Gentle Giants

Anesthesiologists are the ultimate Gentle-Giants. Proud, imposing, and typically tall, these men (for now they are still typically male, but that's changing...) usually towers over you with intimating amount of practical knowledge and just waiting to burn you with their pimping questions whenever the patient is asleep. When you work with a staff anesthesiologist, you know you're going to be pimped (for there is often nothing else to do during cases). However, it is interesting that they are often quite gentle in manners. They are in the business of pain-relieving, and their voices and tone reflects the quiet calm that they possess under all circumstances. They always address a patient with the most sensitive voices, and their questions always geared towards removing fear and suffering. Even when their actions are quick and precise, they are often still soft and gentle. I watched, as my staff slid in the spinal needle with his delicate fingers, or as he located the exact location of a peripheral nerve under ultrasound-guidance. You look at them and it's as if they would want you to be macho about things. But instead, they constantly remind you, be gentle, be very gentle. 

Interesting people they are. 

And on that topic, I'm 1 for 3 for spinals. Gotta do better. 

My little Blue Devil.

Not a bad day 1 of work. 

For the first week here I seem to be assigned more anesthesia than emerg, which is just fine because it allows me to focus my learning a little. Today I worked with someone equivalent to a medicine-freak-of-nature. He's a South African doc (surprise, surprise), and while he's a GP by training, he does a lot of anesthesia, a lot of emerg, some ICU, plus all kinds of small procedures such as C-sections, appendectomies, tonsillectomies, carpal tunnel releases, and of course your run-of-the-mill family practice. He also travels a lot, and goes back regularly to South Africa where he has his beach house. It's quite remarkable what one man can do, and quite confidently at that. These are the things you see out here when you do rural "family practice". 

I also brought a used bike today. It was a tip from my roommate, that someone was running a home shop called "Grandpa's bikes", where "Grandpa" collects and fixes up old bikes and resells them for $10, 20, or 30. My boss was kind enough to take me there, and I brought one for $20, my little blue devil. It's not like my hybrid back home, but it's perfect for moving me around this small town. I ended up spending more money on a lock and a helmet ($15 and 15). It's so different when you have a bike to take you places. Moving around town is a breeze now. 

Things are shaping up. There's even a gym at the hospital where I can go work out. I have what I need to enjoy the month. Time now for a little studying. 

My little Blue Devil in front of Dawson Creek.

Day 1 in Dawson Creek

It's 9:19pm. The Sun is setting. I'm struggling with my wireless internet connection that I'm stealing from around. 

It's my first day at Dawson Creek, a medium size Northern BC community and more usually known as the starting point of the Alaska Highway. 

It's quite nice here. Very quiet. Lots of time on my hands. There's a Safeway nearby. Walmart slightly further. There's your usual chain restaurants and fast-food chains. There's a small little downtown that tries hard to live up to the classic Alaskan/Gold-rish era architecture. There's a very small creek. 

I share a room with a Dentistry student at the Northern Lights College. It's clean and appropriate. It reminds me of the time I stayed at Memorial University campus in Newfoundland, or when I first moved into the Grad House in Toronto. 

I'm here in part because I want to try my hands at doing rural medicine. I'll be doing a month of anesthesia/emergency medicine here. Last time I was out rural was in a 3000-people rural community in Springdale, Newfoundland. I'm here also because I needed to get away. 

I needed to get away from my restless wandering mind. So that I can refocus my life, so that I can refocus about being a doctor. It's nice what a slow day can achieve for you. Today I did nothing but commute. And during commuting I read almost an entire paper from beginning-to-end, something that I rarely do. I also completed an entire chapter in my Obama book, something that usually takes weeks. And I previewed the anesthesia review chapter for tomorrow. I even took a nap, and went for a run. 

So I'm also here to remember what it's like to live a simpler life. It seems there is never enough time for anything back home in Vancouver. Here, it appears that there'll be more time than ever for doing nothing with. 

