in Pakistani culture. The whole invitation- refusal thing is more than just a tradition but a science), but not quite in the manner expected. I was nervous to begin with but Uncle got so vexed on the phone at my offer I was wondering whether I should book a spot at a cemetery in Newcastle in a weeks time to save Uncle the bother.
The flight to Newcastle was fine and as soon as I came into the terminal I saw Uncle and family waiting for me, warmly greeting me. They asked the usual questions that you ask someone who had a flight (Edit: I dont know about you but when somebody has just been on a flight I go through a structured set of questions - especially if they've just been to Pakistan) and commented on the weather. We got in the old red BMW, with uncle driving and I commented, during an awkward pause "So the taxi didn't come then". This poor attempt at rebuffing uncles humour with some of my own didn't go down well with him and after that he just thought I was a cheeky little git.
That weekend went very nicely, and Musa (Nabil's son) and I seemed to get along great. Uncle appreciated my interest in Musa. Anyway, on Monday morning I got ready to go to the hospital with Nabil. From the moment I sat in the consultation room I loved it. I learnt so much just by sitting in the consultation room listening to patients complaints and taking notes, it was incredible. I didn't really observe the doctor's history taking skills and clinical examination but more on the academic side about how diseases might develop etc. Some lunchtimes I used to report back to Nabil on the cases I went through by reviewing my notes and recalling consultations from there. I gained so much confidence that week not just from the hospital, but by staying with their family. The social interaction did me a world of good, not that it was completely an alien concept to me but I had never be on equal terms with the people I was talking to.(Edit: Up to that point I was socially retarded. I still have my moments, even though I'm going into a profession which is all about communication). Here, I seemed to be listened to and engaged in argument and discussion alike with my views being respected and being treated like a normal human adult. That week, on a quiet day I asked one of the doctors if i could practice using the ophthalmoscope to focus on the retina. I had tried it earlier with Dr. Griffiths but it didn't go too well.(Edit: It was literally what you would see if you stuck your head in the sand). This doctor, some Greek bloke, taught me how to use the ophthalmoscope properly and I saw the blind spot and blood vessels at the back of the eye quite clearly on a passing medical student.(Edit: Just grabbed her from the corridor and sat her down on the chair) I was so happy that day, and the doctor was quite pleased at my willingness to learn and joy at succeeding in using the ophthalmoscope.
There was one episode at the end of the week where I was playing cricket with some of the young lads on the common encircled by the houses, one of which was Uncle's. I was batting and hit the ball behind square and in the air and the ball hit the Micra that Nabil drove. It hit the right mirror and the mirror popped out. What were the chances of that? Well, the family noticed and at first thought it was one of the boys rather than me who hit the shot. I didn't want to get them in trouble so I confessed to it being me who hit it. Uncle was so vexed. I managed to fix the mirror back into its slot in the Micra, but stupidly before I had managed to do so I offered to uncle to pay for the damage. This obviously angered Uncle and he shouted at me and commented on my inability to pay. I was shaken and proceeded to my room to avoid further embarrassment at the hands of Uncle and I reflected on how I had ruined a perfectly good week. Chachi (auntie) was very apologetic for Uncle, I didn't see why, as far I could I was totally blameworthy and I had fallen into the trap of vexing Uncle by simply opening my trap at the wrong time. (Edit: Sometimes I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed) Chachi seemed to later blame it on his developing neurological disease causing a tremor in one of his hands, but to be honest I didn't see the connection.(Edit: In general, it s quite difficult to see what is going on in someone's brain) Then the following day I had planned to go in Salwar Kameez to the airport, which didn't please uncle as he saw me in the morning and asked me to get changed. Also at the airport he commented on how no-one else was wearing salwar kameez. To be honest I didn't care about what others were wearing and didn't see the logic behind this statement apart form increased exposure to cold. When I got back to Luton, I told no-one of these episodes and I don't see why anyone should need to know. Despite these setbacks my parents commented on how I was a visibly different person to beforehand, much more mature etc. Well after a few weeks I fell back into my normal old self again and continued in the same vein ever since. (Edit: Now and then you get the odd hameorrhage) However, I have never forgotten that week of my life, and formed a central part to my career decision and outline of what do with my life.
It turns out later that perhaps Uncle is developing Parkinsons disease. He does have a tremor in his left hand but Chachi next summer used it to explain his short-temperedness with me. I didn't believe it a jot (not that he has Parkinsons but that this is the cause of his short-temperedness).
I hope this first installment is interesting. I'm still trying to figure how to manipulate Blogger to show only part of the story and so when you click a link it shows the entire story on a separate page. Its incredibly basic stuff I know but bear with me as I 'learn the ropes'.
