Yee's classification of cycling distances:
< 5km: Test drive
5-20km: Quick spin
21-40km: Casual ride
41-60km: Trip
61-80km: Journey
80-100km: Expedition
> 100km: Tour de Singapore
Trip statistics
Total distance: 115.46km
Time spent travelling: 6:08:11
Total time spent: ~ 8 hr
Average speed: 18.8km/h
Maximum speed: 43.5km/h (full MTB, with the help of downhills)
Today's bicycle trip with Gerald and his friend Melissa qualified for the final category.
Unlike the previous time when my travel distance exceeded 100km (it was some cycling for donations event, going up and down the length of East Coast like gerbils on a treadmill), i did not experience any major difficulties, no cramps or knees giving way. Was pleasantly surprised, considering most of my cycling tended not to venture beyond the "trip" category.
Gerald was his usual pro self, leading the front most of the way and bringing us to the 4 corners of Singapore: Woodlands, Boon Lay, Raffles Place and Changi. I acted as rear man as Melissa was the least experienced amongst us. Still she did great, better than me when i first started out with cycling.
Slept from 3:30pm to 8:30pm yesterday in preparation for the expedition, which was a good idea as i needed the energy reserves during the last leg. Ate a lot during the journey, thanks to my already high basal metabolic rate. When i reached home, immediately took a shower and slept for another 3 1/2 hours.
Feeling almost as good as new now. Tour de Singapores will not be what i do on a regular basis, being still more comfortable with shorter trips, but an occasional long trip such as this is a good test of your perseverance and a break away from the routine routes and cycling experiences.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
Reading the recent newspaper report about how a taxi driver was robbed, beaten and left unconscious and dying in a public area with no passerbys rendering assistance for a few hours sent a chill down my spine. That poor victim did not make it in the end. Though he was sprawled on the ground and bleeding from his mouth and nose, there were people who assumed that he was "just drunk and sleeping". I believe that any layman would know that a drunkard sleeping it off on the pavement is not likely to be bleeding from his orifices, and even if one knew nothing about first aid and rescuscitation, the least which could be done was to dial "995". The more i thought about it, the more it seemed to me that the "i thought he was drunk" justification by those passerbys who did not lift a finger to help was just a lame attempt to placate their own conscience. More chillingly, it could even be that no one bothered to approach him to see if he's alright.
I know little about the case other than what i had read in the newspapers. However, i would venture to say that if the man was sent to hospital a few hours earlier, that could have made a world of difference. He appeared to have suffered from head injury, and if there was any bleeding into his skull, the raised pressure in his skull could have pushed his brain out through the hole where the spinal cord passes through (herniation through the foramen magnum), damaging the brainstem and causing respiratory depression and death. This can happen within the span of a few hours, and can be prevented by prompt surgical intervention.
I've experienced a similar situation before, having found a man collapsed at the side of the ICA building. The crowd continued going about their usual activities with nary a glance at the man lying on the ground. As i went forward to try to rouse him, an old man sitting just metres away said in an all-knowing tone: "Aiyah, don't bother about him, he's drunk." If that's the case, why couldn't i smell any alcohol on his body, or see any drink bottles nearby? Thankfully, he was breathing and erring on the side of caution, i decided to call for an ambulance. Only after i had done so did the security guards start coming, and a crowd start building up. It seems that no one wants to be the first to get involved, and yet when someone takes the initiative, then everyone clamours to be the hero and ad-hoc commentators. That guy turned out to be okay in the end, but i had a full experience of the infamous singaporean apathy. Remember this long ago report of someone who had fallen down in his country club in heavy rain, and he kept asking for assistance but people just walked past a few steps from him? I used to marvel at how such a thing could possibly happen - now i know that such a situation is very true.
What is the cause of this disturbing phenomenon? Is it that Singaporeans just plain don't care about whether a stranger lives or die? Is it that we are so shrouded in our inhibitions and fear of petty consequences ("oh, what if he was actually just sleeping and scolds me for just waking him up?"), or that we are so secure in our own safe world which dictates that we'll never see someone dying on the street? Or is it a "why me, why not someone else" attitude? Or "i'm not the only one at fault if he's actually dying, since others also didn't do anything"? The worrying thing is that it's probably all of the above, the exact reason depending on the individual. I daresay if you were robbed at orchard road, no one would render any assistance, even just by screaming or something. They'll look surprised, give the "it's none of my business" look and hurry away. You'll be lucky if someone even calls the police or remembers how the robbers look like and gives eyewitness testimony.