Today on the way here as I passed by Grande Prairie, the first two people I met had nothing Northern-Canadian about them. Or maybe that's what it's like all around Canada. I didn't ask for their names, for I'd rather just remember their faces and their stories. The first was a Somalian cab-driver who's a mother of 8 children and came here with her husband looking for a better life. In the 9 years that they were here, they brought and ran a convenient store and is earning enough to feed the kids and is planning to move into a new house this year. Her oldest son is going to U of C next year, and wants to become a scientist. The second person I met was a Philippino young man who actually lived in Taiwan for 3 years and spoke almost fluent mandarin as he was serving me my lunch at Arby's. He still refers to Taiwan as his home and frequently visits his brother who is married to a taiwanese girl there. 

Interesting people, none of which I expected to meet on my first day here up North. There are no stereotypes in Canada. You never know who you're gonna run into next. 

Officially stood up for the first time (not intentionally, but the record still stands!)

What a beautiful day to be stood up. 

I don't usually agree to being set up, especially on a blind date. The whole notion of agreeing to a formal evening with dating potential always feel artificial and forced. I always believed that the first date should not be a date officially, but only afterwards should you realized, "hey, she was nice, maybe that WAS a date!" Nonetheness, when Wilson blind-sided me last Monday morning when he asked in front of my fellow residents, "Hey! You're single! I got a girl for you!", I foolishly agreed. I thought maybe it's time I act my age and agree to formal evenings with dating potentials. 

Besides, he says she's really attractive. With endorsements like that why should I really refuse. 

So we picked a beautiful setting for the double date (he and Daisy was going to come for moral support). We decided on the Watermark Restaurant, right in front of the now officially third sexiest beach in the world according to Fodor. The weather was perfect for a dinner at a beachside patio. All day long I apprehensively felt anxious about what I had gotten myself into. Be chatty but not too much, I thought. Be funny but not stupid. Be a gentleman but be natural. It was all somewhat in vain, for I had never believed in being set up and secretly assumed that we would not get along, that I may find her non-compatible, she may find me un-datable, and we would move on our merry ways after I folk over a large amount of money for the dinner. 

Still, I told myself to be gentlemanly and even if I knew things wouldn't work in the first minute, to sit through the meal, be sociable, and move on. 

I carefully selected my wardrobe. Causal summer-white linen shirt with stylish slim jeans and a matching white belt. I kept it at one-button down at the chest to be modest, but tugged it in to make it more slim-fitting. I sprayed on some Hugo Boss cologne, not too much but enough to be teasing. I donned on my Armani watch that I got from my brother and sister-in-law, and my RayBan-like shades that I got from Lawrence which he found in his apartment when he moved out. I even got there early for a change, and paid 8 dollars in parking at the Kitsilano parking lot. I got to the restaurant and got a nice patio table that's not too hot but not too private. Enough activity to stimulate conversations, I thought, but not too sunny that the girls will be afraid of too much of a tan. 

And then I waited. Ice water in my hand, I waited and waited. 

Wilson didn't turn his cell phone on initially, so I texted him a message. They must be waiting downstairs, I thought, and so I went downstairs by the beach. And I waited, trying to look happy and calm, I waited. 

And then I finally got through to him. Daisy had been sick today, so they had to cancel and he had left me a message earlier this morning (I didn't get the message). He was sorry, but I was actually feeling quite relieved. 

Pressure's off. No need to sit through a whole evening if things don't work out. I can even get some more work done tonight that I've been delaying. I'm saved.

To some degree, it was too bad. I would never know what she would be like. Maybe she was the right girl. Maybe she's not but I would have made a nice friend. But I think I'm much more comfortable with getting to know a girl on my own terms before seeing if we have the potential to become a couple. Let things be natural, to me that's the most beautiful of relationships. 

Biking to work

Did my first biking to work today! It was not bad, and it didn't take very much longer then if I were to drive. It was quite a treat traveling on the quieter designated biking routes. They were actually quite well thought-out, with clear signs and arrows pointing you out towards where to head to. Compared to my partial trial run yesterday, climbing the initial hill up Heather from marine drive wasn't as bad either. It really felt good biking to work. Felt like I was getting healthier already. Although I was a little sore afterwards, it was a lot of fun. Here are the stats: (each trip).

Approximate distance: 9 km

Travel time: about 30 minutes

Elevation gained: about 133 m

Cool. 

Love my bike.

