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Month: December 2019

Biomed: Recap Medicine

Biomed: Recap

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February 2017

“Remember to call us, okay? And remember to eat eggs. Eggs
are good for you.”

My mother studies my face hard and I smile back at her. A few weeks ago, I made the decision to accept my Bachelor of Biomedicine offer from Melbourne University. Since I grew up in Perth, this decision meant moving out to a city I’d never been to before, away from my family and the shelter I’d grown up in for 18 years. In my smile, I try to hide my nervousness for the uncertain road ahead, but I suspect mum sees past it.

“Of course, mum – I’ll see you in a few months. I love you.”

After a long hug, I wave my mother off as she departs back to Perth, leaving me behind in Melbourne for me to begin a new chapter: University.

Present

That day marked the beginning of my Undergraduate journey, which quickly swept me off my feet. Juggling Biomed’s study load, adulthood, a reasonable social life and extra-curriculars was both exhilarating and exhausting, never seeming to stop. Having recently graduated, marking an official end to this whirlwind (until the next degree), it feels strange to draw the curtains on this chapter. As for all good things, I find it helpful to reflect briefly on the time that has passed, so here we go.

Like a long-winded anime, various ‘arcs’ were played out throughout the 3 years of my degree. These included the chaotic GAMSAT and medicine interview preparation arcs as well as the more structured semester arcs (upper limb anatomy, you still haunt my nightmares). Amazingly, I’ve realised that throughout every single arc, I’ve had the opportunity to meet brilliant and caring individuals who I somehow now have the privilege to call my friends. To the friends whose paths have aligned with mine and have shaped this chapter of Biomed, thank you. Whether you were with me in Immunology cram sessions, 400m repeats on the track, practicing GAMSAT essays or there in the background as a friendly face, you have added some magic to the great and terrible days and I am grateful for you all.

No doubt, Biomed brought along its fair share of challenges which forced me to adapt. These adaptations include appreciating the importance of sleep, listening to lectures at 2x speed and training my taste buds to tolerate my shockingly bland cooking. Writing also became an interesting adaptation for me and rapidly became an antidote to my more pronounced introversion. Though I haven’t really found a writing style, I’ve had fun jotting down random thoughts and experimenting with how to write them.

Biomed was also a harsh teacher and brought on challenges which I drastically failed, exposing my flaws in broad daylight. It is somewhat of a sad paradox that despite having graduated from supposedly one of the most competitive courses in Australia, I feel like I know even less than when I came in. Perhaps this illustrates a recognition of my profound arrogance coming out of high school, but there is no doubt in my mind about it now: this world we inhabit and these bodies we possess are amazing and I know so incredibly little about it all. As this chapter of Biomed draws to a close, I am excited to explore whole new worlds as the next chapter in Medicine slowly draws open its curtains.

As 2020 brings on new challenges and friendships for everyone, here’s to many more magical times filled with awe, wonder and laughter.

To Those I Tried to Evangelise Faith

To Those I Tried to Evangelise

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Evangelise.

The act of pushing one’s religion on another person – what a dirty sounding word. It’s a word that says, “Hey, did you know that you’ve got it all wrong? Your worldview is wrong. Your beliefs are wrong. Everything you know is wrong… and guess what? I’ve got it all right.”

For a while, this is how I thought of evangelism. A debate, a battle – no, a war between someone else’s heart and the truth I believed in. When I lost these wars, I felt frustrated. What did I do wrong? Was I too blunt? Too subtle? Too arrogant? For a long time, I prayed. I prayed for wisdom, to understand how to evangelise better.

And then one day, I realised: perhaps there is a better way to evangelise – one that doesn’t require words, because what you need aren’t arguments for a creator. Reasoning and unanswered questions, though perhaps important, aren’t the main forces holding you back.

No, instead of a confrontational opponent, you need a friend who will listen to you. You need someone who will support you through the hard times and who will rejoice with you throughout your successes. You need someone who cares for you – who genuinely cares for you, and who will love you in times other people will not.   

So, I need to rethink evangelism. I need to realise that my words won’t win you over. In fact, I need to accept that until you deny yourself and turn to God, you may not see my faith as anything but foolishness (1 Corinthians 1:18). I pray this time will come soon, friends. But in the meantime, I’ll try using my life, instead of my words, to be a testimony to you.

