To start afresh.

New Year's Eve. 

To start afresh. 

Being off last week to recover from the traumatizing events two weeks ago was one thing, but returning to work at the same setting was another. Last night I was on call again with the same doctor who had discharged the baby with me two Tuesdays ago. We had a chance to sit down and talk. We shared how we dealt with things the past week. We both exchanged thoughts. 

The feeling was mutual. We recognized that we probably did what we were supposed to do, but recognized that medicine is never black and white and in retrospect that are always things to be done differently. It will always be a sinking feeling, because those questions can never really be answered, and the thoughts linger on. 

A wise surgeon had kindly told her that she cannot keep beating herself up over this, that in this line of work all we can ask for is that we did our best, or even just that we did what we should (for always promising our best is simply unrealistic and naive). No matter how we work, we will always have some bad outcomes, sometimes as tragic as this. That poor wise surgeon once had an outcome so bad that it took him months of counseling to get over. 

He kindly reminded her, that in this line of work, when bad things happen, you either decide that you don't want to face these risks anymore and do something else, or you recognize that bad things happens, that you still do a lot of good to a lot of people, and that you can still continue to try to do what you should and move on. 

Simply put, you have to try to grow up, or you're not going to cut it here. 

Time to grow up in 2009. 

Merry Christmas everyone.

Christmas day. It's nice to have most places closed such that we have a day of not having anything to do. I was going to use this day to catch up with my many "tasks" that I had laid out for myself this week. But in the afternoon my Dad suggested we go out and shoot some pictures of the snow. It was nice to be out, on a fine day with a slightly warmer temperature. We wandered around River Road and soaked in a nice calm sunset. Merry Christmas. 

Today the sun came out.

"... would it be like a mistake? Or would that be because the human body is indeed just that mysterious and medicine can't get a full grasp of it?"

".... hmm... I think the latter..."

Feeling a little better day by day is of course so much easier for me than it is for that family. But at least to some degree I've got to get myself together. Despite all the sympathy and uncertainty about just how preventable this was, I still have to remember that, as per the "House of God", that "the patient's the one with the disease". It isn't to be inhumane, but so that we can stay functional in spite of events like these. Unfortunately, eventually every bad outcome usually evolve into a learning objective. We have to be functional in order to learn to do better next time. 

It's been good talking a little about it. This is definitely the toughest part of this profession. Medicine is so non-black non-white, that almost in all circumstances you cannot be absolutely sure that you did no wrong. There might even be no answer as to what was the best course of action. Some might even argue that you can't safely claim that you "did your best" all the time. You do your work, hope that you did it professionally, with integrity, and hope that it deserves the weight of your title. That's about all we can shoot for. That's about all we can ask for anybody in their work. 

Slowly, I feel my mood becoming lighter. I almost don't want to recover too quickly, because I'll feel guilty if so. But at the same time Christmas is a time to share joy with family and friends, and I shouldn't be a grumpy no more. Do not forget to celebrate the living while mourning for the ones who left. 

Slowly, I shall focus on my life again. 

A good tear.

I finally cried. I guess that's a good thing. It wasn't a large cry. Kinda a wimpy little thing. But it's about time the tears come out. I've held them in long enough. 

It was over a talk with my mom about the incident. During a digression of the conversation, she reminded me about things I did when she got ill. She reminded that, as an example, of how I tried to do good, and how I did do some good. 

I tried. I tried. I guess that's about all I could do in my role. Continue to try. Continue to try to do good. No matter what just keeping trying to do good. 

There are too many sad stories in the world, and I've touched just one of them intimately the past week. If I want to cry over every sad story in the world, I guess I will never stop crying. More than one family will be devastated this Christmas. Let us not forget them. But the couple I met is also not the only one. 

Refocus. Realign myself. Realign so that I can once again try to do good. That's about all I can ask for myself. The retrospective lens will give many perspectives, that is no point in pondering them too much. Analysis is good, but dwelling may be counter-productive. 

Just keep trying to do good. And know that I did some in the past. 

Can't seem to get up.

Can't seem to want to do anything. All I seem to do is sleep. 

Came back post-call yesterday. Slept pretty much the whole afternoon. Went out to a house party. Had a few lighter hours, then came back and slept some more. 

