Happy Birthday to Mom!

I have a tendency to celebrate people's birthdays over three days...

Years ago, I decided to make my friend Queenie a birthday meal. I forgot what happened. Somehow she talked me into making her another. Then something else happened. I think in the end I made her three meals. She was thrilled.

This year, we decided to celebrate Mom's birthday (which is on a Saturday) by cooking her a Friday night dinner, a Saturday morning breakfast, and a Sunday evening cake. It was fun to hug my Jamie Oliver cookbook again and improvise on some dishes. In addition, I got more help from good old foodnetwork.com recipes.

Friday night I made her a nice Linguine with Shrimp and Lemon Oil and Arugula Pasta, courtesy of Giada De Laurentiis of food network. (http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/linguine-with-shrimp-and-lemon-oil-recipe/index.html) As a side (become Mom loves Potatoes) I also made Jamie Oliver's new potatoes in lemon capers dressing alongside a fresh steamed Lobster.




Saturday morning I decided to follow Jamie Oliver's frittata idea but improvised with whatever I had in the fridge. In the end I made a Grilled Asparagus and Roasted Bell Pepper Frittata with a side Rosemary Straw Potatoes. It was the first time making a frittata. Watching it rise in the oven was amazing, and it looked remarkable and tasted even better.





Then Sunday night I had the urge to make some meringue, and so together with Mom we made a lovely Lemon Meringue Pie, spiked with lemoncello liquor and Grand Marnier. It was successful but I could have added a little more alcohol. Haha.

Who am I?

Lost. Silent. Drifting. Floating.

I'm losing myself. Day by day.

I've been lost for some time now. Haven't yet been found. Not really sure where to start.

Who am I? What is my identity? What lies in my future?

I'm coming near the end of one stage of my life. About to embark on another. And yet I've never been so lost.

Directionless. Compass-less. More self-doubt than I have ever experienced before.

Sometimes there are moments of inspirations. From people around me, from stories that I've read, from rare glimpse of clarity in my head when I thought I finally wrapped around my internal struggles.

But those quickly fades, as I continue to wrestle with internal struggles of pride, of greed, of ideologies and sometimes fantasies, of adjustable realities and perhaps achievable dreams.

I kind of know what I want, though not really in words. But they don't all match up. I've been having trouble putting everything in its place.

And yet I grow older still. Life awaits.

I'm terrible at letting things go. I chose of life of uncertainty and yet I am too coward to face it. I aspirate to play the role of an inspiring adventurer but yet I'm too chicken-shit to live it out confidentlly.

I want to believe that things will just be okay. But I'm not a believer.

It's becoming harder to take each step forward. There is still so much to learn, so much to improve on. But yet I am lacking focus. I sit and read and none of the contents are being filed neatly into my memory bank. They are all jumbled up, mushed up into a pile of shit that makes me feel I'm stuck and can read no more.

And then I just sit there. Pondering away. What should I do now?

Crossroads. So many crossroads. I never know how to cross them and enjoy it.

My voice has grew weaker. My eyes less confident. My steps less solid. My grips are loose.

It's becoming harder to wake up each morning. I lie around much longer in bed, with my radio blasting each morning's news until I cared about them no more.

Tic tac tic tac. The clock of life goes on ticking.

But my mind stays silently still.

Oh callouses my callouses...

Short, stubby, fingers.

Why can't you guys spread more easily?

Reach, strain, cramps...

Am I giving myself arthritis by doing this?

I have the worst possible hands for trying to learn the guitar.

At work I use size 6.5 gloves. They are frequently too small for some rooms to even stock them. Most docs look at me and wonder why I have such small hands.

I can barely get them to spread along the guitar neck...

Plus the steel strings. Oh those fine, hard, steel strings.

I wish my callouses would heal over faster so that I can keep practicing.

Why can't I get any better?

Fun Food Blog: Modern Club Teppanaki Restaurant

I always thought it was gone forever.

Probably more than 10 years ago, my old buddy Andy took me to this cozy little teppanaki restaurant on Dunbar to ty their Okonomiyaki, the only place in Vancouver to have these. For those who haven't tried it, Okonomiyaki is a version of the traditional Japanese "pancake" from Osaka, made with a mixture of cabbage and various veggies with various meats held together by a light egg batter and grilled on the hotplate. It's as much fun watching them make it as it is to eat it, and I guarantee your clothing will smell smoky afterwards. It unique and delicious. Somehow, I managed to forget both the name and location of the restaurant, and even though I've ventured around Dunbar numerous times, it never actually stood out enough for me to find it again. Eventually, I thought it had closed and forever left Vancouver and its lingering tastebugs...

Then a few weeks ago I spoke to an Uncle who knew that area well, and he told me that the place never left. I was so excited. I had to take my parents there. Finally!



We went on my birthday. It was as great as it was ten years ago. I'm not sure if the owners are the same, but their crafts was just as perfect. We tried two versions of the pancakes, one with grilled soba noodles and one without. I highly recommended getting one with mixed meats and prawns. As for the noodles, they are a nice touch but make it much more filling.

If you ever go, try to also try another version that they got, which is the pancake made not with cabbage but with green onions and mushrooms. We were too filled to try it, but it looked amazing.

I loved that this restaurant stayed open all these years. I hope that it will never close. It's the perfect setting for a nice interesting evening with unique food that you don't always get elsewhere. I love these little home-style restaurants. It's like travelling without having to pack your bags. Highly recommended.

