black dog begone

Bismillah

"You are better than you think you are"

While waiting for our Bad Day On-Call session today, the lecturer who was in charge for our Preparation for Practice (P4P) block came to me and ask how was yesterday's teaching. She said the lecturer who was assessing me said I was good and impressed with me. She told me she talked to the other lecturers who have taught to me too, and then she sums up their comment with the above quote.

I guess they were all aware of my problem. "Performance anxiety", as Dr Kevin coined it. The inferiority to other students. I often think that I'm not that good. On another note, I guess they have been discussing about each and everyone of us. We're a really small number, only 20 of us. We've come to know that they would flag up our picture and have lecturers commenting on us or something like that when we were 3rd years. Not sure if they are still doing that now, but it seems to be like it. I wonder if I should feel insecure, thinking that all the lecturers knew about my lack of self-confidence.

I feel quite hard to believe them, actually. Not just them, but also my friends.
There was this one time, I said to my groupmates that I feel I'm really lousy at teaching and she said, "Kau bagus gila kot!".
I wonder if it's just me, focusing on the bad side of me or what. I can't really see what she meant by that.

I guess it probably is. I've been wearing the black dog glasses in front of the mirror that I see myself with all the flaws in me. I need to take it off.
As my wife said it, we need to stop thinking that we're depressed. I need to embrace my strength and put it to good use.
I liked this video. Sums up of what I've felt myself. I still have the black dog, but I'm trying to tame it, and make it smaller. Some days it get big, some days it's really small.

stitch!

bismillah

I like stitches. I've got a few. From my mom's on my pants, right on the knees.
From my wife, on my shirt which was originally long-sleeved. I burnt it, so she cut the sleeves and sow it back nicely.

I like stitches, because it means hope. It means things can be fixed.
It means that I can keep what I like, I don't have to throw it away.

It means it can still be used, still be loved.
Still be cherished that the owner would bother stitching it back up.
Not discarded and easily replaced with something new.
Even when it won't look as good as new, that the stitches will somewhat deform it.
Leave an ugly mark on it.
But to the owner, it looks just great, even better than it was.
Even when others smirk at it, looking at it as something cheap and weathered.

I'm torn. I need to stitch myself back up.

p/s: now I guess it made sense. that's why they name him Stitch. to stitch up Lilo's family back together. it won't be as how it was, but he stitched it back up. I like Stitch.

sugar III

bismillah

well, this time it's not really about sugar, but pretty much similar issues.
mom had hyperthyroid, and she was on medication but I think quite recently she was just on propanolol, no longer carbimazole, which I assume her TFT must've went to normal.

quite recently she had an ECG checked and the doctor recommended her to take warfarin. from this alone I assume the ECG shows atrial fibrillation and she is at high risk of stroke. she couldn't take it all in, I guess. she got quite stressed about needing to avoid eating certain veggies (which she loved) and that she need to have her blood checked every now and then, and that she's at risk of bleeding. she refused the warfarin, simply saying to the doctor, "I still want to eat those veggies".

and earlier today, she told me how her besan who has diabetes and hypertension, stopped taking medications and started drinking water used to wash his hand after meal, along with du'a syifa'. I'm not questioning the du'a, but knowing the science behind it, I know diabetes and hypertension is a silent killer. I gave some more nagging about how diabetes affects the vessels, about gangrenous foot, about getting sepsis.

Like seriously, I've seen enough strokees and hideous gangrenous ulcerating diabetic foot that I don't want them to have it. Honestly, my heart breaks when I failed to convince her to take it. Perhaps, out of frustration I said to them, "tu la suruh orang jadi doktor, kan da kena bebel".

it is a challenge, since yeah, old age will make you feel like your end is near, so why bother when you want to enjoy your remaining time? but hey, will life be that enjoyable when you lament over limp arms and legs, or looking at the remaining stump on your leg?