To all those who read this, please i appeal to you: if something obviously doesn't seem right, i.e. someone lying in the middle of the road, don't assume that he must be okay since there are so many people around or think that someone else could help him. It does not take much to approach the person, shake him to see if he responds and call the ambulance if he cannot be aroused. All these do not require any medical knowledge, just a heart and some initiative.
I know little about the case other than what i had read in the newspapers. However, i would venture to say that if the man was sent to hospital a few hours earlier, that could have made a world of difference. He appeared to have suffered from head injury, and if there was any bleeding into his skull, the raised pressure in his skull could have pushed his brain out through the hole where the spinal cord passes through (herniation through the foramen magnum), damaging the brainstem and causing respiratory depression and death. This can happen within the span of a few hours, and can be prevented by prompt surgical intervention.
I've experienced a similar situation before, having found a man collapsed at the side of the ICA building. The crowd continued going about their usual activities with nary a glance at the man lying on the ground. As i went forward to try to rouse him, an old man sitting just metres away said in an all-knowing tone: "Aiyah, don't bother about him, he's drunk." If that's the case, why couldn't i smell any alcohol on his body, or see any drink bottles nearby? Thankfully, he was breathing and erring on the side of caution, i decided to call for an ambulance. Only after i had done so did the security guards start coming, and a crowd start building up. It seems that no one wants to be the first to get involved, and yet when someone takes the initiative, then everyone clamours to be the hero and ad-hoc commentators. That guy turned out to be okay in the end, but i had a full experience of the infamous singaporean apathy. Remember this long ago report of someone who had fallen down in his country club in heavy rain, and he kept asking for assistance but people just walked past a few steps from him? I used to marvel at how such a thing could possibly happen - now i know that such a situation is very true.
What is the cause of this disturbing phenomenon? Is it that Singaporeans just plain don't care about whether a stranger lives or die? Is it that we are so shrouded in our inhibitions and fear of petty consequences ("oh, what if he was actually just sleeping and scolds me for just waking him up?"), or that we are so secure in our own safe world which dictates that we'll never see someone dying on the street? Or is it a "why me, why not someone else" attitude? Or "i'm not the only one at fault if he's actually dying, since others also didn't do anything"? The worrying thing is that it's probably all of the above, the exact reason depending on the individual. I daresay if you were robbed at orchard road, no one would render any assistance, even just by screaming or something. They'll look surprised, give the "it's none of my business" look and hurry away. You'll be lucky if someone even calls the police or remembers how the robbers look like and gives eyewitness testimony.
To all those who read this, please i appeal to you: if something obviously doesn't seem right, i.e. someone lying in the middle of the road, don't assume that he must be okay since there are so many people around or think that someone else could help him. It does not take much to approach the person, shake him to see if he responds and call the ambulance if he cannot be aroused. All these do not require any medical knowledge, just a heart and some initiative.
Monday, June 25, 2007
I came across this red heart cushion named "Famnig Hjarta" (don't u love those weird Swedish names?) when shopping around IKEA Tampines for Pofun's desired birthday present. She wanted a blanket quilt, which i found rather ridiculous considering the hot weather here, but still it's great to abdicate the responsibility of choosing a present myself. Yeah, guys hate it when the girl replies "Anything" to "What would you like to have?", cos that actually means "I'm testing whether you have a telepathic connection with me and sense that i actually want *insert ridiculous item here*"
Anyway, at $10, this cushion is quite a steal, at least compared to the quilt (which by the way, was made of real duck feathers!). Thought it'll be a sweet thing to give as well, if not for a few problems. For one, it seems too... impersonal. It also just lacked the spark that a good gift should have. Still, i felt an idea worming its way into my head, so i bought it and hid it in my wardrobe while deciding what to do.
It was another 2 weeks before i went to Daiso at Plaza Singapura to buy a length of felt ($2 as always). And it was another 2 weeks before i started putting my plan to action. After two hours of meticulous work......
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I may be totally incapable of drawing, but that doesn't mean i can't be artistic! Time to blow my trumpet a little: I came up with the design, cut up the felt myself, and sewed it on the cushion using back stitches. Even the inner holes of the eyes and mouth are carefully stitched on. The only thing my grandma helped with was the first couple of stitches to secure the felt, as i could not risk crooked eyes or mouth on the cushion. Actually a job like that required more tenacity than skill - the patience to adjust the facial features to perfection and make each stitch close and uniform. And thus:
IKEA Famnig Hjarta Cushion = $10
One roll of Daiso felt = $2
Making your g/f think you're a SNAG without breaking your bank = priceless
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
It's been quite some time since I last logged on.
