Challenges of Medicine

Challenges of Medicine

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“What challenges do you see yourself facing as a doctor?”

I’m sitting in a suit, facing a young Asian woman wearing black, round glasses across a desk. On the desk in front of her is an iPad, and she sits cross-legged, hands resting on her legs. I’m in my interview for medical school, and the woman across me, who introduced herself as Angela, is awaiting my response.

I pause and mentally check my body posture. Am I sitting straight? Am I smiling? Are my arms relaxed? I quickly remind myself of the script I’d practiced over and over again, and begin.

“Well, that’s a hard question. While medicine is incredibly rewarding, there are so many challenging facets to it. I’ll give two challenges which apply the most to me. Firstly: The work-life balance.”

I’m on a tight time limit: 5 minutes to answer 4 questions until the bell rings and I’m thrown into the next room, to another station. I quickly explain the foreseeable challenges of balancing large time commitments to patients and learning whilst having a normal social life. Angela looks bored. She’s no doubt heard this dialogue before.

“Another challenge which I see myself facing as a doctor is the emotional aspect of medicine.”

Angela raises an eyebrow, inviting me to explain what I mean.

“I imagine there will be times where I will come across patients in such a critical condition that I’m unable to help them, no matter how hard I try. In times like these, I worry that this inability to help will put an emotional toll on me, affecting my ability to work.”

A voice silently cries out at me as I talk.

Don’t lie Eric. What you fear isn’t caring too much, it’s caring too little. It’s the fear that one day, you’ll no longer see patients as people with lives and problems as complex as your own, but as obstacles waiting to be diagnosed – obstacles that can be dealt with by prescribing little pills. It’s the fear that you’ll no longer care and listen to patients who are scared and confused, but instead face their questions with apathy and frustration. It’s the fear that one day, your desire to help others will be quenched, replaced by an emotionless, robotic void that lacks empathy and seeks only to get patients in and out as fast as possible, forgetting that they too, are human, and require human connection as well as pharmacological treatment. No, the greatest challenge is to be able to help others regain their humanity, without the cost of your own.

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

Angela looks up at me two questions later, seeming pleased with my responses. I’d finished early.

Yes. Say it. The voice inside me begs. But I can’t. “No.” I say after some consideration, smiling at her. She smiles back. The bell rings a few seconds later. I thank her, open the door and leave, move to the next room and quiet down my inner voice.

October 2019: Check-in

October 2019: Check-in

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A word comes to mind as I reflect on the last few months: Zenosyne. It’s defined as:

n. the sense that time appears to be moving faster and faster – especially as one grows older – speeding towards the inevitable conclusion that will arrive unexpectantly soon.

Currently, it’s the week of SWOTVAC for my final semester of exams, which means I’m unofficially done with my undergraduate studies. This comes with mixed feelings – relief that it’s over, gratitude to have met great people, regret about not having done more, uncertainty about the future – but perhaps the biggest feeling is zenosyne: that each day seems to last one second less, that time is relentlessly accelerating, forcing me to adapt or be left behind. The first day of undergrad feels recent, second year feels like a familiar friend and the start of this semester feels like yesterday… but now it’s over. This is both an unsettling and exciting call to action.

It’s now been 3 months since my last check-in post. This is my third iteration of this process and I’ve found it to be useful every time so I think I’ll continue doing these. And so, here we go again: What went well these last few months? What didn’t go so well? And what are my goals heading into the months to come?

The good

1. Running

Running-wise, the main focus of the last few months was the Melbourne Marathon (Oct 13th), which is the first marathon I’ve ever done. Training for this was a crazy experience: running 60km+ a week, doing 30km long runs, foam rolling daily and maintenance work in the gym were all foreign concepts to me until a few months ago. Despite this, the process taught me a lot and the actual marathon was perhaps the funnest challenge I’ve ever done. In training, I was able to get a lot closer with my fellow MUAC athletes, appreciate the importance of rest and recovery and feel my body adapt as I pushed it to run longer distances every week. While I’m satisfied with my time (3:20:59, 4:43min/km), I’ve definitely been bitten by the marathon bug and hope to complete more in the years to come.

2. Reminders

To be honest, the last few months were far from ideal. While I’ve recently developed good habits of reading the Bible and socialising, other habits which I’d built over the last few years such as reading books in general and journalling have begun to fade away. I suspect this contributed to me feeling a little lost over September, eventually leading to burnout. Thankfully, I was able to learn from this hollow period, which taught me the importance of strong relationships, consistency and prioritising activities that are fundamental to my wellbeing. Provided I remember these lessons, I’ll take this period overall as a win.