Slept into the afternoon today. Woke up like a zombie. Felt like my brain hasn't switched on. Tried some coffee. Still yawning. Some sugar candy. Still yawning. 

Everyone around me is getting into the holiday spirit. All I can think about is how can I celebrate Christmas when all I can think of is that poor family. 

Hiding in my room. I need some space away from the festive mood. 

I got to get my act together. 

Sad happy faces.

I don't know how I can do this. 

I can't seem to look at another baby (or child, for that matter) without bursting into overwhelming sadness over the one that we lost the other day. How can I share in these new parents' happiness in the office, when I was so intimately part of the medical team involved with another couple losing theirs? I don't even know if I can one day go on and hold preciously my own future children, fully remembering what has happened to this family that night. 

I see these young infants at the office, or these young happy children, and their parents with all their hopes and dreams for them, and all I can think of is the loss of all those hope and dreams of that one family. So devastated. How would they go on? Their lives must be completely destroyed. 

We are all surrounded by children. We are all surrounded by reminders of this great tragedy. No one can get away. 

The night a family is ruined.

I'm not sure what I'm feeling. 

Sadness. Anger. Shame. Worried. Guilt. Concern. 

All blended into some kind of emptiness inside me. I feel sluggish. My arms weak. 

Everything time I was part of the chain of events that lead to somebody's demise, in this case a 2-day old infant, I cannot help but feel responsible, as anyone would. Was my part in this chain significant in his demise. The typical answer I get from others was that "it's not your fault". But the honest answer would be that you are always somewhat responsible. Things happen in a sequence, and having had a hand in it makes you involved. 

And as medical people, we always want to think that disasters are avoidable. I'm never quite sure what the actual answer is. To some extend, there can always be more that could have been done. The catch is that we were never aware of this before hand. 

This isn't the first time I was intimately involved in someone's death. This is also the second time that this has happened just before the holiday season. Every time this happens, I try to reflect on my role in the whole sequence. What could I have done differently, what did I do wrong?

Every time, I sit with the determination that I don't want anything like this to ever happen again. 

But shit always happens, even if it's different kinds of shit. 

Last night wasn't about my place in the sequence, or our medical team's involvement. It was about that poor family and their 2-day-old infant. That poor mother and father and older sister whose lives will be forever marred by this tragedy. Christmas will never be the same for them. Life will never be the same. For a very long time to come, their lives are completely ruined. 

Just imagine what they have to bear with when they continue to receive heart-felt congratulations for their newborn from around the world and as they open presents after presents of baby things coming their way this Christmas. 

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel. 

I'm so very, very sorry. 

A dose of Hong Kong

And so it is over, my one week excursion in Hong Kong, my packed and often way too rush "vacation", an intense but in the end quite fruitful visit with my loved ones. 

This visit, compared to my last few times, brought many conflicting feelings, including doubts towards how I feel about a place I loved so much, and mixed thoughts about what had happened to some of my closest relatives in the past few years. So much has changed with the people I care about here, but my feelings towards them remain the same. Although it had been quite draining, in the end I was glad I spent the time to come back. Through brief chats, through dinners, or even through a day of shooting photographs with a dear cousin, I was able to get back into the lives of my close ones again, ever so briefly. I always feel the unfortunate side-effect of today's global economy and lifestyle is that families are often spread across the globe, each living their separate lives, in parellel paths not always able to break free to intersect one another. However, the advantage we have is that world travel is easier than ever before. A flight is reasonably priced, and although time is scarced, there is nothing prohibiting me doing what I did this week - taking a week off and flying halfway across the globe to meet a few loved ones for dinner. That was the essence of my trip. It was worth every penny and every second of my flight.

 

Despite all that has gone on the past week and all the people I've met, perhaps the most rewarding part of my trip came at the very end when I spend 2 nights and one weekend day with my brother and sister-in-law wandering the streets of Hong Kong. I had feared we would grow apart ever since they had moved back to Hong Kong to work, a move that I might find difficult to do myself given what I do. But as always, hanging out with them brought me incredible comfort. It is always like old times. The way we goofed around, the way we acted silly. I have always felt, that no matter who we become in the work place as we grow older, that we can, and we should, always act silly at home. 