Like a once living being which had just breathed its last, the abandoned blog has a downward spiral of decay.
After a week of inactivity, visitors to the site will start to decline.
After a month, nothing seems worthy to write about.
After 3 months, spambots will swoop down on the stricken blog, indunating the tagboard and comments section with recommendations of "V1agra" and "Hot XXX videos".
After 6 months, images links from other sites will start getting broken as the other sites renew and update themselves.
After 1 year, your links will begin to disappear from your friends' blogs.
And eventually, all is left when the lone visitor visits the site would be a "404 not found" page.
Wait even longer, and if you're lucky your site address would be taken over - by a pretty young photowhore, or an emo with his bad poetry ("Shakespeare HATES your emo poems"), or a fan site of 16th Century French Renaissance paintings. And eventually the will of the new webmaster will collapse, and the cycle of decay starts anew.
But an image of what your site once was will forever remain, a fossilised footprint deeply buried within the vast cacophony of information. Google's cache will look into it that your stale wit and recollection of mundane events will be stored for eternity, a celebration of the insipid lifestyle you led.
Even as i leave this blog to decay, it seems to remain an accurate portrayal of the person that i am becoming. Sometimes, it seems that my soul is dying bit by bit, getting dragged ever deeper into the depths of satisfied discontent and apathy. I seem to wander through my existence, noting with painful awareness that the doors of opportunity are closing one by one, but not being able to muster the courage to walk into one of the remaining open doors. There is nothing i can blame but myself, trapped in my cramped zone of comfort, never ever wanting to be clueless, afraid, awkward.
Some say you've grown up when you feel that there is no longer anything that's worth learning, and that stemmed from the observation that children are the most prolific learners. I think otherwise. As you learn, you grow; and only when you stop learning do you start dying. And the most learning occurs with unfamiliar things: Unfamiliar people, activities, roles. Deep within me is a free spirit which is slowly being suffocated by my inhibitions - when it dies, all which will be left behind is an empty shell of a man, a defective being with his stagnant skills and experiences, with nothing more considered worth adding.
I don't want to become like this. I don't, i don't, i don't..........
Like a once living being which had just breathed its last, the abandoned blog has a downward spiral of decay.
After a week of inactivity, visitors to the site will start to decline.
After a month, nothing seems worthy to write about.
After 3 months, spambots will swoop down on the stricken blog, indunating the tagboard and comments section with recommendations of "V1agra" and "Hot XXX videos".
After 6 months, images links from other sites will start getting broken as the other sites renew and update themselves.
After 1 year, your links will begin to disappear from your friends' blogs.
And eventually, all is left when the lone visitor visits the site would be a "404 not found" page.
Wait even longer, and if you're lucky your site address would be taken over - by a pretty young photowhore, or an emo with his bad poetry ("Shakespeare HATES your emo poems"), or a fan site of 16th Century French Renaissance paintings. And eventually the will of the new webmaster will collapse, and the cycle of decay starts anew.
But an image of what your site once was will forever remain, a fossilised footprint deeply buried within the vast cacophony of information. Google's cache will look into it that your stale wit and recollection of mundane events will be stored for eternity, a celebration of the insipid lifestyle you led.
Even as i leave this blog to decay, it seems to remain an accurate portrayal of the person that i am becoming. Sometimes, it seems that my soul is dying bit by bit, getting dragged ever deeper into the depths of satisfied discontent and apathy. I seem to wander through my existence, noting with painful awareness that the doors of opportunity are closing one by one, but not being able to muster the courage to walk into one of the remaining open doors. There is nothing i can blame but myself, trapped in my cramped zone of comfort, never ever wanting to be clueless, afraid, awkward.
Some say you've grown up when you feel that there is no longer anything that's worth learning, and that stemmed from the observation that children are the most prolific learners. I think otherwise. As you learn, you grow; and only when you stop learning do you start dying. And the most learning occurs with unfamiliar things: Unfamiliar people, activities, roles. Deep within me is a free spirit which is slowly being suffocated by my inhibitions - when it dies, all which will be left behind is an empty shell of a man, a defective being with his stagnant skills and experiences, with nothing more considered worth adding.