The not-so-good

1. Phone use

It irks me to admit this, but I’ve been spending an excessive amount of time on my phone in the last few months. I often find myself reaching for it when I’m bored instead of doing something more productive like reading, chatting to a friend or just being still. Most of the time spent on the phone isn’t even productive – it largely consists of mindlessly scrolling through social media or watching gaming videos and usually occurs when I’m procrastinating for something. Perhaps just getting started on tasks that need to be done is the real issue here.

2. Reading

For the first half of this year, I was reading about a book a week. And it was amazing. But for some reason, the practice began to wane and I’ve only managed 3 books in the last 2 months. It’s not like I have nothing to read – there’s currently 10 books and 2 audiobooks on my to-read list – but somehow, it’s lost its place as a priority. I think writing this is a good reminder to put reading back on the radar. After all, there is something magical about sitting alone under a lamp, book spread before you, and communing with someone whom you have never met.

Goals

So, in light of a fairly dull last few months, what are my goals for the future?

  • Make things that need to be done as simple as possible
  • Rebuild reading and journalling into my habits, and not let any successes get to my head
  • Post at least 3 times a month here

I’m also flirting with the idea of setting up a YouTube channel, where I interview strangers on the street and ask about random topics such as joy, health, family or goals. I’ve found doing walk-ups in Christian Union and my church to be an incredible (albeit intimidating) opportunity to gain new perspectives on all sorts of things, and I think a channel like this would force me to continue this practice.

The Dangers of Success

The Dangers of Success

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A few months ago, I was listening to a podcast episode whilst preparing dinner. The host, Tom, was talking to Irwin Winkler, a well-renowned film producer and director. Though the whole conversation was interesting, one dialogue caught me off guard when Tom asked,

“What has 50 years in the business taught you about life?”

Irwin’s response (edited for clarity):

“That you can have great successes, you can have terrible failures, and both are really the same. You can never let the successes make you think that you’re better than anybody else and the same thing about your failures. You shouldn’t think that your failures make you any less of a person than the next. You are who you are. You have to pursue your goals the way you have always pursued them, through success and failures, and if you keep trying, you are going to have some failures. You’re also going to have some successes. When you give up, you’re going to have neither. And that itself is failure.”

Irwin’s idea of the dangers of success was fascinating to me: that praise or success might lead to something akin to arrogance, which may actually cause one to stumble and stop doing the things which brought them success in the first place. For instance, a sprinter who has just won a big race may begin to internalise, “Wow, look at me! I’m so fast – nobody can match me.” After this, that champion sprinter might skip workouts, throw out their diet and stay up late, disrupting their sleeping routine. If so, I would be surprised if this athlete could perform at the same level in the next race. Success, when left unchecked, has the potential to become a negative feedback loop.

Perhaps that example may have been a bit extreme, but I’ve personally been guilty of this in my studies recently, whereby my laziness and reliance on ‘intellect’ to cram and learn things quickly has gotten me into trouble this semester. What I really should’ve done was to remember how I previously studied – with slow deliberation and spaced repetition – and to build on these principles.

This idea of being wary of praise and success is applicable to many different areas. In my faith, it means not to be complacent about being saved by grace. In my running, it means not to stop training after a big PB. In my relationships, it means not to stop investing effort into them when things feel smooth. That in all things, when I succeed or someone compliments me, to not let it get to my head.

3 Lessons from 21 Years

3 Lessons from 21 Years

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One of my more useful rituals is to use my birthday to reflect on my life’s journey so far and see what I’ve learnt, overcome or struggled with. Since I just turned 21 just over a week ago, I’ll use this as an excuse to remind myself of 3 big takeaways from the last 21 years.

1) Relationships matter

This is probably the biggest lesson, and is one which I’ve only truly appreciated in the last few months. Typically, I’d run away from spending quality time with people, using my introversion or ‘lack of time’ as excuses to isolate myself. However, I’ve learnt that genuine relationships are beautiful and knowing I have people I can freely talk to is liberating. Healthy relationships have the potential to ground, improve and comfort me in ways I could never achieve alone. It’s difficult to put into words. Of course, the converse applies for toxic relationships. Though it has been a struggle at times, being able to build healthy relationships through University, running or road-trips has been 100% worth it.  