O Allah, please take care of them as they have taken care of me when I was little. Please make me to be able to take care of them in their times of need. Please protect them from such ailments...

Ameen....

paradox

bismillah

A good friend of mine quoted what our lecturer said to him.
It's about the paradox of freedom of choice.
People think that they will be happy the freedom of choice,
but instead, the more choice people have, the more stressful it is.

Ever went to a restaurant where they served just too many kinds of food, you feel stressed just to choose which you should eat? Familiar experience right?
When we were growing up, you would eat just about anything your mum serve, and really, that was bliss, ain't it?

Stumbled upon a verse which says pretty much the same thing, though not directly related.

Allah has given an example: There is a man (enslaved and) owned by some partners having rivalry with each other, and (on the other hand,) there is a man solely owned by a single man. Can they be equal in comparison? ⁵Praise be to Allah! (The truth stands established). But, most of them do not know. 

Az-Zumar 39:29

Interesting thing about us is that, we are servants, but we get to choose (though not wholly) who our masters are. We just put ourselves under the control of too many things nowadays, that we get really stressed about it. We let ourselves being controlled by capitalism, materialism, expectations from others, and so many other ideologies. Why not choose just one to submit to, and really, won't that be bliss?
Ain't an easy job, really, cuz once your heart is attached to something, it's hard to believe in just one.
Harus usaha!

tz

bismillah

I was watching the video and a strong sense of longing came back.
But yeah, I should just put it pass me, cuz, well, I've had one before, and it's time for tarbiyah dzatiyyah.
I can't always be looking for the ideal naqib, I should try and be one myself, at least to my beloved wife.

to my beloved wife,
I just hope I'll be able to guide you to become a great madrasah for our future children.
insyaaAllah, may they too grow up to become even greater madrasah for the future generation.

some might say, the scripts are somewhat poyo, jalan cerita tah pape, too ideal and unreal or whatever.
the message is there. try and get the message.


mood: rindu rusuk kiri

shocker

Bismillah

Just finished usrah for today, and in the end, I was left with this feeling that, really, I am ungrateful towards the many blessings Allah has bestowed upon me.

I got an usrah to attend, when many others would dream one but never get the chance to have it.
It often customary, ritualistic kind of, to say at the beginning of a sitting, that we should be grateful to be able to attend such meeting, where the angels are spreading their wings over us and all, but only now I can feel how fortunate I am.
I used to complain, how my naqib should've been this way and that way, and yadda yadda, whereas me? What did I do?

I'm in a good university, studying something not everyone can pursue on, yet I'm still feeling ungrateful, feeling I should better off studying something else, something that suit me better. And it's a struggle to keep my motivation up. Well, how about this? Be grateful and use that to push yourself harder.

And really, I've got a great wife by my side (even though not physically at the moment), yet I haven't done much to improve myself as her husband...

Really, what have I been doing with my life?

As she would've said to me, suck it up!
Gotta pick myself up and get going.
It's funny when people are looking up at me, yet I'm looking down on myself.
People have hopes on me, I loose it from myself.
Suck it up, mate!

purposely took up the task for next week's usrah cuz I think I'd need it, without really thinking if I'd have time for it. but hey, you make the time for it, right?
my soul in serious need of a shock by a defib right now.

sugar II

bismillah

I guess Dad's gone tired of me.
Now it is often a battle, with my Mom on his side sometimes.
I often nag them both now for their indulgence in something for "just a little bit".
I think he's starting to have those cravings for sugar.

After dinner, lunch or breakfast, any given time, he'd ask if we wanted something to munch on.
Kerepek and biskut raya while watching TV, "we're just finishing what needs to be finished off".
Carbonated drinks, which known to many contains lotsa lotsa sugar.
The cempedak a good friend of his gave us, he couldn't wait for later even when we're already full with lunch. Told him to try just one and eat some more later. He gobbled up three instead.
Once I saw the familiar container in the sink after lunch, and so I asked,
"Makan tapai eh tadi?" with a grin.
His face was somewhat a cross between "I'm busted!" and "Don't treat me like a kid!"
Made lime and honey drink and I added two spoons of sugar (atop few table spoons of honey!) which to me is plenty.
He said to add three or four spoons more. I said no. The max I'll put in is two.
Which I did.

