Guess what guys??!!! I FINALLY figured out how to post links and how to post images on the blog!!! I am so thrilled right now!! Cannot wait to get started!! Holy Schmoly! I had waited so long for this, pestered the MOTH so much for this, but I am proud to say, I finally figured the damn thing out on my own!

One of the disadvantages of the MOTH being such a brilliant techie is that he tried to teach me how to do this in a very technical way. Which to him was the easiest way of doing it, but needless to say, was WAYYY over my head. But not anymore!!! Its amazing how much one can achieve in a single night shift on the neurosurgery ward!

So this is a very funny incident. And at the same time, its quite ironical, as anyone who knows me well will tell. But to properly understand the irony, one has to start at the beginning. So bear with me, but it will be well worth it, most of you will think this is absolutely hilarious!

It all started with me going to help Altrusa (a women’s service club) in their fundraising efforts. They were doing a sausage sizzle, and I offered to help. The MOTH came to drop me there, and Trish, one of the ladies there, mentioned how Altrusa was having a Cook Of The Year competition in a few weeks time. And I jokingly referred to the fact that at our place, the MOTH is the cook of the year, coz he is the one who cooks all year around! So Trish encouraged the MOTH to participate in it, Its all in good fun, she said. The MOTH hmmed and haaed, and went on his merry way.

Now this part is pure conjecture on my part, but I am fairly certain it happened. At some stage, somewhere along the line when my back was turned, the MOTH and his mother-in-law (i.e. my mother) held whispered conversations behind closed doors, and came up with a plan of attack. And what a plan it was! I didnt know what hit me, and didnt even realise it was hitting me at that time. But one fine day, they launched a carefully rehearsed attack, and before I knew it, I was agreeing to take part in the cook of the year competition!!!??!?

What the hell??? How did that happen? No clue. And the moment I fell into the trap and agreed to do it, my mum had a recipe all ready, and the MOTH was all completely in agreement with the plan for me to cook it, and my mum just conveniently happened to have free time to show me how to make the recipe, and the MOTH lovingly offered to be the quality control branch of the whole enterprise. I was beginning to smell a rat by this stage, but it was too late now.

So D-Day rolls around. I am in vampire mode, doing night shifts at the hospital, and sleeping during the day. So I sleepily drag myself to mum’s house, and half-heartedly make the suji halwa (semolina pudding) that I had been talked into. My plan was to make it so that it was palatable, and nothing more. So I made it, with mum providing helpful hints every so often. And then picked up the MOTH and went to the competition that was being held at the house of an Altrusa member. Once we got there, I handed the bowl of halwa to the judges, and then promptly forgot all about it, and proceeded to enjoy the evening socialising with the other people there, some of whom I hadnt seen in a while.

Fast forward to the end of the evening. They are getting ready to announce the winners. The chief judge (yes, there was more than one!) was not some senior Altrusan as I had imagined. No. Out trotted this fancy chef from Germany, of all places. Announces the minor prizes. Gives me a certificate for the best garnishing. Fair enough, I thought. I had taken a lot of trouble to color-coordinate the garnishing. But I nearly fainted when he announced that the cook of the year was….you guessed it….yours truly!!!

What the hell!! I dont cook. I hate it. I was sure they made a mistake. But much to my dismay, they hadnt. And then I turn around to look at the MOTH, and there he was, smiling, looking like the cat who got the cream. His plan had paid off! And now I am going to pay for this for the rest of my life. For no way is the MOTH going to give up an opportunity to have dinner cooked by the cook of the year. Every damn day of the year. And he even has the bloody trophy to remind me of it, in case I should ever have a memory lapse! Goddammnit!!

I am very angry right now, so this post might be a bit of a rant, but what the heck! Yesterday, I called up my grandparents, part of my usual sunday routine. Now, ever since my grandfather had his heart attack, our conversations somehow, have changed from a grandfather-graddaughter conversation to a patient-doctor conversation. That bothers me somewhat, but I guess its to be expected during this phase in his life. But thats not what makes me angry. What makes me angry is that every time I talk to them, I realise how their doctor’s top priority is to make as much money off my grandparents as he can, so he can fund his overseas vacations. To hell with actually doing what’s best for the patient.

When he was admitted to hospital with his heart attack, he needed an angiogram. The doctor who did the angiogram found two blockages. And he decides to treat the one that is NOT causing the heart attack. And leaves the nasty blockage that is causing the heart attack. Maybe he didnt feel competent to treat the left main stem blockage. Fine. But then why bother with the right coronary blockage, is beyond me. Just for the money. Just for the money. And then he sends my grandfather home and says, “Come back if the left main stem causes you problems”. Of course it gonna cause him problems!!

So then my grandfather develops the problems. As you do. He is now in heart failure. And what does his GP do? Gives him a shot of theophylline!!! Far out!! What moron gives theophylline for heart failure?! Not one, but three shots! Oh, and he also prescribes him glutathione tablets. Completely useless pieces of shit. No evidence to suggest they make an iota of difference.