At this stage, I knew medicine was a tough subject and difficult to get into but I had confidence in my ability and I thought I was clever enough to get into medicine.I think this is what brought me down later on: overconfidence and denial of the possibility of failure, I thought that anyone in their right mind would never reject me from their university. Failure wasn't possible, probably unthinkable.(Edit: I came so very very close. I wasn't arrogant as such, I was just totally ignorant of the competition involved)
The first few seeds of the love of medicine sprang during my work experience which I did around the time of my seventeenth birthday. Earlier that year, I had completed a form to carry out work experience in the L&D hospital but I had never sent it off. Thank God, I had never sent it off. If I had I may have lost my interest in medicine altogether. (Edit: Later a friend told me his work experience at the L&D was one of the worst experiences of his life). Luckily, we were close with Nabil Ahmed's (fake names used) family in Newcastle (NA is a doctor; an excellent doctor in fact) and he arranged for me some work experience at Newcastle Freeman Hospital in the ophthalmology department. I am forever in debt to him and his family who cared for me that week, one of the best weeks of my life. I was quite nervous about staying with Gulman uncle; he had really warmed to my sister but, because of my shyness, Uncle and I never really connected and I thought I was going to have a hell of a time coping with Gulman Uncle's boisterous sense of humour. I remember Uncle calling me to check the flight details to Newcastle: trying to be polite and not wanting to be a pain in the backside I said I would get a taxi from the airport to their address.
Of course I was expecting a refusal of this invitation(Edit: As is customary in Pakistani culture. The whole invitation- refusal thing is more than just a tradition but a science), but not quite in the manner expected. I was nervous to begin with but Uncle got so vexed on the phone at my offer I was wondering whether I should book a spot at a cemetery in Newcastle in a weeks time to save Uncle the bother.
The flight to Newcastle was fine and as soon as I came into the terminal I saw Uncle and family waiting for me, warmly greeting me. They asked the usual questions that you ask someone who had a flight (Edit: I dont know about you but when somebody has just been on a flight I go through a structured set of questions - especially if they've just been to Pakistan) and commented on the weather. We got in the old red BMW, with uncle driving and I commented, during an awkward pause "So the taxi didn't come then". This poor attempt at rebuffing uncles humour with some of my own didn't go down well with him and after that he just thought I was a cheeky little git.
That weekend went very nicely, and Musa (Nabil's son) and I seemed to get along great. Uncle appreciated my interest in Musa. Anyway, on Monday morning I got ready to go to the hospital with Nabil. From the moment I sat in the consultation room I loved it. I learnt so much just by sitting in the consultation room listening to patients complaints and taking notes, it was incredible. I didn't really observe the doctor's history taking skills and clinical examination but more on the academic side about how diseases might develop etc. Some lunchtimes I used to report back to Nabil on the cases I went through by reviewing my notes and recalling consultations from there. I gained so much confidence that week not just from the hospital, but by staying with their family. The social interaction did me a world of good, not that it was completely an alien concept to me but I had never be on equal terms with the people I was talking to.(Edit: Up to that point I was socially retarded. I still have my moments, even though I'm going into a profession which is all about communication). Here, I seemed to be listened to and engaged in argument and discussion alike with my views being respected and being treated like a normal human adult. That week, on a quiet day I asked one of the doctors if i could practice using the ophthalmoscope to focus on the retina. I had tried it earlier with Dr. Griffiths but it didn't go too well.(Edit: It was literally what you would see if you stuck your head in the sand). This doctor, some Greek bloke, taught me how to use the ophthalmoscope properly and I saw the blind spot and blood vessels at the back of the eye quite clearly on a passing medical student.(Edit: Just grabbed her from the corridor and sat her down on the chair) I was so happy that day, and the doctor was quite pleased at my willingness to learn and joy at succeeding in using the ophthalmoscope.