I don't want to become like this. I don't, i don't, i don't..........
Saturday, March 17, 2007
After more than half a decade of battling with my chronic condition, with no signs of long-lasting remission even when on the final-line drugs, i am at my wit's end. Unlike most people who would try various modalities of treatment before turning to conventional medicine in desperation, I have always placed a lot of faith in modern Western medicine since the outset. However, i was led through an expensive and unproductive journey and now standing at the end of it, i am forced to admit that conventional medicine has failed me. I am of course referring to my highly treatment-resistant acne vulgaris, which has plagued me since the age of 14.
The major treatment modalities of acne vulgaris is based on 2 broad concepts: Killing the bacteria which cause the inflammation and modifying the skin environment to prevent bacteria growth. Bacteria killing drugs range from over-the-counter medications such as benzoyl peroxide to antibiotics, topical and systemic. While i do not have much experience with OTC medications, I certainly have a long and illustrious history with antibiotic therapy. So far, i have taken antibiotics of every class except the penicillins as i am allergic to amoxycillin. The antibiotics i have taken for acne is probably enough to save England from the Black Death 3 times over. The course of antibiotic treatment is typically as follows: Great improvement in the first week, with pimples literally withering away. By the end of the 2nd week, however, new pimples would have begun to form and by the by the end of the 3rd week, my face would once again be densely colonised with pimples which are oblivious to the pills i pop. The occurrance of drug resistance is certainly a very real and scary problem.
Retinoids are Vitamin A derivatives, and are the other arm of pharmacologic treatment of acne. Basically they reduce comedone and sebum formation, reducing the hospitality of the skin for acne bacteria. Topical retinoids seem to be slightly effective for me, though it may well be totally useless but i do not dare to try stopping it in fear of worsening an already bad situation. However, the final line oral retinoid Isotretinoin works miracles for my skin. It totally nukes out acne completely within a month of treatment, with minimal side effects at optimal doses. There is a risk of depression and liver dysfunction, though, precluding its long-term use in acne control. 70% of patients taking Isotretinoin never have a relapse after treatment ends: as for me the acne returns effortlessly after a month of stopping treatment. I can almost hear the acne say "the conditions are right again, let's move back to stay here!"
Looks like it is time to take a step back in terms of my scientific enlightenment and seek out less recognised treatment modalities. Chinese medicine would be a good start, and if that fails i will move on to beauticians with their masks and face peels. If i get really desperate, i may even resort to religion, praying to various deities for some kind of miracle cure.
The major treatment modalities of acne vulgaris is based on 2 broad concepts: Killing the bacteria which cause the inflammation and modifying the skin environment to prevent bacteria growth. Bacteria killing drugs range from over-the-counter medications such as benzoyl peroxide to antibiotics, topical and systemic. While i do not have much experience with OTC medications, I certainly have a long and illustrious history with antibiotic therapy. So far, i have taken antibiotics of every class except the penicillins as i am allergic to amoxycillin. The antibiotics i have taken for acne is probably enough to save England from the Black Death 3 times over. The course of antibiotic treatment is typically as follows: Great improvement in the first week, with pimples literally withering away. By the end of the 2nd week, however, new pimples would have begun to form and by the by the end of the 3rd week, my face would once again be densely colonised with pimples which are oblivious to the pills i pop. The occurrance of drug resistance is certainly a very real and scary problem.
Retinoids are Vitamin A derivatives, and are the other arm of pharmacologic treatment of acne. Basically they reduce comedone and sebum formation, reducing the hospitality of the skin for acne bacteria. Topical retinoids seem to be slightly effective for me, though it may well be totally useless but i do not dare to try stopping it in fear of worsening an already bad situation. However, the final line oral retinoid Isotretinoin works miracles for my skin. It totally nukes out acne completely within a month of treatment, with minimal side effects at optimal doses. There is a risk of depression and liver dysfunction, though, precluding its long-term use in acne control. 70% of patients taking Isotretinoin never have a relapse after treatment ends: as for me the acne returns effortlessly after a month of stopping treatment. I can almost hear the acne say "the conditions are right again, let's move back to stay here!"
Looks like it is time to take a step back in terms of my scientific enlightenment and seek out less recognised treatment modalities. Chinese medicine would be a good start, and if that fails i will move on to beauticians with their masks and face peels. If i get really desperate, i may even resort to religion, praying to various deities for some kind of miracle cure.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
You know your life is pretty sad when you start referring to a weekend as "the holidays"... At least family medicine should be reasonably relaxed.