2) I really don’t know that much

Young Eric’s proclivity to give unwarranted advice, make up answers to questions he didn’t know and avoid admitting he was wrong revealed a serious fault: profound arrogance. It’s taken many mistakes and difficult conversations for me to realise that I really don’t know as much as I think. This applies to more than just University, whereby I now realise every biological process I study is severely simplified, but to many other facets – especially to people. It is perhaps through reading fiction that I realised everyone has their own story, prejudices and beliefs and are much more complicated than I could’ve imagined. If anything, being older has made me realise how little I know about anything – this is both an exciting and challenging thought to grasp.

3) Consistency beats motivation

The idea here is that little things done consistently over time produce big results, and the main word is consistency. I could write my own spiel about this, but I think this article by James Clear summarises this concept pretty well:

I have a friend named Nathan Barry who recently finished writing three books in just 9 months.

How did he do it?

By following a simple strategy. He wrote 1,000 words per day. (That’s about 2 to 3 pages.) And he did it every day for 253 straight days.

Now, compare that strategy to the classic image of a writer hiding out in a cabin for weeks and writing like a madman to finish their book.

The maniac in the cabin has a high “maximum speed” — maybe 20 or even 30 pages per day. But after a few weeks at that unsustainable pace, either the book is finished or the author is.

By comparison, Nathan’s maximum speed never reached the peak levels of the crazy writer in the cabin. However, over the course of a year or two his average speed was much higher.

This lesson extends far beyond writing.

Indeed, it applies far beyond writing. This concept of consistency has played a huge role in my development as a Christian (with devotions), student (with studying), athlete (with training) and friend (with catch-ups). When I’m consistent, I tend to do better. When I’m not, I pay for it later on (e.g. cramming for Uni, playing catch-up with relationships).

And that’s it! Other notable lessons from the last two decades and a bit include the importance of sleep and how legit books/audiobooks/podcasts are as learning resources. I look forward to seeing how my perceptions of these lessons evolve over time but for now, this is what I’ve gained from my time here.

A letter of gratitude

A letter of gratitude

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Today marks the last day of September 2019 and oh boy, am I relieved to say farewell to it. If I had to describe this month in one word it would be: tiring. For the first time in my life, I experienced the feeling of burnout and how it feels to chronically be in a zombie state. But alas, I am well and recovered and I’d like to take a moment to step back and be grateful for the things I have in my life.

It never really struck me until I was preparing for med interviews, but I am really lucky to be where I am now. UniMelb is the top University in Australia and it sometimes amazes me just how qualified some of my lecturers are – some are almost celebrities in the fields they work in. Melbourne is such a convenient city filled with countless opportunities and I’m lucky to be able to even have options of what I want to pursue as a career. I can’t imagine how much it cost for my family to leave China, start up a new life in Australia and work to be able to support my move to Melbourne.

I’ve also been very fortunate to have met some amazing people. People who have such an enormous heart for serving others. People with a faith so strong that can move mountains. People who are much wiser and more knowledgeable than me who are ready to give advice when I need it. I am incredibly blessed to have a great support network around me.  

And what did I do to deserve this? Honestly, nothing. I was simply born into this family and given these opportunities on a silver platter. Most of the best decisions I’ve ever made were made by my family and I’m incredibly fortunate that they knew what was best for me. A lot of the friends I have now I just kind of fell into and it’s honestly by God’s grace that I fell into a great bunch of people.

There are a lot of other things which I could be grateful for – the ability to learn, see, run, etc. but I think this is sentimental enough. I pray that as I enter October and embark on the final leg of my undergrad degree, I’ll remember to count my blessings and not be too anxious about anything that comes my way.

Managing Imposter Syndrome

Managing Imposter Syndrome

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A few days ago, I went through some of my old journals and stumbled across an entry from 2013. It was the day before my first junior nationals for table tennis and I’d just landed in Victoria with the rest of my squad. I was representing WA in the Under 15 Boys Team and was excited to compete against other states.

At the airport

That day, the squad went to the stadium in Kilsyth to get some practice in the hall. When I stepped inside for the first time and looked around, I was shocked. All the other athletes looked so good. Their forehands, footwork and agility seemed so high above the WA standard – my standard – and the more I watched, the more I felt my confidence levels plummeting. That night, I wrote in my journal:

“I’m pretty scared. I don’t think I deserve to be here.”