If I was Alpha I'd go "Aiyaiyai yayai~" while shaking my head...

.
..
...
....
.....

me, myself, am gaining weight...
I used to have a valley on my tummy.
Got ridges and all.
Slowly it goes on to become a flatland,
and bit by bit, especially since Raya came in,
mounds and mounds of fatty blubber started to pile up,
rising up to become a small hill.
just hope it'll stop becoming a mountain, and better yet, slowly goes back being a beautiful valley.

mencangkul gunung lama-lama jadi rata, insyaaAllah.
kena mula "mencangkul"!

central obesity raises the risk of getting diabetes.

Aiyaiya yayai~

a visit to my past

bismillah

today I've got the chance to visit my old college, and really, where and when it all began.
right when I lay my eyes on the familiar landscape, I started to feel somewhat at home.
how I miss that place.
and felt pretty great when those great people of my past can still remember me.
oh well, at least recognize my face, since I am quite a silent type.
I just often appear during functions and events, snapping away snapshots of the event, or tweaking the projector and speakers and stuffs, silent, most of the time.
I find me feeling amused with myself, that I happened to go and greet and had a brief chat with a teacher who didn't even teach me, and quite a sustainable one too.
but yeah, as you can expect, she did most of the talking.
some still had our class pictures, know our names, started talking about who's got married and stuff.
and I have to say, I'm quite ashamed that I failed to remember the name of quite a number.
well, as they always say, "Cikgu memang ingat student, student yang tak ingat cikgu..."

of all those teachers, there's this one particular teacher whom I'm eager to meet.
I guess I respected her the most. she was also the advisor of a club that I'm actively participated.
a club which was created for the purpose of da'wah, really.
she took care of us, really concerned about us, not just academically but also on some personal level, the sort of relationship you don't get to have when in university.
she even took me to the club's meeting, just so that I can see how they are, and probably to let me share something. and I did. just a few snippets from my mind that I think they should know, which turned out to be a bit like a tazkirah. (saw a girl somewhat drowsy as I started talking... T___T).
can't help but think, how I've changed since then.
I wouldn't have the courage to talk to them if it was years back.

then as we went to the masjid for zuhr prayer, I can't help but smile, reminiscing the old times.
the white screen and projector of which our batch has collected money to donate to the masjid.
the verandah where the tabligh team would usually have their meetings, the other side of the masjid where our "rival" would have their usrah, the back verandah where we would just sit back and recite ma'thurat after 'asr prayer and tazkirah by anyone who would want to volunteer, while some of us would rest our head on a friend's lap, or listening to Ustaz Zahazan's tafseer on IKIM at 6.30am after fajr.

and there it is, that particular spot where we would usually have our usrah, on lazy Friday afternoons...
that particular time when things sort of start to slow down as everybody take that chance to indulge into a deep slumber, welcoming the weekend.
it was often a battle, trying to reason myself to leave my bed to go to usrah. oh well, sometimes I'm the one going from room to room of my usrahmates', to wake them up, but most of the time for the sole reason that I won't go there alone, fearing the awkward moment that was often present if I were to be left alone with my naqib. he's quite the silent type himself, so silent meets silent equals to cricket sounds louder than us.

sometimes I do wonder if he purposely chose that particular time, as a tarbiyah for us to learn to choose between the should or the want. if he did, alhamdulillah, he succeeded in that. choose iman over nafs. alhamdulillah, thummal hamdulillah for the chance for me to get tarbiyah.

well, 4 years has passed since I've left the college, and so it seems I haven't advanced much from where I left off. but nonetheless, I've learnt a lot when I was abroad, which shaped me into who I am today. alhamdulillah for His Plannings. He is indeed the Best of Planner.

alhamdulillah for that trip. I kinda needed it.
rejuvenated my spirit in some way, alhamdulillah.
one more year left for me to leave a mark in my current university.
one more year left to build a foundation in me, so that I'll be steadfast in this deen and da'wah.
insyaaAllah.
I need to make the best of it.
insyaaAllah.