Went on an overnight cycling trip, all the way from 9pm on Saturday to 6:30am on Sunday morning. It was organised by Huilin, who asked a lot of people but there were only 6 of us in the end. Actually that's quite a optimal number as too many people would present a logistical nightmare, with the safety issues and varying levels of experience, not to mention the numerous indian chiefs. It wasn't exactly the longest trip i've made, with the furthest point being Seletar Airport, but it was certainly a fun experience. You get a different perspective visiting some places of Singapore on a bicycle instead of a car, and the last time i made an overnight trip was about a year ago. Really admired those people cycling with crappy bikes (especially the rental ones). It must have been a much more trying experience for them, and it made me feel like a cheater to be using my reliable, branded bicycle. In all it was a good trip, with everyone returning safely and none the worse for the experience. I wonder if we would have time to do these sort of things in our near future.
I got a free webcam from Creative, the one which they offered for every subscription for Wireless@SG. Its resolution is only 320x240, the picture quality isn't the best and it looks strangely like a roll of camera film, but hey, it works and it's free.
Went on an overnight cycling trip, all the way from 9pm on Saturday to 6:30am on Sunday morning. It was organised by Huilin, who asked a lot of people but there were only 6 of us in the end. Actually that's quite a optimal number as too many people would present a logistical nightmare, with the safety issues and varying levels of experience, not to mention the numerous indian chiefs. It wasn't exactly the longest trip i've made, with the furthest point being Seletar Airport, but it was certainly a fun experience. You get a different perspective visiting some places of Singapore on a bicycle instead of a car, and the last time i made an overnight trip was about a year ago. Really admired those people cycling with crappy bikes (especially the rental ones). It must have been a much more trying experience for them, and it made me feel like a cheater to be using my reliable, branded bicycle. In all it was a good trip, with everyone returning safely and none the worse for the experience. I wonder if we would have time to do these sort of things in our near future.
I got a free webcam from Creative, the one which they offered for every subscription for Wireless@SG. Its resolution is only 320x240, the picture quality isn't the best and it looks strangely like a roll of camera film, but hey, it works and it's free.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Moral of the day: Do not switch on your webcam window simultaneously on MSN for your girlfriend and your guy friend, lest your girlfriend thinks you're pointing your middle finger at her and your guy friend thinks you're trying to be gay.
Ugh...
Ugh...
Friday, March 09, 2007
Case scenario: You ordered some food from a hawker centre/eatery in shopping mall/posh restaurant in five-star hotel. You have just begun to tuck in when your sharp eyes catch sight of a hair sticking out of your food. Let's not mention what type of hair it is. What would you do?
Hawker centre (< $5): You fish out the hair with your chopsticks and scrape it onto the side of your plate, then continue your meal.
Shopping mall establishment ($10 - $20): You call the waiter over and point out the hair in your food, commenting on its implication on hygiene standards. Waiter offers to exchange another plate. Accept the offer reluctantly. Manager comes to serve another plate personally. Accept the apologies.
Posh restaurant (> $50): Summon the waiter over, and ask him to summon the manager. When manager arrives, express dismay and consternation at the utter lack of hygiene as demonstrated by the hair in your food. Manager apologises, and offer to replace your plate. Refuse, and ramble on about how you expected different from an establishment of their reputation, and how the press and Ministry of Environment would be interested to conduct investigations had they known of this. Speak louder so that you get the attention of the tables around you. Manager, by now a bit panicky, offers to cut the price of your meal. If the discount is below 50%, accuse them of being insincere and declare that "money is not the issue". If above 50%, accept the offer after appearing to undergo a great moral struggle, and let them know in no uncertain terms your magnanimity in letting the matter rest so easily.
The more you pay for the meal, the more you can expect, and the more you can demand as compensation if your expectations are not met. Try the "posh resturant" tactic at a hawker centre stall, and you'll probably get laughed in your face and told something like "siao ah... kao beh kao bu. Not even cockroach. Got hair cos weather hot and i wear singlet wat, dun wan go atas restaurant lah!"
Hawker centre (< $5): You fish out the hair with your chopsticks and scrape it onto the side of your plate, then continue your meal.
Shopping mall establishment ($10 - $20): You call the waiter over and point out the hair in your food, commenting on its implication on hygiene standards. Waiter offers to exchange another plate. Accept the offer reluctantly. Manager comes to serve another plate personally. Accept the apologies.