In the end, at the airport, they even brought me an incredibly expensive but memorable watch for christmas and birthday present, wanting to mark my 30th birthday with something memorable. It is, and always will be. Thank you thank you. 

It has been an incredible week. Short but dense. Dense but sweet. Sweet and worthwhile. Worthwhile and very rewarding. 

I look forward to my next dose of Hong Kong, hopefully in the not-too-distant future. I need my regular dosages, to be 

reminded of my home away from home, my mistress city, my inspiration and my deeply rooted love. 

And maybe one day it will feel like home again, even if ever so temporarily. I know I still have the hunger for it. 

Midnight charm.

Hong Kong is an acquired taste. It starts off messy, chaotic, sometimes down-right ugly, smelly, even scary. 

Gone are the tranquility of the open spaces on Vancouver, the clean streets and carpeted houses, the easiness of driving everywhere and parking somewhat close enough to your destination, the simplicity of not having to carry around the entire day's agenda on your backpack as you wander from one area of town to another running errands. In Hong Kong, "going down to get some milk" can be a bit of a chore. Quite a lot of time is spend traveling around the city. Quite a lot of time spent on your feet and feeling like you wish "home" isn't still several MTR changes away all the time. 

A few days into this trip returning to a city so deeply ingrained in my heart, and perhaps influenced by some of the negativity and sadness I have seen so far, I started to wonder if I still hold the ambition of one day consider moving back to live in this vibrant but challenging city. 

To some extend, I know I have been completely spoiled by my many years in Canada. Things have been too easy, too tame. You feel more protected. You have more privacy. 

You don't feel like you really need to strengthen yourself in an otherwise dog-eat-dog world like it feels like in Hong Kong sometimes. 

But slowly, even after a few days when I finally had some time to myself and found myself sitting alone under the Christmas decorations at Causeway Bay's Time Square one night, Hong Kong revealed its charm to me. 

Its charm, it appears, is best felt at nighttime. 

Although many people think of New York as the "city that never sleeps", my Asian roots has me feeling that Hong Kong isn't far off either. The later the night, it seems that the more people flood to the streets (don't these people have to get up early for work in the morning???). The streets are always lively, always bright, and the shopping is probably the most inspired then. Street food, street venders, everyone comes out and roam the city. Across the Victoria Harbor at Tsim Sha Tsui, one glance at the city lights spreading across Hong Kong Island tells you that this city likes to be looked at at night. She knows she's hot and isn't afraid to show it. 

It is at times like this that I most miss growing up in Hong Kong. To me it is different, seeing the city lights as a visitor versus seeing it as a backdrop to a city I live in. I think the satisfaction isn't quite complete no matter how many times and how often I come back and visit. I will always wonder what it would be like to truly live here. 

Maybe I will keep this thought after all. Like my approach with so many things in life, I may well try to keep the best of both world. There is little doubt that in the near future I will likely continue to practice medicine in Canada (I do believe that I am maladapted to working as a doctor in Hong Kong, even if they let me), but perhaps I may still consider little prolonged excursions in this city. Maybe I can take a course here one day, or further my training in a particular area, or do exchange for a month.

Who says I need to be in a monogamous relationship with both Cities I love. 

Foreign ghost.

“你是外國回來的？”

“huh.... 是的。。。”

我又給人點了像啦。。。

I don't know what gave it away. She said it was the way I dressed. I rather think it was the way I must have looked dorky, the way I looked uneasy in the mist of all these sales-harassment I was getting. I was fraggergasted and couldn't hold my ground (I didn't buy anything, but ended up trying on a bunch of flashy jackets that I couldn't really wear on the street in Vancouver unless I was going to a club or wanted to dress as a pimp). 

Yesterday, I was so happy I finally found one of my favorite hang-outs in Hong Kong in the past several visits - East 188 Shopping Center - a small, narrow, hidden, arrangement of alleys hidden among upstairs on a side street in Wan Chai. It holds a host of curious "Honger" items such as little anime figures, funky jewelries, japanese comics, video games, sometimes pirated DVDs or even x-rated movies, and quite a selection of trendy boutiques selling clothes often by the designers themselves. As much as it is always an inspirating adventure to wander through there, it often feels a little intimitating to me, because it's also where a lot of the young folks go to shop, and young people in Hong Kong has lots of attitude. I often feels very self-conscious as I wander through those shops, looking at stuff but fearing getting too much attention from the bored sales people.  I think all too often it is WAY too obvious that I have no true intention of buying - an attitude that would earn me "the eye" from a lot of the store owners. These places are also places where you would like to bargain on a purchase, and coming off as a foreigner instantly puts me at an disadvantage. 