Introspecting me

Ear candy : Good time-Owl City

I’m just going to record this for the sake of memory. I’ve developed a routine now that I’m starting to get used to living in this house. I’ve timed how long it took me to get to class from this house and it took me 15 minutes plus minus a minute. I usually walk when I don’t ask for a lift from Kak W.

When it was time for me to walk on my own, I thought the journey home was gonna suck because it seemed so far but funny thing is, I seem to enjoy the walk. Perhaps the loneliness of missing my husband badly turned what was supposed to be something difficult into something enjoyable. It became like a walk in the park, and well literally I WAS walking though not in the park. I’m starting to lose my train of thought so let me just get back to where I left off.

Even living in this house feels as natural as drinking water. The minute I get home I’ll usually get things settled, usually my personal chores and took my afternoon shower. Then I’ll start on my revision or studying and I find the solitude in this room of 4 people calming. Perhaps I’m combating the loneliness that I felt by keeping myself occupied and this is good I think. At least it’s getting me to study.

The only time that I dread is when I had to go out of the room because that’s when I will have to face the other 6 or less people living in this house. I don’t really hate meeting people, really. I’m usually quick at welcoming new relationships but then I guess this is where my anxiety comes in.

All my life, I did everything I could to avoid making mistakes and usually I will blame myself when something goes wrong, even when it was not really a big deal.

I make a big deal of my mistakes and I am really glad that Allah lead me to dentistry because I get to learn this wonderful subject they call ‘Behavioural Science’.

As I was given the lectures on Behavioural Science, I find myself more understanding of myself, why I behaved such and such, and why I reacted so violently towards myself. With understanding of my behaviour, I find myself becoming more compassionate and crying is no longer thought as a stupid thing to do.

I’m glad, really.

Alhamdulillah He finally answered my question that I have been asking myself for so long since I enter Dentistry because to be honest, Dentistry is not exactly what I have in mind for a career. Well, that goes for everything else. I’m really clueless, I know, but I’m past that now.

I now know what I want to do and this time I am really going to enjoy learning throughout the course.

This is my first post

Ear candy : What I’ve Done-Linkin Park

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.

This is my first appearance here. Anyways, it has been a few days since I moved in this house of 11 people. It’s a bungalow and I’m sharing the master bedroom with 3 other ladies. The environment is different, and it kind of reminds me of the feeling that I had when I was renting back in Seri Iskandar, Perak. It’s really cool anyways. It has been just a few days and I tried to smile at those who wouldn’t even make eye contact with me and even when they didn’t smile back I didn’t really take it to heart. Yup, I don’t. In that sense, I have a feeling that I have changed slightly. At least I am further from my old self now. Baby steps. I’m getting there. Not immediately, but definitely. InshaAllah.

You know, talking about change, I am kind of desperate for it. When I resumed reading Purification Of The Heart, by Hamza Yusuf, although I’ve finished reading the introduction and I’m supposed to go on to the next page, I can’t. I feel the need to start over again. It kind of feels like I want to absorb everything written in the book, in hope that it will change me, that it will somehow switch the ON button of my obstinate heart.

It started during our first anniversary dinner. Me and husband were waiting for our orders and while waiting, we did a post-mortem of our marriage. Discussing our lacking and things that we need to improve, I found that there’s a lot, especially when it comes to me, and it almost overwhelmed me had I not calm down by the sight of food appearing on our table.