Posh restaurant (> $50): Summon the waiter over, and ask him to summon the manager. When manager arrives, express dismay and consternation at the utter lack of hygiene as demonstrated by the hair in your food. Manager apologises, and offer to replace your plate. Refuse, and ramble on about how you expected different from an establishment of their reputation, and how the press and Ministry of Environment would be interested to conduct investigations had they known of this. Speak louder so that you get the attention of the tables around you. Manager, by now a bit panicky, offers to cut the price of your meal. If the discount is below 50%, accuse them of being insincere and declare that "money is not the issue". If above 50%, accept the offer after appearing to undergo a great moral struggle, and let them know in no uncertain terms your magnanimity in letting the matter rest so easily.
The more you pay for the meal, the more you can expect, and the more you can demand as compensation if your expectations are not met. Try the "posh resturant" tactic at a hawker centre stall, and you'll probably get laughed in your face and told something like "siao ah... kao beh kao bu. Not even cockroach. Got hair cos weather hot and i wear singlet wat, dun wan go atas restaurant lah!"
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
When i study for exams, there will be some topics i end up knowing everything about, some which i know enough to get by, and those which refuse to stick in my memory no matter how many times i read, go through mentally, repeat aloud. It's just like trying to stick a Post-It note on my nose: it's fascinating how that simply does not work. There seems to be little indication which topics would be afflicted with this curse of amnesia. How could i have predicted that i would not remember much regarding lipid-lowering drugs, or thyroid drugs, or anti-arrhythmic drugs (ok, don't think anyone can recall much of this one)? After the 4th time of trying to remember the adverse effects of fibrates and anti-thyroid drugs (and failing), i decided that was it. Maybe i can never remember those because i have ESP which allows me to have a particularly close affinity with topics which are tested. In that case, i cannot remember certain topics because they are not going to come out for my exams. It was 8:57am then and with that comforting (delusional?) thought in mind i strode into the exam hall with ease and confidence.
And as it turned out, NONE of the 6 essay questions was regarding the topics in my "range of amnesia". 1 question i could answer with my eyes closed, having answered the exact same thing in different phrasings at least 2 times previously. 3 questions were on familiar "safe territory", having enough information tucked in my brain to write quite a bit about. As for the last 2, my knowledge was shaky but what i knew was still sufficient for me to appear competent in the topic, that is if the marker overlooks the well-crafted space-fillers spacing out the real facts. MCQs were harder than i expected but still doable. I was more aggressive in answering this time though, leaving only 11 blanks when usually i leave twice that amount. Hope that doesn't come back to haunt me.
Kinda lucked out on my pharmaco, had matters been different my situation would have been a whole lot worse. How, here's hoping luck would stay with me till noon on friday... And note to self: Having ESP on what topics are going to be tested does NOT equal to studying only the topics i like and praying they will come out.
And as it turned out, NONE of the 6 essay questions was regarding the topics in my "range of amnesia". 1 question i could answer with my eyes closed, having answered the exact same thing in different phrasings at least 2 times previously. 3 questions were on familiar "safe territory", having enough information tucked in my brain to write quite a bit about. As for the last 2, my knowledge was shaky but what i knew was still sufficient for me to appear competent in the topic, that is if the marker overlooks the well-crafted space-fillers spacing out the real facts. MCQs were harder than i expected but still doable. I was more aggressive in answering this time though, leaving only 11 blanks when usually i leave twice that amount. Hope that doesn't come back to haunt me.
Kinda lucked out on my pharmaco, had matters been different my situation would have been a whole lot worse. How, here's hoping luck would stay with me till noon on friday... And note to self: Having ESP on what topics are going to be tested does NOT equal to studying only the topics i like and praying they will come out.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
I so do have to get my priorities right. At this time, it should be study, social life, and leisure, in this order, and not the other way round.
Talking about social life, I remember in the gatherings with my sec sch friends we had talked about the "drifters", ex-classmates who had virtually cut off all contact with the rest of us, not replying to the usual modes of communication such as emails or SMSes. Now, i realise that i have become one of these "drifters" myself, probably mentioned once at every gathering and dismissed with a "I wonder what he's up to?" And what would prompt me to embark on such a path? Diverging interests, impenetrable cliques, lack of opportunity and a certain jadedness with human relationships. It's like the winter has come and you're too tired to start a new fire or rekindle dying embers and you're just content to lie down and let the snow cover you like a white blanket and take you home.