28th September 2013 (age 14)

This was quite a vivid case of imposter syndrome, but I’ve noticed similar feelings in other facets of my life. For my running group, I’ve always been the slowest guy in the squad and I sometimes I wonder if I should even be there. At my work, I occasionally fear someone will realise just how unqualified I am to be purifying proteins and call me out on it. And when I do something I shouldn’t, I sometimes get the sneaky thought of, “You’re not good enough to be a Christian.”

These experiences have been great teachers and I’ve taken two main lessons away. When I have imposter syndrome, it means that:

1. I’m too outward-looking.

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

Theodore Roosevelt, former American president

In all these experiences, I’ve found myself comparing my standards to other peoples’. If I felt my standard was lower than what was expected of me, imposter doubts began to trickle in. What if I instead looked more inward and reminded myself of my ability to learn and adapt? I’d imagine I would begin to feel excited to rise to the challenge ahead of me rather than wonder why everyone else seems to do it fine.

2. I’m being pushed to perform at a high standard.

All these experiences have been in environments where I had to perform at a standard beyond my level – these then led to thoughts of inadequacy. But being asked to perform at a high standard can be a good thing, can it not? If I ever felt completely fine or even arrogant about my standing, I’d be complacent. If I didn’t have my running club to push me, I’d be at a lower fitness level than I’m at now. Likewise, if I didn’t go to junior nationals to witness the standard of other states, I wouldn’t have been able to rise to the pressure and set higher goals for myself in later years.

So, thoughts of imposter syndrome can be quite exciting as it indicates an opportunity to learn, grow and overcome new hurdles. All it takes is a little shift in perspective.

The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman

The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman

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Since I’m graduating in just a few months (yikes) I’ve begun thinking about my future and what kind of work I’d like to do. More importantly, the reasons why I’d want to do the work I’d like to do. I’ll admit, the money factor often crosses my mind during these thoughts. And it’s often a little terrifying – what if I’m called to a vocation that isn’t financially stable? How important should money be in deciding what work I choose? Over time, I’ll share my updated thoughts on this topic, but for now one text I’ve found helpful in rethinking how money relates to work is called the Parable of the Mexican Fisherman.

An American investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, “only a little while.”

The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer and catch more fish?

The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.

The American then asked, “but what do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, Maria, and stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.”

The American scoffed. “I have an MBA from Harvard, and can help you,” he said. “You should spend more time fishing, and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middle-man, you could sell directly to the processor, eventually opening up your own cannery. You could control the product, processing, and distribution,” he said. “Of course, you would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually to New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “Oh, 15 to 20 years or so.”

“But what then?” asked the Mexican.

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time was right, you would announce an IPO, and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions!”

“Millions – then what?”

The American said, “Then you could retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you could sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife and stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play guitar with your amigos.”

Source: Ali Abdaal’s newsletter, origin of the newsletter likely from Heinrich Böll’s short story Anekdote zur Senkung der Arbeitsmoral.

2019 Run Melbourne Half Marathon

2019 Run Melbourne Half Marathon

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Recently (28th of July), I ran in the 2019 Run Melbourne Half Marathon. This was my sixth race over the half-marathon-and-beyond distance and I’d been anticipating it for a while. At the time, my half marathon PB was 1:29:40 from a race in March, and I was looking to break 1:25 at Run Melbourne. The following excerpt details some of the events and thoughts from the day. Details of this run on Strava can be found here.

—

I wake up in darkness to the sound of a familiar ringtone: my phone alarm. As I reach over to turn the alarm off, I note the time on my Garmin watch: 6am. One hour before Run Melbourne. After a few minutes, I get up, turn the lights on, make my bed and stare at the running gear laid out from the night before. In particular, I stare at my starting zone on the race bib pinned to my shirt: P. P for Priority. I find it a little unbelievable – I’ve never considered myself anywhere close to an ‘elite’ runner, but here I am about to start this race with over 5000 people at the very front. Starting with people that can probably run 15-minute 5ks or sub-3 hour marathons. I shake my head, drink some water, grab my bag, and head to the venue on my bike.