There’s so much to change and thus began my journey here to join my husband in pursuit of piety. Ameen Ya Rabb. 

carcinogenic

bismillah

"If we're not able to be alone, we'll only able to know how to be lonely."

the quote I quoted in my presentation.
an ailment less acknowledged, but suffered by too many, without them knowing.
perhaps it's like cancer, it eats you up from within, very sinister in its action.

or perhaps you can think of it like this. 
each individual is a cell, which makes up a body, the community. 
and that cancer is affecting each individual, thus, crumbling that body, slowly, as each cell disintegrates from the bigger group. 

some cells are more resistant, some are more vulnerable. 
and there's a need for a response team to response to such insult. 
there's a need to recognize the antigen, thus rendering the response team into action. 
when there's a failure to recognize, then there's a failure to cope, to prevent further damage. 
when being able to recognize, thus the next step would be to have the appropriate amount of energy in the response team. 

the society is disintegrating, weakening social, physical strength of it. 
we are losing so many values that were taught by the generations before us,
being good to neighbours, care for one another, people got into accident and the first thing you do is to lend a helping hand, not taking a snapshot and post it on Instagram or the likes of it. 
making a conversation seemed like an awkward thing to do, and I tell you, I'm like that myself. 
you saw something done incorrectly, the right thing to do would be to correct it,
but no, hey somebody else can do it, let me just tweet it or post it on Facebook, hoping that it'll somehow reach that person, even when that person is not in the friends list. 
why take a detour, when you can give an effect right away, when he's right in front of you instead of taking the long way through different routes which has no guarantee whatsoever that it'll reach that person? 

it's not about terminating technology. 
it's about giving the appropriate response. 
using it, instead of being used. 

as we reproduce, creating new "cells" each day, 
now these "cells" are even more vulnerable and needs extra protection. 

heal ourselves, so that we won't pass the faulty genes to our offspring, insyaaAllah. 

the sms

Written on June 17 2013.
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu.

I received an SMS today, one which I anxiously waited for but I didn't really put high hopes on. Talked to my mummy-in-law regarding me never had any contact Daddy after months of marriage and how I feel bad about it and so she said perhaps I should give him a call when I'm in Sabah.

So here I am in KK, and yesterday was Father's Day. I decided to text him yesterday but was talking to my wife after a long trip north to The Tip of Borneo (which was really spectacular) and end up sleeping from the exhaustion and I fell asleep.

Realized the unfinished business this morning and so I texted him before going to the hospital, and anxiously waited for a reply but it didn't come. Went to hospital as usual and totally forgotten about it. It was around 5pm that his reply came.

“TQ. Daddy dan family semua sihat”. 

Alhamdulillah. He doesn't seem to be mad or anything. So I guess the next step would be to call him. I really hope things will work out between us, and between him and my wife.
Rabbi yaseer, wa la tu'aseer...

***
Aug 20th 2013, 4.39AM

Alhamdulillah, things went pretty well.
We came to pick them up at LCCT, and all that I can comment is, it's weirdly OK, as if nothing ever happened in the past. And one of the first few things we talked about when they've settled down in the hotel is regarding his wishes to organize a reception for us back in Mukah, and he's the one initiating the topic.
Even Mummy was surprised when he mentioned it to my parents during his first meeting with them. (He didn't tell Mummy about the plan...)

Alhamdulillah, thummal hamdulillah.

suicide note

Written on June 19 2013
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu

Yesterday I did my first CPR on a real person, pretty late for some people, I guess. It was a rather sad case, though. A male in his 20s, commited suicide by hanging himself. We couldn't save him. The HO said usually if it's more than 5 cycle, the chances are very slim, but as for formality, the CPR need to go on for 7 cycles or up till 30 mins, which me and my friend had to go through (but that was like easy for them)...
I am not really fit to be honest. *sigh*

When the nurse told us to stop, it was quite a relief for us. Tiring really. Then I took a moment to look at the lifeless body. Looked at the strangulation mark around his neck. Looked at his half open eyes, and I wonder, what is it that made him do that. Is it worth it?
Did his misery end, though? What now? In the hereafter, I don't think I have to say anything more
about it.