There was one episode at the end of the week where I was playing cricket with some of the young lads on the common encircled by the houses, one of which was Uncle's. I was batting and hit the ball behind square and in the air and the ball hit the Micra that Nabil drove. It hit the right mirror and the mirror popped out. What were the chances of that? Well, the family noticed and at first thought it was one of the boys rather than me who hit the shot. I didn't want to get them in trouble so I confessed to it being me who hit it. Uncle was so vexed. I managed to fix the mirror back into its slot in the Micra, but stupidly before I had managed to do so I offered to uncle to pay for the damage. This obviously angered Uncle and he shouted at me and commented on my inability to pay. I was shaken and proceeded to my room to avoid further embarrassment at the hands of Uncle and I reflected on how I had ruined a perfectly good week. Chachi (auntie) was very apologetic for Uncle, I didn't see why, as far I could I was totally blameworthy and I had fallen into the trap of vexing Uncle by simply opening my trap at the wrong time. (Edit: Sometimes I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed) Chachi seemed to later blame it on his developing neurological disease causing a tremor in one of his hands, but to be honest I didn't see the connection.(Edit: In general, it s quite difficult to see what is going on in someone's brain) Then the following day I had planned to go in Salwar Kameez to the airport, which didn't please uncle as he saw me in the morning and asked me to get changed. Also at the airport he commented on how no-one else was wearing salwar kameez. To be honest I didn't care about what others were wearing and didn't see the logic behind this statement apart form increased exposure to cold. When I got back to Luton, I told no-one of these episodes and I don't see why anyone should need to know. Despite these setbacks my parents commented on how I was a visibly different person to beforehand, much more mature etc. Well after a few weeks I fell back into my normal old self again and continued in the same vein ever since. (Edit: Now and then you get the odd hameorrhage) However, I have never forgotten that week of my life, and formed a central part to my career decision and outline of what do with my life.
It turns out later that perhaps Uncle is developing Parkinsons disease. He does have a tremor in his left hand but Chachi next summer used it to explain his short-temperedness with me. I didn't believe it a jot (not that he has Parkinsons but that this is the cause of his short-temperedness).
I hope this first installment is interesting. I'm still trying to figure how to manipulate Blogger to show only part of the story and so when you click a link it shows the entire story on a separate page. Its incredibly basic stuff I know but bear with me as I 'learn the ropes'.
What have I learnt today?
Aside from the anatomy of the abdominal wall, its arterial supply and inguinal canal; a great deal.
I stay in halls of residence. Now and again I go and visit another Chinese medic on the floor above mine. I visit this evening and as we chat, his roommate enters. The latter, has had one too many 'special brews' and engages in conversation with us both. However, this story isn't going where you think its going.
Although the roommate makes a few remarks about Jews, seemingly to provoke me, he manages to talk with reasonable sense. He points out that Abrahamic religions are quite similar and then asks 'why do they have so much beef with each other?' with specific attention to the argument between Jews and Muslims. I point out what the Qur'an tells us about the Children of Israel and their dealings with their (and our) Prophets and how they seemed to know of the truth but not act upon it (See Qur'an 5:78-81). On reflection, I think this shouldn't be a reason for Muslims to dislike Jews. The accounts of the Jews dealings with the Prophets are there to serve as a reminder and a warning to the Ummah. The hate created between Muslims and the Jews is simply weakness and failure to comprehend the purpose of these accounts on the part of the Muslims. The hate is the fault of both sides though. Allah (SWT) says with reference to the Jews "... Every time they kindle the fire of war, Allah doth extinguish it..."(5:64), such is the mercy of Allah (SWT)
He then asks why Muslims and Jews are still arguing to this day. I point out the Israel-Palestine conflict, however, in this case 'the beef' is between Muslims and Zionists. Its just that Muslims are conflating Zionists with Jews. The only problem I personally have with the state of Israel is its creation of settlements in Palestinian territories. However, the bad sentiment for each other on both sides is likely to linger for some time, even with the removal of these settlements. Its sad the human race can't forgive very easily, made even worse that pride prevents us from even asking for it.
This encounter reminds me of another, where I was walking back to halls one night. Eyes firmly fixed to the ground in front of me, I'm startled when some passing middle-aged woman in the middle of the street suddenly asks me ' Excuse me, are you allowed to talk to woman?' No, that isn't a spelling mistake, she had a foreign accent. I sidestep to maintain a cautionary distance, as I smell the drink in her breath, and reply 'Yes, but what exactly do you want?' She herself, is a Christian. She tells me not to become an extremist (assumption upon seeing the beard I guess) she hates the use of religion as a tool to commit acts of violence. Conversation developed from there, and I was surprised at how much I agreed with her. She even went to the point of saying that ' when I am sick, I hope I am in your hands'. I like to think that's not the drink talking.
So what have I learnt? Not to be judgmental. Just because someone had a tipple, doesn't mean I should brand them or assume they are of decreased intellectual capability. I hope I can apply this to my future practise; where I don't judge smokers, drug takers, rabbit chasers (?) or any person by their habits or lifestyle.Anything else? People questioning your faith shouldn't immediately instigate some defensive approach. If you give their questions thought, be assured that Islam has the answer. Perhaps there is a confidence issue in our own faith which Muslims need to address that causes some to go on the counterattack. I pray that Allah (SWT), المتين (The Firm, The Steadfast) instills within Muslims firm faith. Ameen.