On the other side of the table

Today I had the pleasure of being one of the interviewers for this year's candidates for family medicine residency for UBC. It's funny. I hardly felt qualified to interview these people. Firstly I never matched directly to this specialty. Secondly I think there are so many more truly devoted students out there who wish to be family doctors I felt odd that I play a part at deciding their career fates. Nonetheless, it sure was interesting being on the other side of the room being the one asking the, unfortunately, often ridiculously predictable questions. However, I love interviews, and I think it's a very precise art to perfect. From today, I've learn a couple of things that I think is true in interviews that I want to remember for when I go for interviews myself in the future. I thought I'll write them out to share. It might be helpful to some who is preparing for interviews. Others might disgree with me, but here's my take on some things to consider.

5 things I learned today when I was interviewing that might be useful to remember:

1. Make yourself memorable. I don't remember most of what each candidate said today in their answers, but I remember who made me felt they were truly passionate about something. If you think an answer is likely to be common (ie. choosing family medicine because diversity, get to do everything, continuity of care, blah...), then it's probably been said a thousand times. It does not pay to then say it one more time - it will only make me lose interest. Instead, make your answer personal. Tell me just one experience or event that shows me this job is right for you. It doesn't have to blow me away. It just has to be fresh, and I'll remember you.

2. Relax your body. I'll remember less about your words than how you look. And by that I don't mean your appearance, but instead your body language. I'll remember if you were a log, or if you were truly passionate about your answers. I'll remember if you lean forward suggesting that you were tense, or if you were too laid back as if you're so confident you didn't prepare yourself even just a little. I'll remember if you were so anxious you spoke a mile a minute, or if you were so slow that both of us almost fell asleep.

3. Be genuine but not forced. The best conversations are with people who are relaxed, genuine, and natural. Those mood makes almost everything click. If you're at ease, your interviewer is at ease, and all the better. I tend to remember, somewhat negatively, all those who were too pumped, too enthusiastic, too jittery, too confident, or too guarded.

4. Speak to be heard. Your answers are only valuable if they are digested by the interviewer. It's not enough simply to have said it out loud. If the interviewer doesn't look convinced, perhaps you need to take a different angle. The best candidates were the ones who engaged me in their answers. Often just by slowing down, letting the interviewer take in just part of the answer before going on, does wonders to maintain my attention.

5. You don't have to win me over. You just have to not mess it up. If you're plesant, natural, and genuinely identified that this job is right for you, then usually the feeling is pretty good on both sides. One or two candidates might have won me over, but more of them risked trying too hard and ended up looking worse. It's just like making a friend. If you felt like you've made a friend at the end of the interview, you've probably done pretty well.

Dis the season to be crying.

What is it about me and bad outcomes right before christmas time?

Three years ago, as a 4th year medical student in Toronto, I was part of a vascular surgery team that lost a patient on the operating table right before the joyous holiday season. The family was devastated. The surgeon, who looked so unflappable just hours before, looked so distraught I wondered if he could get over it dispite all his experience. I, naturally, wondered perpetually whether my involvement had any intricate ties to the bad outcome.

Last year, I was again on a medial team that had to deal with the tragic passing of a 1-day old newborn. It took me probably months to stop questioning every involvement I had with that case and I tried to learn from what lessons I developed from that experience to this day. That family, however, I'm sure, would be devastated for years to come.

Then yesterday, again as we stepped into the month of December, I was again intimately involved with the sudden passing of who would have been a "previously healthy female" patient. She crashed right in our emerg, and a 30-minute code couldn't bring her back. The exact cause was still uncertain, but could well have been an aortic dissection which has the potential to kill rapidly. I was the resident on the case. I don't know if I couldn't have done anything differently to prevent her death. I will probably never know. The family may even refuse an autopsy. Nothing will bring her back, however.

I don't think I am a bad doctor. I try my best with every patient and try not to ever miss anything, although that is becoming increasingly difficult as I find myself struggling with being thorough, being thoughtful, and being time-efficient. I know I did not rush yesterday. I felt I mentally covered all angles. I could always have done better on my assessment and management. That always ring true with every single bad outcome you evaluate. There was always something more I should have, could have, would have done.

Nothing could ease how terrible I felt when I had to walk into the room full of shocked family and relatives and reharsh the events that led to their loved one's surprised passing. Most of them were too shocked for questions. I would have been too shocked to answer them.

Yet another family is ruined this christmas. I don't know if other trainees are involved with bad outcomes as much as I seem to have been. Or maybe I just talk about them more. I didn't cry this time around. I felt empty inside. The sad thing was this had happened quite early on my shift. I still had hours of emerg medicine to do. I took a washroom break, shooked off my nerves, and picked up the next chart. Thank goodness it wasn't another chest pain case. I couldn't handle two in a row.

After I came home, I logged on facebook, and saw postings from my friends about their otherwise "normal" days. I thought to myself. It would be nice if having a 'bad day at work' doesn't mean someone had just died on your watch. It would be nice to not have to worry about whether your next day could be 'another bad day'. It would be nice to just go, do your thing, and come home, and that any potential imperfections do not cost lives.

But then that's all about being a doctor, I guess.

With great power comes great responsibilities. Yeah I quote from Spiderman. But it's simple enough and it's true.

The Elephant In the Room

Hey look, there's the big elephant!

Oh yeah, I've seen it lurking around for some time now.

Great, yeah I find it quite annoying.