Few minutes after we stopped the CPR, a lady came in crying with two other guys, his family I assume. One thing suiciders don't really think about are the miseries of those around them, after they ended their worldly miseries. What matters is they've ended theirs. No one else matters. Families and friends.

Families, especially. Just imagine what his parents and siblings would feel. Is it their fault? Could they have done something to stop it? Why didn't they see it coming? They will be scarred for life, haunted by the shroud of mystery surrounding his death, and guilt.

What if they have children? Mummy where's Daddy? Why did Daddy do it? Daddy don't love us anymore? Why do my friends all say my dad is in hell? Why are they saying nasty things about Daddy, Mummy?

Totally emotionally traumatic for the children, and how do you suppose the mummy would feel, trying to answer those questions?

The end of your misery is the beginning, or perhaps the prolongation of others' suffering. What a way to end your life with.

Idiot

Written on June 17 2013
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu

Watching 3 Idiots, and now seeing my best friend quit his job to take on a job that he think he will enjoy rather than his old job made me rethink about my own life, my own journey. I used to dream of becoming National Geographic's photographer or cameraman and go on field trips around the world. Even now whenever I turn on the TV, the channels I would go for would be cooking channels, or documentaries like
NatGeo or Discovery Channel or the likes of it. When I do watch it, I still have that desire to be there, doing what they are doing.

I used to dream about being a writer. I used to write pretty well, as my friends told me. But now I can't seem to write anything good or inspiring. I don't know why. Perhaps it's that dark past of mine... Or maybe not..
And now I'm a medical student, and a pretty lousy one at it. And oh, a married one.

It seems now that I'm not good with anything I do. I can't write. My photography skills are quite OK I guess but ain't much to it. I'm not a good medical student, forgetting almost everything I've learnt (OK, this is an exaggeration). I'm a husband with no income and we both are currently facing some financial difficulties.

The only two things that I think I can focus and try to be good at is to try and be a good son to my parents and family, and to be a good husband. Sometimes it's a juggle. Tried my best in terms of knowledge and tarbiyah but I think I don't have enough yet. My own tarbiyah seems a bit wavy, somewhat forgotten, or perhaps they wanted to focus on a more energetic and spirited junior. Unlike me, been a long time under tarbiyah but still like this, and really, I think I'm deteriorating. Struggling to even be a good Muslim, let alone a da'ie.

I seem to have lost myself a long time ago. Zarith Shafie is gone with the sands of time.
Just hope that at least, I can make a difference in my parents' life, and to my wife's life. That I mattered. That I get to leave a mark on their life, a good one.

***
Aug 20th 2013, 4.32AM

Just ranting, really. I shouldn't really feel that way. I should do the best in whatever I do, medical students, daie. being a son and husband. That's how Muslims should be. So yeah, just ranting back then...

alcoholism

Written on July 1st 2013, 4.40am
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu

Having my Vico after coming back from ETD.
Decided to join in the night shift at 12.30am and went back at 4 since the busy night seemed to have settled down. Seeing that case and a few others throughout my A&E elective posting, I just can't help feeling annoyed with alcoholism. I know that there are some benefits to it but seeing those cases is enough to make me see the weight of the harm it causes to the society. Drunkards getting withdrawal symptoms, MVA cases due to being under alcohol influence. And tonight's case has a Muslim name to him. A binge drinker, according to the notes.

I can only feel disgusted when it comes to alcohol. The smell itself is pretty yucky, I can't imagine how people can let it slide through their tongue and throat. Looking at them all drowsy and mumbling to themselves, trying to get off the bed 2 to go to some fantasy land when all the HOs and MOs are busy treating other patients only to fumble and slip. I helped him up, with utter annoyance and disgust. I don't hate him. I hate the deed itself.