I stay in halls of residence. Now and again I go and visit another Chinese medic on the floor above mine. I visit this evening and as we chat, his roommate enters. The latter, has had one too many 'special brews' and engages in conversation with us both. However, this story isn't going where you think its going.
Although the roommate makes a few remarks about Jews, seemingly to provoke me, he manages to talk with reasonable sense. He points out that Abrahamic religions are quite similar and then asks 'why do they have so much beef with each other?' with specific attention to the argument between Jews and Muslims. I point out what the Qur'an tells us about the Children of Israel and their dealings with their (and our) Prophets and how they seemed to know of the truth but not act upon it (See Qur'an 5:78-81). On reflection, I think this shouldn't be a reason for Muslims to dislike Jews. The accounts of the Jews dealings with the Prophets are there to serve as a reminder and a warning to the Ummah. The hate created between Muslims and the Jews is simply weakness and failure to comprehend the purpose of these accounts on the part of the Muslims. The hate is the fault of both sides though. Allah (SWT) says with reference to the Jews "... Every time they kindle the fire of war, Allah doth extinguish it..."(5:64), such is the mercy of Allah (SWT)
He then asks why Muslims and Jews are still arguing to this day. I point out the Israel-Palestine conflict, however, in this case 'the beef' is between Muslims and Zionists. Its just that Muslims are conflating Zionists with Jews. The only problem I personally have with the state of Israel is its creation of settlements in Palestinian territories. However, the bad sentiment for each other on both sides is likely to linger for some time, even with the removal of these settlements. Its sad the human race can't forgive very easily, made even worse that pride prevents us from even asking for it.
This encounter reminds me of another, where I was walking back to halls one night. Eyes firmly fixed to the ground in front of me, I'm startled when some passing middle-aged woman in the middle of the street suddenly asks me ' Excuse me, are you allowed to talk to woman?' No, that isn't a spelling mistake, she had a foreign accent. I sidestep to maintain a cautionary distance, as I smell the drink in her breath, and reply 'Yes, but what exactly do you want?' She herself, is a Christian. She tells me not to become an extremist (assumption upon seeing the beard I guess) she hates the use of religion as a tool to commit acts of violence. Conversation developed from there, and I was surprised at how much I agreed with her. She even went to the point of saying that ' when I am sick, I hope I am in your hands'. I like to think that's not the drink talking.
So what have I learnt? Not to be judgmental. Just because someone had a tipple, doesn't mean I should brand them or assume they are of decreased intellectual capability. I hope I can apply this to my future practise; where I don't judge smokers, drug takers, rabbit chasers (?) or any person by their habits or lifestyle.Anything else? People questioning your faith shouldn't immediately instigate some defensive approach. If you give their questions thought, be assured that Islam has the answer. Perhaps there is a confidence issue in our own faith which Muslims need to address that causes some to go on the counterattack. I pray that Allah (SWT), المتين (The Firm, The Steadfast) instills within Muslims firm faith. Ameen.
Saturday, 12 May 2007
Not another muslim medic rambling on...
I hope not anyway.
It is exam time in 3 weeks and i'm trying to get some abdominal anatomy notes sorted. This first post will have to be quick.
I started this blog because I have an ambition to become a doctor. A true doctor. A complete doctor. Not just one who treats physical ailments and leaves them be. Nor one who simply offers reassurance and comforts. But one who is able to recognise spiritual sicknesses of the heart and impart advice to cure these also. The one who is able to fulfil all these duties is a complete doctor.
In his book, Medicine of the Prophet, As- Suyuti goes into detail about the responsibilities of the doctor. It highlights how physical ailments may be cured by spiritual remedies and how a good doctor uses a variety of types of remedies for treating the sick.
Alas, I have to return to my studies. I humbly request you to make duaa for me on my journey.
It is exam time in 3 weeks and i'm trying to get some abdominal anatomy notes sorted. This first post will have to be quick.
I started this blog because I have an ambition to become a doctor. A true doctor. A complete doctor. Not just one who treats physical ailments and leaves them be. Nor one who simply offers reassurance and comforts. But one who is able to recognise spiritual sicknesses of the heart and impart advice to cure these also. The one who is able to fulfil all these duties is a complete doctor.
In his book, Medicine of the Prophet, As- Suyuti goes into detail about the responsibilities of the doctor. It highlights how physical ailments may be cured by spiritual remedies and how a good doctor uses a variety of types of remedies for treating the sick.
Alas, I have to return to my studies. I humbly request you to make duaa for me on my journey.
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