我這個樣，給人食左都悟知啦！

因果。 Love and support.

回來幾日，聽了很多復籍的故事，很多方面的傷感。

我真的發覺，凡是都有它的因，它的果。

也很難說黑黑白白的是誰對誰錯。

要做快樂的人，不要理會太多別人的是是非非。

學得包容，也要對別人與別人做的事也得包容。

要記住，凡是也不能從表面來看。

但跟著，也不需要看的太深。

我們要關心，不得理會得太多。

Sometimes keeping a healthy distance between ones you care about is the best recipe for a long and stable relationship. 

All I can do is love and support. All I should do is love and support. 

Simple support is probably best.

Sometimes trying to do too much or trying to be too nice can have the complete opposite effect. Sometimes even enough to break apart strong bonds after so many years of tightness. 

A couple of things I learned about myself even after just my second day back visiting in Hong Kong. A lot of things have happened. Its a reminder of how often in life, keeping a simple perspective on life may be the best recipe. 

There is no point trying to please everybody all the time. That cannot happen. Too much effort pleasing one person will inevitably upset another who is close to you. Relationships in life should exist in a comfortable balance, with family being at the core, and should always always take the center-piece of your attention. 

I should try not to forget that. 

Everyone, every family has their own struggles. I can only keep to my own while offering my support to others. My role isn't to help them all. I am too powerless for that and it'll be arrogant to think I can do otherwise. What is my role, when others are in need?

Support. Listen. Sometimes just being there. I don't know what it can achieve. But I can only remind myself that I can only do so much. It's not my place to over-extend my boundaries. Caution must be exercised even if I were to try to help. 

Otherwise I can very easily be pouring oil over fire. 

I don't know what to do anymore. I am lost. But I'm here. I'm here to listen. To offer a therapeutic presence if I could to anyone who needs one. I'm not here to cast judgement. I'm not here to save anything. 

I can only hope that with time, things will get better. 

Offer simple support. Stay true to my intensions. Answer only to my heart. That's about all anyone can do anyways. Don't get myself into too many things. Even good deeds need to recognize boundaries. And I can't please them all. I won't please them all. 

Sunrise in HK that I cannot see.

5 am. Woke again. I joked that this jet lag thing is like being post-call when you haven't slept for 24 hours or more. I often don't feel like sleeping the day off anyway. But here in HK, at 5 in the morning, there's NOTHING TO DO but just lie here!

Listen to my ipod. Think about things. 

It's nice catching the sunrise in HK, actually, even though I actually can't see the Sun. 

Grand-father clock rang again. 

Quiet time.

On my 13-hour flight to Hong Kong...

Of all the things I look forward to, in the hectic state that I was in this morning as I feverishly packed my bags, I most looked forward to some down-time on my flight. 

Funny. It's often what most people dread the most when it comes to cross-Pacific travel. 

But I quite like flying. I like going to the airport. I like the prospect of leaving for a journey, no matter how short, no matter how familiar it might be. And as it has became so often that I would travel alone, I enjoy sitting quiet at the boarding gate, often with a book in hand and listening to my ipod. It's my protected time. Nothing matters anymore once I'm at the gate. The bags are checked, the rush to the airport is behind me. There is nothing else to do but wait. And it's nice. 

Then, on the plane, I often quickly settle into my seat with my abundance of conveniences before more - my bottle of water that I brought just before boarding, my ipod, a book, maybe a diary, a magazine, and sometimes a few snacks - all shoved into the little seat pocket in front of me. For the next 13 hours, it is just me and me alone. I can do whatever. I don't even have to sleep if I don't feel like it. It is a time for relaxation. No tasks to really do. No timeline to follow. 

So far, I've watched one movie (Tropic Thunder), read though today's paper, read through the LX3 instruction booklet, and did a few work on my computer with my photos. About another 9 hours to go. Gonna watch a few more movies, and maybe even try to finish my book, finally. 