Had a short, inconclusive discussion with my peers regarding the issue of whether a Muslim nation with kafeer zimmi in it should ban alcohol completely or not. I still believe in what I said. Islam is sent to all mankind, so Islam is offering not only protection to the 'aql (mind, intellect) of Muslims, but it is for all, regardless of their religion, because truly it is affecting everyone inclusively and not selectively, to the drinker directly and to those around them and the society as a whole.

p/s: a "she-male" was wheeled-in looking drowsy. All the
nurses were like "Go for the orange branula!" He was being
laughed at, and the nurses said we can experiment on him with
the branula as many times as we want. To that, I have no
comment. Huhu.. He did look a lot like a girl, though. The make
up, long hair, no hair on his legs, the attire. But the chest is
totally flat, of course.

sesak

Bismillah

Aku perlu nafas baru. 

Sesak bernafas dalam jiwa macam ni. 

Komplen dan komplen, tapi mana amal ku? 

Astaghfirullah....

hakeem

Bismillah ar Rahman ar Raheem

Teringat satu babak dalam drama Islam KTP, sebuah drama Islamik dari Indonesia.
Alkisah seorang bapa yang ada anak yang sedikit bermasalah, lalu pergi mengadu dengan Bang Ali.

Bapak: Sudah bermacam cara aku guna, cara lembut, cara kasar, semua tak menjadi.
Bang Ali: Kau sudah cuba cara berhikmah?
Bapak: ???

Asalnya aku sendiri tak faham, tapi alhamdulillah selepas mengharungi rumah tangga selama setahun dan melihat macam-macam keluarga terdekat dan jauh, I think I get the gist of it. Sebelum ni, aku selalu fikir cara lembut adalah paling berhimah.
Cara lembut, baik itu tak semestinya berhikmah, cara kasar itu juga tak semestinya tak berhikmah. In fact, boleh jadi tak buat apa-apa pun adalah satu tindakan berhikmah.

Berhikmah itu bila mendatangkan kesan pada hati.
Dan harus juga faham, kita berusaha, tapi hasilnya, Allah yang tentukan. Yang penting, kita usaha carikan, apa tindakan yang terbaik. Hikmah itu boleh datang kemudian, boleh datang serta merta. Kita usahakan saja.

Membuatkan aku teringat kata-kata seorang brother Arab masa menuntut di UK dulu.
Dia komen tentang nama aku, dan antara yang disebut adalah, sebelum seseorang tu mencapai tahap Hikmah/Hakeem, dia perlu dulu ada Haleem.
Haleem itu sabar, Haleem itu lembut, Haleem itu sopan. Haleem itu menyalurkan emosi at the right place and at the right time, for the right situation. 

Hilm is an intelligence that, in our terms, allows someone to control their anger, even if their anger is justified. It allows you to, when you are justifiably angry, control it and not manifest it.

-wiki-

(okay wiki isn't really a reliable source to quote but yeah, I believe this is correct) 

Hakeem/Hikmah padaku perlu ada trial and error. Cuba buat, tengok betul ke salah, bersabar, dan betulkan dan betulkan dan betulkan, dan sabar dan sabar dan sabar. Maka di sini perlunya hadir Haleem. Boleh jadi terus betul dalam cubaan pertama, tapi tidak mungkin akan terus betul pada setiap percubaan. Dan mungkin, lagi banyak kita silap, lebih berhikmah kita, sebab kita dah cuba banyak possible wrong ways, maka mengecilkan ruang untuk berjumpa solusi yang lebih tepat, mungkin dalam situasi yang berbeza tapi similar.

Kerana Hakeem itu bijaksana. Hakeem itu bukan accidental. Hakeem itu perlukan pemikiran dan pertimbangan. Hakeem itu bukan ikut nasib. Hakeem itu bila well-informed, bila berpengalaman.