Riding down Swanston St at 6:30am on a Sunday is a pretty therapeutic experience. There are no cars, no trams, and all the traffic lights are green. As I ride, I think about my goals and plan for this race. I told myself a few months ago that I would try to go sub-1:25 in this race, which is about 4:02/km pace for 21.1km. I ran a 40:00.74 in a 10k race two weeks prior (4:00/km pace), so I know that I have it in me to hold this pace for a while – but whether I can hold this over 21.1km I am unsure about. I decide to plan and run this race how I’ve run my other HMs: take the first 10k a bit slower, then speed up in the second half. This means around 4:05/km for the first half, then 4:00/km for the second.

Getting to my “P” starting zone is a little intimidating. As I jog past the “B” and “A” zones, I try my best to avoid eye contact with runners from these zones. Thanks to my peripheral vision however, I am able to gather that there are a lot of fit and lean-looking people. I begin to question myself: am I really in a starting zone above these athletes? Imposter syndrome thoughts start creeping in. However, there’s no time to think – before I know it, I hear the countdown: “3! 2! 1! … Let’s go!” and I’m starting my Garmin watch with a swarm of other runners. Beep. It begins.

The first 5k of the race feel good. At 3km, I find my friend Chris from a previous HM and tag along with him. We run together for 2km, but I decide to let him go once I see my 5km split: 19:57, or a 3:59/km pace instead of my planned ~4:05/km pace. I immediately slow down and begin to worry that I’ve gone out too fast, mentally preparing to enter struggle town for the next hour or so.

At 6k, my worries manifest themselves with the insidious feeling of lactic acid slowly filling up my legs. Each leg swing feels a little heavier, and each breath feels like I’m taking in a little less oxygen. I decide to take a fast-acting glucose gel at 7km out of desperation to give me energy, but I can’t tell if it’s helping or not. Still, I march on – there is no going back.

The first major hill at 10k is a big yikes. Seeing it from a distance immediately warranted a small prayer of desperation to God to either make the hill smaller or give me super-quads to get through it. My pace slows right down to 5:00/km up the hill, but I manage to get up it without walking. Thank you God, and thank you Melbourne Uni Athletics Club for all those hill repeat sessions.

After the hill is a bit of a blur. A lot of runners pass me, and I see many random supporters holding various signs. One of the signs say, “Don’t stop! The zombies are still behind you!” and another, “21k = 21 beers at the finish!”. These don’t really help – I don’t particularly like beer, and at that point I probably would’ve let the zombies have me.

Gratitude is a powerful emotion. And sometimes, it comes at times when you least expect it. At 18k, my body is beginning to fail. My left hip begins to cramp, my right achilles begins flaring up and every footstrike hits the ground hard. People begin passing me every couple of meters, and I begin to feel sorry for myself. I start yelling at myself for not doing more hill repeats in training, for going out too fast and for not doing enough calf raises amongst other things. But then, a wave of peace floods me. I’m reminded of how blessed I am to be living in the city of Melbourne. To be part of such an amazing running club. To have friends and family to help me through difficult times and to celebrate good times. To even exist. A scripture passage hits me hard and clear: Matthew 11:28-30. It says:

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)

I end up finishing the race in 1:28:11. While it was nowhere close to my intended 1:25 goal, I still managed a 89s PB. I’m a little disappointed after the race due to the lack of bananas at the recovery area, but soon forget about it as I begin chatting to familiar faces. One of my coaches ran 1:27 and another ran 1:19 – both huge PBs for both of them. Chris from earlier in the race went on to run 1:25, three minutes off his previous PB. I am so happy for all of them, and am excited to see the times they’ll achieve in the future. As I see other runners crossing the finish line, I can’t stop smiling – I wonder about each finisher’s own experiences from the race and whether they found it as challenging yet peaceful as I did. I check my Garmin for my recommended recovery time: 72 hours. I laugh, and hobble back to the bag drop area to begin my ride back home.

July 2019: Check-in

July 2019: Check-in

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When I first wrote my first check-in post back in April, a post aimed to ‘summarise’ the last few months, I found it quite refreshing to reflect on the months that had gone by and consider my goals for the months ahead. It’s now been three months since that post, and I feel like it’s time for another one. A few things have happened since then, including the commencement and finishing of exams, medicine interviews and holidays, giving me a lot to think about.