And of course, I still look forward to my airplane meals. I've always enjoyed them. I don't know why. So far, I have still only found one person who has shared my enthusiasm for airplane food, and even her interest is fading, I think. 

What should I do now? It's nice to have time on my hands for a change. 

Cutting back

I have way too many distractions...

Medicine. Photography. Guitar. Friends. Workout. Finishing my book. Catching up on movies. Making my way through the bunch of new CDs that I got...

I'm finding it harder and harder to squeeze in all those interests into a 24-hr day, even if I don't sleep all that much. 

And even if I'm at each "station", my mind wanders. Rarely can I focus on just one thing at a time. Call me hypomanic. 

But above all, I feel like I'm not giving enough devotion to what I really should be doing above all else - medicine. Last year, as part of my mental shape-up to survive the year as an Internal Medicine resident, I've grew accustomed to looking at work as just simply that - work, and basically went through the whole year somewhat detached, disengaged, to what I am learning and the people I was helping. 

Slowly, this year after my switch to Family Medicine, I realized that I had it all wrong. Almost too late, but good thing I still have more than a year of training left. 

Residency in medicine isn't about work. It's not a job. It's about learning opportunities. It's more for me than it is for the hospitals and staffs I work for. They can do just fine, but it'll be good for me if I do it for them, so that I can learn. 

I stopped seeking learning opportunities a long time ago, soon after I decided that I wasn't in the correct specialty last year and that I was just riding it out until I decide what to do with my life. I stopped feeling excited to start each new rotation. In fact, like a few of my fellow classmates, all we wanted to do was get work over with, and go home. 

Slowly, and thanks to the new class of keen residents I've met in my Family Medicine program, I'm remembering that I'm still here to learn, not to work. In Family Med, we have a mere 2 years to pick up all we need to know to feel confident to start, and to have enough foundation to grow into a lifetime of more learning, self-directed style. 

I've seen many inspirational efforts from my fellow residents this year. How they list out all their cases, how they seek new hands-on opportunities, how they critically assess all that they have learned so that they can mature rapidly in this difficult field. 

Surviving in family medicine may not be too difficult, because most illnesses are not immediately deadly. But to be a damn good family doctor is quite a different story, and takes lots of dedication and motivation, and quite possibly harder than being the expert on just one field. I know, for I've been on both sides of the fence to some extend. 

Now I'm doing my Obstetrical rotation at Peace Arch Hospital in White Rock. I'm honestly quite weak in Obstetrics, for it's been 2 years since I've touched a baby. So far I haven't been as keen as I should have been in order to gain competence in it. I've decided that I need to trim down my interests. All those other hobbies are fine, but should take a back seat to my learning. I'm trying to adapt a new routine where I will submit myself to at least 1-2 hours of reading after work in a coffee shop before I go home. This is so that when I'm home, I can feel rested, and not have to "catch up" on what I'm supposed to learn that day. This way, I'll also be able to reserve half and hour or so of time for myself and my other interests. And for about 1 day a week, spend more time at it. Pacing myself, so that when I'm at work, I don't have the urge to finish up and go home quick. I can stay there, observe, learn, do. 

It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity after all. 

James Blunt in Concert

It's the second time I've experienced it. The first time was Damien Rice, this time was James Blunt. 

One man. One voice. So powerful. 

How can one voice be so powerful. It moves an entire arena full of people. It makes people forget their worries. It makes the grumpiest of the grumpies relax and sway. 

And grumpy we could have been. 

As seems so typical of high powered performances nowadays (take Madonna's for example, from what I've read), pop stars are used to starting their shows late. I believe Madonna started her 7:30 show at 9 something. This time, James didn't take on the stage until a little past 8:45. What filled the gap between the opening at 7:30 and his appearance was a mediocre band called White Falcon. They filled in the space when people wandered in late, went for beers, or just sat and mingled. Poor them. They performed well, but they were no James Blunt. 

And the the stage crew took on a longer-than-expected stage-change time, unvieling an amazingly unexpected electronic backdrop in the middle of GM Place. I didn't even see the capabilities of the backdrop until well into the show when it expanded and lid up all sorts of ways. It was amazing. The lasers. The flashes. The crystal balls. 

The man who stood as the center of attention for more than two hours capativating the audience with nothing more than just his rusty, powerful and amazing resilient voice. 