Another nice afternoon. I'm really starting to like this biking thing. Maybe it's the attachment I have to a bike that I put together. Maybe it's the fact that it just rides so every smoothly. Just like how I cannot describe how much I enjoy the "feel" of the ride in my car, I find myself longing for the feeling I get when I'm cruising on a nice smooth asphalt on my bike. Maybe it's the 700c tires. Maybe it's the smooth bearings. Maybe it's the slightly lower riding position. Maybe it's how fast my bike feels. 

Took it out to tackle the Oak bridge today crossing from Richmond to Vancouver. My plan is to take this route then up Heather in an attempt to bike to work at BC Women's Hospital from Richmond tomorrow. The initial climb up Heather would be the toughest part. 

On the way back, I snapped a picture of the Ceridian building that continues to somehow catches my attention every time I drive across Oak Bridge. I think it's the way the sky reflects on the many windows every morning. This evening the sun is behind it. 

Another bridge. A little less scared today. Another nice fine afternoon. Love my bike. 

Biking the seawall.

Nice Saturday afternoon. Excited to bike the seawall with my friends. Lawrence said that summer don't seem as special anymore now that we're older and working. We were determined to make it ain't so. Spent the afternoon soaking up the summer sun. Topped it off with some fine foods from Burgoo. Perfect.

Devinci-Norco Half-breed.

It all started with me being very stupid. 

Who would buy a used bike with a broken frame? 

I would. 

Well I didn't initially think it was broken. There was a dent in the frame, yes. But oh such minor details. I was too hung up on the fact that it was a really nice bike that was being sold for a very good price. Plus it has all the amenities I would want so it was basically "ready-to-go". It rode very smoothly, and it was so freakishly light in weight. I can live with the mild imperfection in the dented frame. No worries.

That's the downside when you shop on craigslist. There is no return policy. And if you're a bone-head like me who did not do a good-enough inspection when you buy something, then you would've paid a bunch of money for essentially scrap. That's exactly what happened when I went back and rechecked the "dent" the next day under more light. 

The crack was so obvious only a bozo could have missed it. 

Meet me, the bozo. 

I debated whether it was still safe to ride. I did my search on google. It appeared that the unanomyouus conclusion is that a cracked aluminum frame implies that it will one day break suddenly while you're flying downhill and that you'll fall face-first into traffic and die. There was no way I would be safe riding that now. My beautiful bike instantly became scrap metal. What a bargain. 

But one bad break led to another wonderful opportunity. I decided that I would rebuild the bike with a new frame. I loved the other components, actually. The original bike would have sold for $900 if brand new. I definitely wanted to reuse the aluminum fork, the ultra light wheels, the sleek handle-bar, and all that other jazz. 

After much hunting, shopping, and sometimes pleading with bike shop owners, I found myself a Norco Yorkville medium hybrid frame in champagne trim. The Yorkville isn't a particularly expensive bike, so the frame was slightly heavier then the old Devinci Oslo that I got. But it "would fit", I was told. And it was on clearance, so how could I refuse? So I brought it, hoping that I would not become bozo number 2. 

Eagerly, I took it home and started to work on it. I had no idea how to take apart a bike to build a new one, but I was hard-pressed not to spend an extra penny to pay someone to do it. I trusted google and youtube. It would be a fun project, I thought. 

Plus my Dad was eager to help. He really liked the Devinci and didn't want it to go to waste. He's always forever helpful and patient, so I decided that I would work with him on the bike on my day off on Canada day. 

It turned out to be a wonderful project. In the end, I had to invest in a few more specialized tools that enabled me to remove the crankset and the bottom bracket. I was lucky that the front fork fit well with the new bearings that I brought earlier, and once those two key parts were in, the rest were easy. Doing it ourselves, we were able to understand the mechanics of a bike. The cables and the gear setup made a lot of sense now, and putting a bike together wasn't all that difficult after all. If we try again now, we would be able to repeat it in under an hour. 

In the end, we made a beautiful bike. It was truly rewarding to look at something that you've built from scratch. Hours before they were various scarp metal parts, and now a beautiful champagne hybrid road bike with black trims. The final product rode amazingly smoothly, and everything felt so right. 

And the best part was that I was able to work on this with my Dad. Two people who had no idea how to put together a bike, using unfamiliar tools and without any instructions, succeeded in putting together a wonderful bike.