The Good

1. Attitudes to work

I’ve been casually working at CSL (a biotechnology company) for 7 months now as a research assistant and things are picking up. I’m by far the most unqualified person to work in a CSL lab – I’m only here on a 12-month placement while other workers have Masters/PhD qualifications – but I’ve recently started to get the hang of things and appreciate things more. I’ve since changed my attitude towards work from being a means of financial freedom, to a privilege to be able to learn and serve the community. This attitude change is remarkably infectious to other areas of life: whether that be doing the dishes (“wow, I have running water and a stove to cook with”) or getting out of bed (“wow, how amazing it is that I can wake up and live: let’s go and make the most out of this day”).

2. Running

In my April post, I set two running goals for myself: to run a sub-19 5k and a sub-40 10k by July. How did I do? Well, throughout cross country season I managed a 5k split of 18:58 in a 6k race, achieving my sub-19 5k goal. I attempted my 10k goal in a 10k road race, but ran an official time of 40:00.74 – less than a second off my sub-40 goal. While it’s a bit of a shame, I’m still happy to have gotten so close. When I wrote those goals back in April, I honestly didn’t really believe I’d be able to achieve them; they seemed way too fast. Being able to (nearly) achieve them gives me gratitude towards God for giving me the opportunity to run and live, and confidence to go out and try other things.

3. Faith

This isn’t number one on this list because for a few weeks, I was very complacent about my faith. Maybe it was exams, USyd medicine interviews* or full-time work over the break, but other things seemed to take priority over spending time meditating over scripture, evangelising or fellowship with church community. My wake-up call arrived on a camp in late July, where I spent time with some Christians and was forced to question what I was really living for. That camp sparked in me a newfound joy in scripture and a hunger to go out and love others. It was a great reminder of the importance of church community as emphasised in Hebrews 10:24-25. I’m super pumped to be able to serve in church and Uni ministry this semester and I’m excited to see what lies ahead.

*A bit of a side node on Uni and medicine interviews: I must give a few shout-outs. One is to my sister, who in the two weeks leading up to interviews, called me every night to give me support and practice with me despite her hectic schedule as a lawyer. I really don’t deserve her. Another friend I am most grateful for is Ali Abdaal. His YouTube videos on study techniques and medicine interviews highkey saved my WAM for the last two semesters and helped my med interview prep immensely.

The not-so-good

1. The holidays

…were largely unproductive. I had vague goals to read more, do more exercise and build closer relationships, but while I did do a bit of these things, I also wasted a tremendous amount of time. The habits I had established during semester pretty much fell to pieces, leaving me with little direction and letting my ‘instant gratification monkey’ run rampant. Luckily, I was able to get over this bad phase through some words from scripture, some eye-opening articles and some discussions with friends. These holidays have definitely made me weary of my instant gratification monkey in the future though.

2. Relationships

One of my goals for my last ‘check-in’ post was to love God and to love others more. And while I still stand by this, I think I need to make this goal a little less vague, for I feel as though I haven’t done much to cultivate as many meaningful relationships as I could. Superficial friendships drain me to the point of wanting to literally crawl underneath the Earth in frustration (haha #introvert) and so this is important not just as a calling, but also for me as a person. And so, this leads me to:

Goals

  1. Meditate on scripture every day for >5 minutes and catch up with >1 person a week for a face-to-face chat.
  2. Running: Maintain 50k+ a week and not get injured in preparation for my first marathon in October!
  3. Post at least twice a month on the blog.
Cytokines, “Saturn” and Life’s Allure

Cytokines, “Saturn” and Life’s Allure

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A few weeks ago, I came across this slide from one of my Immunology lectures:

Adapted from Owen, Punt, Stranford, Kuby Immunology 7ed

Thankfully, the point of the slide wasn’t to learn all these different cytokines (=small proteins that are important in cell signalling), but I remember staring at the table utterly stunned by all these different proteins within us and how unimaginably intricate our bodies are.

Sometimes, I feel a little overwhelmed by the complexity of life. How huge numbers of white blood cells are constantly circulating in us on the lookout for foreign molecules. How our cells are so finely orchestrated to secrete correctly folded proteins in just the right amount, at just the right time. How intricate cell signalling pathways are. How a tiny embryo grows into a being that can run, laugh, see, ruminate, cry and read. The more I study biomedicine and the more I uncover life’s complexity, the more I’m drawn to its allure. And even though I doubt I could ever grasp the true complexity of our bodies, it truly excites me to study it and learn more.

Some of these feelings are echoed in a song called “Saturn”. One of its lyrics I often wonder myself: ‘How rare and beautiful it is to even exist’.