I dunno if it's the lights, the smoke, the mike tuning, but it all sounds so much more intense when he takes the stage. I had already felt anxious about the late start, for I have to get up early tomorrow and will be on call through the night so I didn't want the show to start too late. I was worried. I almost just wanted to get it over with and go home. 

And then he came out, and I forgot I had to sleep early tonight. 

Despite having only two CDs, it was enough. All his songs were so much better live, and he was singing with so much more soul than in his albums. He was a real entertainer, too. He knows how to work the crowds, who don't need much working, because we already loved him. 

Thanks, to Amy and her keen ticketing skills, we got floor tickets for the show (my first time on GM place's floor!!!). It was amazing. I was double-lucky because despite not allowing "cameras" (in quotation because it seems that only LARGE cameras like mine were prohibited), the man at the door listened to my pled ("....but I ALWAYS take pictures in concerts...!") and let me tuck my D80 and the LARGE LENS in. It was awesome. I love concert photos. I wanted to capture every moment so that I can saviour it later on. 

Concerts are always worth the money. It often doesn't seem so before the show. But once you're in it, it makes you forget. It's why we go to entertainments. We need to be entertained beyond what we're capable of ourselves. 

And the last act, when James ended with disco-like lighting and party papers raining down on our floor-folks, it was quite a scene. It was a real party, right up to the very end. 

James Blunt, GM Place, Vancouver, November 17th, 2008. 

Here are a few shots from that night. Gonna upload newleaf gallery soon with a few more. 

In the end, they released a bunch of party paper strips that rained down on us. The finale was amazing. 

Quantum of chaos

Just came back from watching the new Bond movie, Quantum of Solace with Lawrence and Wen Wen. It just came our this past Thursday. We waited more than an hour in line to get in so that we don't get stuck at the very front like how we always do. 

It was fun. But the last one was better. I guess that was expected. 

Fast, chaotic, and at times outright confusing, this was more about Bond going on a rampage with intentionally orchestrated chaotic chase and fight scenes that sent even the quickest eyes wondering who's chasing who now. The camera work is intense, almost as if taking a page out of home-made video action flicks. It started off with an intense car-chase that saw little of the car and everything else, and followed by many more scenes like that. They're entertaining, but at times I found that I had to squint just to let my eyes rest a little. 

And it seemed that the movie was as much about hidden agendas as it is about the main plot. In fact, I thought the main plot was rather thin. The focus was clearly on the action in this one. There was little tension as to when the bad guy was gonna lose. because, well, quite frankly, you don't really know who's the real bad guy (and there haven't been enough of development of the story for you to really care). 

And there was very little gadgets. But I guess that's the direction of this franchise now. I was quite impressed with the itouch-like computers that they use. Inspiration to get an iphone?

All in all I thought it was a fun 2 hours. I have the craving to watch the last one again just to put the pieces together. It's an entertaining flick, even if it wasn't as good as the last one or as epic as Dark Knight had been (even after having seen it twice). 

Lost in TV

Ahh... I know I shouldn't have done it. It would ruin my life patterns. 

But man is it gripping. 

About a week ago my parents found my stash of "LOST Season 1" DVD in my room as they were looking for something to watch...

The rest is a full week of not really doing anything else at night but glued to episodes after episodes of gripping suspense (some of which I have already seen, but man it's so tempting...). 

It totally ruined my routines. Gotta get back to the books. So much to do. 

Yet I'm so weak. That music just pulls you in...

Gotta refrain. Or at least learn to set limits...

So weak. So weak. 

(Gotta go find Season 2 this weekend). 

Canucks 1 Coyotes 0

Canucks 1 Coyotes 0

Not a lot of goals, but it was still amazing. I don't go to hockey games very often, for they are pretty expensive, but every time I go I really feel the magic of being in the arena. It's quite different than watching it on TV. It's like being in a party room with 18 000 people, all united with the same ambition, to watch their home team win. Tonight I brought my parents to the game together with Edmond. After not having watched a single game since coming back to Vancouver last year (and went through 4 years in Toronto without going to one), I was determined to get my hands on a few difficult-to-get tickets. Luckily, the BC Medical Association releases a few discounted tickets at the beginning of the year and I locked up some. I really like taking my parents to the game. For Dad, it's a typical guy feeling to share the excitement of a sport with him. For Mom, who doesn't know the game well but enjoys watching it from time to time with us when we dominate the TV channel, it's a real treat. She knows enough when to cheer and the basic rules from driving us to and from minor hockey games with the other hockey moms when we were young. And she loves excitement. So naturally, it doesn't matter who the player is, she cheers as excitedly at good plays. She's had her share of favorite players, among them the diplomatic Trevor Linden and Markus Naslund. 