You can watch how I speak. I hope you will see someone who carefully uses his words to encourage and build people up according to their needs (Ephesians 4:29).

You can watch how I listen. I hope you will see someone who is quick to listen without judgement and who is slow to become angry (James 1:19-20).

You can watch how I work. I hope you will see someone who tirelessly works to do a job well, even in a place where we aren’t treated the way we should be (Colossians 3:23).

But most importantly, you can watch how I fail. Oh friends, you will see me fail in the most terrible and spectacular ways. But throughout these moments, I pray you’ll see where I turn. I hope you’ll see someone who is quick to acknowledge where they fall short and who turns to God to help them become someone better. And I hope when you see me in my better moments, you’ll see that everything good I have comes not from me, but from grace from the perfect God I serve.

Now friends, as I continue to evangelise, I won’t shower you with arguments or Bible verses to convince you of anything. Instead, I’ll try to live in a way that shows you why I live the way I do. Why I believe in a God who is loving and powerful in unimaginable ways. Why I believe there is a reason for the suffering and evil in the world. Why I believe life is beautiful, and so are you. And I pray that God will work in all of you, so that when you see my broken yet miraculous life, you might question my actions and begin exploring some of these incredulous ideas yourself.

The piece above was inspired by an article I read here, which had a tremendous impact on me. After writing this, I was reminded of a verse which I thought fit in quite nicely with the overall theme.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)

Monologue of an Introvert Musings

Monologue of an Introvert

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I’m fading.

As I look back at my friend sitting across me, I’ve realised I’ve comprehended nothing of the last 2 minutes of our conversation. My mind, which is usually fairly awake, is fading quickly from 100% and going into shutdown mode, gradually blocking off the stimulus at the 21st birthday party I am at. Right now, I’m guessing I’ve faded around 50% and can feel my mind retreating into its cave. Much more of this and I’ll be close to complete mental shutdown, which is not a pretty sight. A voice in my head speaks very clearly to me.

Get out of here.

I quickly scan my surroundings for a getaway. I see a room full of people, finger food, photographers and lights and hear an overwhelming bundle of noises. I find the door that I entered from, the portal which leads to a quieter, less stimulating place. I turn my focus back to the conversation in front of me, my mind now closer to 60% faded. I immediately feel a pang of guilt – it’s unfair to talk to someone who’d rather leave the room than listen to what you have to say.

“I’m sorry.” I interrupt, excusing myself to the toilet.

“Oh, don’t be.” He laughs. “You gotta go when you gotta go.”

Not about the toilet – you deserve someone who will give
you the attention you deserve. I’m sorry I couldn’t provide it.

As I leave the room, I hear my mind breath a sigh of relief. Finally – some quiet. I find the toilet and stare mind-numbingly at a wall. “Wouldn’t it be great if the Earth just swallowed us up right now?” I wonder.

Yes. I think so too.

But of course, I don’t control the Earth and I have a 21st
to get back to. I begin the tug-of-war with my mind, cooing it to come out of
its cave. “Come on, buddy.” I beg. “Be alive for just a little longer.”

Go away.

I sigh, and begin the familiar protocol to catalyse my mind’s recovery. Knowing my mind likes to be around nature, I walk out of the building, down the stairs into a cool, starry night and find some trees to pace amongst. Hearing my footsteps amongst the pebbles and feeling the cool breeze against my skin does something to stir my mind out of hibernation. The next step is to find somewhere with as little stimulus as possible. I move to somewhere quieter, with fewer street lights, and sit against a tree. Silence. Perfect. Next, I reflect on my day and any interesting conversations I’ve had. My mind traditionally enjoys this game and tonight is no exception: I can feel it emerging from its cave now. The last step, and usually the most effective, is to write: there is something magical about putting pen to paper that makes my mind dance. While I don’t have any paper, I take my phone out and begin jotting some notes down. This acts like coffee for my mind, and I feel myself coming back.

After a while, I walk back up the stairs to the party and check my watch. I was gone for around 10 minutes.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I ask myself. After a moment, I hear the reluctant reply.

Okay. Let’s go.

I take a deep breath and step back into the room, flinching at the avalanche of stimulus, hoping it won’t be too long until I’ll have to leave it again.