Aku masih banyak berbuat silap, masih terlalu jauh dari berhikmah, tapi nonetheless, alhamdulillah thummal hamdulillah, dikurniakan isteri yang cukup penyabar dengan silapku.

Risau bila kerap kali nampak dalam berita, kes-kes dera anak, pukul isteri teruk-teruk. Kalau tak ada Haleem, apakah akan ada Hakeem? Kalau tak ada Hakeem, ke mana hala tuju rumahtangga dan anak-anak?

C&A

I stood in awe, gaping at the titles.
"The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog"
It caught my eye and then looking at all the other titles left me hoping I had lotsa money so I can read all of them.
I guess I can safely say now, that I wanted to be a Childhood and Adolescent Psychiatrist.
I often look at kids and really, just wonder what's in their mind, what's their parents are like, why they are behaving like so etc etc.

Reminiscing the past, when I was in Form 5, I thought about becoming a psychologist (as well as other dreams, writer, photographer etc). I wanted to know what makes people think what, behaviors and all those things. I like to observe, simply looking at people. I wanted to know more about them.
Oh well, sometimes I dreamed of being able to read minds.

But now as I'm in the medical field from God's planning, the closest that I can get to that is to being a psychiatrist. I can remember, the first few attempts at clerking and presenting a history during Mental Health Rotation, my lecturer said I did it more like a psychologist rather than you know, the proper medical psychiatrist would do.

I know for some people, psychiatry ain't really medical, but hey, I don't care. People often smirks at psychiatrists, but I do believe doctors are supposed to help people, even mentally. It doesn't put psychiatrist short from any other specialties.

One more year till I graduate, be it I didn't flunk anything. Ameen, insyaaAllah.

sugar

Bismillah ar Rahman ar Raheem

as a future doctor, I am often expected to be able to take care of the family medically, and the expectations kinda get at me sometimes.
every now and then when I'm at home, my usual role is to check my parents' BP and glucose level (we got a glucose monitoring kit at home).

just now my dad's glucose reading was really high. the highest so far. and really, he was quite alarmed, and asked me what level of glucose that he would need to take insulin. well, it's not about the level, it's about the control. if with oral antihyperglycaemic agent, the sugar is still constantly high, then insulin is the next step.

i know it must be tiring and annoying for him when I reprimand him about his sugar intake every now and then. being in an army, plus being genetically XY, you can't help but feel your ego being tarnished when you take orders from your underlings, and I kinda understand how it feels, and I feel bad about it but I just had to, because I love him.

right now, a pretty nice timing I must say, TV Al Hijrah is airing a medical related show about diabetes, and he's watching it. I can feel he is very worried about it. especially about the fact that he could go on insulin. the idea of needing a jab everyday is really unpleasant, and I have to say, it is one of the most common thing doctors say to scare patients to control their sugar intake, and for a good reason, really. another really worrying thing DM patients would dread to hear is about having to take dialysis. and true enough, I find it very sad when I see people needing dialysis, 3-4 times a week. it costs a lot, and it just drains your energy. it literally sucks your blood out of your system.

well, having nagged him about sugar intake, I should do so myself. I guess it's the stress, so I tend to crave for sugars myself, honestly. and really, I'm not good with disciplining myself. I got risk factors too. I'm gaining weight, and particularly my abdo is getting flabbier (central obesity is more worrying), and I got family history of it too, so yeah.. I ought to be very worried now. haihhh.. I should listen to myself talking about sugars.
Allah totally detest those believers who happen to say things, but they themselves don't walk the talk. that applies to me, now. *sigh*

I need to exercise!

imam

Bismillah ar Rahman ar Raheem

Me: Tadi dorang ramai-ramai pergi makan kat luar. Tetiba sorang ni datang sebelum dorang gerak, pesan "Ko tak gi makan kan? Nanti Isya' turun surau eh? Jadi imam untuk budak-budak perempuan."

Wifey: Amboiii~ jadi imam solat je tau, bukan imam hidup dorang!

Me: ^__~