I always find it an interesting feeling when I go to see famous people perform, whether it be hockey players, race car drivers, or singers. It's always a bit of a shock to see them in person, because they would look, well quite frankly and a little disappointingly... very dully human. For almost all other times of the year, these people are portrayed larger-than-life. They're idols. They're heroes. They are the rich and famous and they might as well be from Mars. They hang with super models and they live in mansions. But up close, they somehow actually looked kinda small. Life-sized, and from afar even pocket-sized, it seems. How can individuals accomplish so much, have so much effect on others, when they are simply just like the everyman. When they get sick they still need a doctor. When they're upset they still cry. They laugh. They eat and sleep just like we do. It's.. not such a big deal for them to go about their lives. 

But I still get inspired watching them. Because even though they are just human, they somehow have consistently performed at such an almost-perfect level in their work that has gotten them to where they are today. It's that thrive for

 perfection and dedication that inspires me. I look at myself, today as a doctor, and most people would expect the same devotion that got me where I am today. But I crumple in comparison. My days seem so much more trivial. But could that be? It's not that I look at my work lightly, because it isn't. But somehow, I just feel small. 

It's good to be inspired by others who are so great. It makes me demand more of myself. I look around today at the game, and saw lots of wide-eyed kids. My mom mentioned how those parents are so generous to pay such high prices to bring their kids to the games. I thought to myself, for sure I will too, in the future. I want them to be inspired just like I did. 

I want them to have heros too.

Some shots from tonight's game. Apparently they don't let anyone use a zoom larger than 75mm on their camera on the lower floor. How disappointing! I could only get my shots from our nosebleed sections up above. But the angle of view was quite decent.  You can see the rest of my pictures on my facebook site.

Obama day

(from Brazil)

With the US election over, there's been a lot of optimism and seemingly lighter spirits that I've noticed around work today. A lot of it is hype, I'm sure, for nobody knows if he can really deliver the "change" he promise so much during such difficult circumstances that he's stepping into. And even that, just exactly what this "change" is I'm not really sure. During political campaigns, everything becomes so emotionally charged that you don't really know what actual promises were made, and what each leader is really setting out to do. Time will tell in terms of what he does for America and for the world, but at least we're start off on a more positive note. 

In the globe today there's a cute little section that showcases some of the newspaper headliners from around the world. I love reading headliners. It gives me a glimpse into how the rest of the world is feeling about this event. As you can see, most papers appear to openly embrace this "change". I remember that just 4 years ago, when most of us (at least myself) were so disappointed that John Kerry fell apart in his campaign and lost to Bush, one of the major headliners the next day listed, with big bold letters, "FOUR MORE YEARS". Well 4 years are over now, and this time, the tone is much brighter. Much more promise. 

Congratulations Barak Obama. I'm eager to see what you can do. With time.

(Canada)

(Florida)

(Chicago)

Smooth as silk

Smooth as silk. 

My shifting is seamless again. What a relief. 

I've always loved everything about car. In fact, when a friend asked me for some "objective" criticism of it, all I could muscle out was a few vague comments on "oh.. the seats are a bit stiff after long rides..." and such. Hardly objective. My friend ended up buying her own Si within a week. She loves it, too. 

But there's always been one, pardon the expression in light of my recent injury, Achilles' heel. As a factory defect, the 3rd gear synchro in the otherwise amazingly tight and accurate 6-speed gearbox tend to catch, especially at slower speeds in cold weather. At times it would not engage, and if I'm careless (as I've been initially), the gear would "pop back out", sending my gearbox into a split-second grind, sending a shiver up my spine. I did that a few times occasionally, and since then I've been quite apprehensive about shifting into 3rd gear. I would keep my force on the stick nice and form, feel the click, then release the clutch, hoping that it would not pop out. Every shift became a slight scare, and a relief when it engaged successfully. It greatly impacted my shifting time, and deterred (however mildly) my driving excitement. 