I guess the reason it makes me angry is that everyday, I see people who are much older and much sicker than my grandfather who get much better medical care than he is getting. And there he is, languishing on the other side of the world, being nothing more than a cash cow for greedy doctors. It makes me feel like what good am I, if after all these years, I cant help my own grandfather when he is sick.

It was his dream for me to be a doctor. It was he who stood by me, and behind me, when no one else was ready to do that. It was he, who taught me how to spell, and he who bought me my first fountain pen. And it was he who has loved me unconditionally my whole life. The day I actually graduated as a doctor, he stood 10 feet tall, his face puffed with pride and joy. And now, when I see him being mistreated by people who are only in this for the money, it makes me incredibly sad. It brings a certain sense of futility to our combined dream, that one day, if and when he needed looking after, I would be the one to do that. I cant do that. And yet, here I am, looking after complete strangers. And the person who is entrusted with the job of looking after my grandfather is more concerned with his monthly paycheck than anything else.

This is the dilemna. People get older, and get to a point when they cant cope on their own. But they cant cope with losing their independence either. My parents and I think, life would be so much easier if my grandparents just moved here. Well, our life would be. Theirs would probably just get worse. And so I think, if Mohammed wont come to the mountain, the mountain just has to go to Mohammed. It is something that I have been thinking about more and more in recent times. And the more I think about it, the more compelling the reasons become to go to Mohammed. If only it was that simple. In the meanwhile, I continue to get angry at these doctors who do it just for the money. Makes my blood boil.

So here is a tag that has been doing the rounds lately. Now normally, I hate doing tags, but this one sounds like fun, so here goes.

Rules of the tag: Various situations are given. You have to come up with a song ( or a couple) that aptly describe those situations in YOUR life.

Opening credits: Hard headed woman – Cat Stevens / O meri munni – Remo Fernandes

Waking up: Beautiful day – U2/Get some sleep – Bic Runga

Average day: Everyday – Bon Jovi

First date: Full moon – Brandy

Falling in love: Can’t help falling in love – Elvis Presley / Aap jaisa koi – Qurbani

Love Scene: I really got the feeling – Dolly Parton

Fight Scene: Starting over again – Natalie Cole

Breaking up: Must have been love – Roxette

Getting back together: Oops I did it again – Britney Spears

Secret love: Days go by – Dirty Vegas

Life’s ok: Dont worry be happy – UB40

Mental Breakdown: I just wanna live – Good charlotte

Driving: O Humdum – Saathiya (all time favourite song to listen to while driving)

Learning a lesson: Hit the road Jack – Ray Charles

Flashback: Summer of 69 – Bryan Adams

Partying: Dirty – Christina Aguilera / Mundiyan to bachke rahin – American Desi

Happy Dance: RIght here right now – Bluffmaster

Regretting: Aye Khuda – Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam

Long night alone: Learn to be lonely – Phantom of the opera

Death Scene: Do Pal – Veer Zaara / Final countdown – Europe

Closing Credits: Bitter sweet symphony – The verve

In turn, I tag the following people:
Amrit, Michael, Jeff, Dipti, and anyone else who feels like taking up the tag

The question on everybody’s lips….Are our junior doctors worth more? My slightly biased opinion? Yes, they are worth a LOT more. Do I believe we in NZ will ever get paid more, with or without striking? I dont think so. And there is my problem with the strike

Anyone who believes striking for 2 days every fortnight will give us what we dream of is doing exactly that….Dreaming. I am all for doctors deserving more, and demanding more. But striking in this manner until we achieve that is nothing but arm twisting and blackmailing at its best. All it will achieve is to cripple the hospital system for a week each time. And I think that is terrible. This country’s waiting lists are bad enough without the doctors adding to the trouble.

I dont believe we as the doctors have exhausted all our other options. I think we still have a lot of mileage to gain by proper negotiations. But in order to achieve that, we need to get rid of the nefarious inbreeding that has become inherent in the doctors association. Sometimes, it feels worse than the kind of inbreeding one would find in a country like India. If the doctors are to achieve any results by negotiating, we need a decent negotiator to start with. Then, a decent PR person. Then, a decent PR campaign. The kind the nurses had in their pay dispute. Then maybe we will get somewhere.

There is a strong smell of something fishy going on in this strike. And somehow, I dont think that junior doctors are going to benefit from it at the end of the day. Some particular doctors might, but not the junior doctor population en masse.

So that is why I, vehement supporter of more pay for doctors, am also a vehement opposer of the strike. It is a shocking tactic to use, and I dont condone it in any way. And I am ashamed to say that I didnt see the light earlier, for I was one of those who voted FOR the strike. However, better late than never. I hope more doctors see the strike for what it truly is, and not continue to be led along this path. Amen.