My friend Lawrence, thought his ventures on online civic blogs, came up with a Honda bulletin promising a fix. It required a complete transmission strip down (not far off from the emotional context I would expect from being asked to physically strip down myself). They promised to replace the 3rd gear synchro, a fix that should rectify the problem. Worried, I brought my car in for the "tranny transplant". 

So far so good. 

The 3rd gear now seems smooth again, as it swishes into the slot nicely upon soft pressure. There's even a nice soft sound when it engages, and I think I can feel confident again. It's still early in my testing, but I'm hopeful that the problem would disappear. It's a lovely little gearbox, the Honda 6-speed on the FG2. An amazing little box it is. 

Click. Smiles. Click. Smiles. Click. Still smiles. 

Olympic crazy

We're about to drop over $2500 as a family in Olympic tickets for the upcoming 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver/Whistler. A set of opening ceremony tics, a pair of gold medal ice hockey games, and a bunch of quarter-final or preliminary games as well as a few figure skating ones for my parents. Of course it all depends on whether we get the tickets through the lottery system, but I figured even if I have tickets left over, it shouldn't be too much trouble getting rid of them (probably at market price, as my ethical friend Queenie would demand). After missing out on this summer's amazing Beijing opening ceremony, I'm sure my mom would love to go to this one even if it is pale in comparison. Hopefully we can get these tickets. It's a tad early, but the olympic craze is rising a little before the November 7th deadline for requests. 

Today I simplified the title of my blog back to 'newleaf'. I felt the extension 'life' felt a little melodramatic. Newleaf is newleaf. No need to spice it up or brand it. It has all the meaning it needs. 

Working again tomorrow. The last four days off from ER shifts had been like a mini-vacation. I hadn't opened a book since Thursday, and already I feel that my medicine is rusty. Medicine is so hard to become fluent in!

Extending new life.

It all started with a bit of impulsive radical reworking of my 4-year project of newleaf. I wanted to wipe everything. A clean slate. A new beginning. All that stuff. 

Newleaf started in 2004, when I was a first year medical student living in a dorm room in Toronto with my newly acquired digital camera (the well-loved Canon A70). It began following inspirations from the likes of 'daily dose of imagery' and 'shutterbug from tracy' photoblogs. I wanted to document my world through my eyes. But more than anything I wanted a place to make use of the hundreds of digital photos I could now generate by no longer using film. 

Plus I love to write, although I am not much of a writer. But I 

like to put words to my photos, instead of just the picture itself. In addition, I wanted a place to showcase some of my works, sort of a virtual gallery per se (I figured it'll be quite a while before I can really hold an actual gallery with REAL prints, if ever). Newleaf was where my visual imagination could run wild. My hidden graphic designer meet aspirating doctor. It never became really big, but through my few very dear and loyal friends, it stayed alive. Life could never allow me to upload it everyday anymore, but occasionally I still find comfort with having a place for myself to post. My thoughts, my works, my freedom. 

But as my friend Kenny pointed out, Newleaf gradually became more of a writing blog than a photoblog. I guess I just had too many things to say than a simple picture could provide (how

 ironic that a picture could not tell as many words). I started building a habit of using a string of photos to form a visual essay, but more and more I found the old format limiting. I could not portrait the story as I would like. The old page also felt too "clean". It was too much of a gallery for my liking, and not enough randomness.  Things felt too, well, controlled. 

But as is so typical of my character, to think that I can part with a virtual gallery that ran for 4 years is fooling myself. I was torn. I have limited time to upkeep my blog, and the old newleaf clearly serves a different purpose. I just needed a less controlled space. To scream, to laugh, to express. As such, I've decided to make this blog an extension of newleaf, to be called 'Newleaf Life, a lifeblog', to be used as a collection of regular photos, regular writings, all that stuff. This will be the place where I'll be doing the most update. Whereas the original newleaf I'll keep as purely my virtual gallery for designated photos. It's got a much more tranquil atmosphere there. Perfect for showcasing one or two special pictures, not a whole host of every random thought under the sun as you may see here. 

I hope this new format works. As you can see, I'm already writing a lot more. I hope you like what you see. Here. Everywhere.