Talking about social life, I remember in the gatherings with my sec sch friends we had talked about the "drifters", ex-classmates who had virtually cut off all contact with the rest of us, not replying to the usual modes of communication such as emails or SMSes. Now, i realise that i have become one of these "drifters" myself, probably mentioned once at every gathering and dismissed with a "I wonder what he's up to?" And what would prompt me to embark on such a path? Diverging interests, impenetrable cliques, lack of opportunity and a certain jadedness with human relationships. It's like the winter has come and you're too tired to start a new fire or rekindle dying embers and you're just content to lie down and let the snow cover you like a white blanket and take you home.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
The past week has been spent going door to door, trying to persuade residents to answer a tedious survey on dengue prevention and hopefully contribute a saliva sample. We were prepared for unhappiness amongst some residents and a certain percentage of rejection, but nothing could prepare us for some of ways in which we were rejected:
Scenario 1: The Hider
Some would simply refuse to acknowledge your presence. You hear noises inside the unit before u press the doorbell, and once you press it all noises die down. By protocol that's a "non-response" and not a refusal, and you will have to return to try again for 2 more times before getting a replacement unit. If they refused outright, it would simply be a refusal and no replacement is needed. So basically, the bastards inside are too mean to help you out, but do not have the guts to tell you straight in the face, thus giving you more work to do. Typical of Singaporeans.
Scenario 2: The Hinter
Similar to scenario 1, but these people do not bother to hide themselves. Instead, they increase the noise they make when u knock, letting you know in no uncertain terms that yes, they're at home and no, they're not going to answer the door. They probably think it's considerate to let you know that someone is in so that you will not return later to try again, but sorry ma'am, that can't count as a refusal. Fortunately, these people tend to have a shorter fuse than the Hiders described above. 5 minutes of incessant knocking (or better, doorbell ringing) will usually wear down their resistance and cause them to scream at you to get lost. And yes, they do it through the door, not having the guts to say it in your face. But at least that can be counted as a rejection.
Scenario 3: The "Come-again-so-that-I-have-the-chance-to-hide"
A much more sinister version of a Hider, these seem like ordinary people when you first encounter them. They'll have a perfectly understandable reason for not wanting to answer your survey on the spot, perhaps "I'm feeling sick" or "I've to go and fetch my child soon". Thus, reasonable person you are, you would naturally inquire as to a convenient time for you to come again. Somehow, the time given would always require you modify your schedule and make a special trip down, but since this nice woman is already helping you, what's a bit of sacrifice on your part? So obediently you come again at the agreed time, knock, and... nothing. No one is at home... It seems. If you're really lucky, you may catch some noise within before you knock. The time which they gave you was their going out time, or "no answering the door" time. BEWARE THESE PEOPLE. Warning signs include female (honestly i'm not being sexist here) and telling you to return on a different day.
Scenario 4: The Paranoid
These people are perpetually shrouded in fear. Once you convince them that you are not here to take their lives or property by force, their next logical conclusion would be that you are intending to cheat them with words. Everything about you and your study would be subjected to close scrutiny by these amateur Sherlocks. Why is the participant information sheet so long and confusing? Why must they sign before answering a survey? The most insightful question from a Paranoid which left me speechless was, "If you're really from NUS, why are the NUS letterheads on these forms photocopied?" Because, sir, we need 800 copies of these forms, and no one is willing to pay for 800 high-quality paper, gold-print letterheads. You can recognise a Paranoid by this trademark statement: "I'll answer your questions, but i will not put anything on paper!" An encounter with a Paranoid has a significantly better prognosis than those above, however, as once you manage to persuade them to sign the consent form (which may take up to 10min), they are generally agreeable to the survey. However, don't even bother trying to ask for a saliva sample. An overwhelming majority of Paranoids are male.
Scenario 5: The Dramatic
Ah... These come in many guises, and frequently becomes the talking points of disgruntled, or amused surveyors. From those who worry about the sponge of the saliva collection tube being poisoned and insisting to spit into the tube instead (a variant of the Paranoid), to those who keep staring at you through the peephole of their door, to those who seem high on some drug, to those who refuse to answer the door when u knock gently, and scream at you for being rude when you knock louder. Sometimes you manage to get the survey and saliva sample in the end, though more often not, but you will definitely end up with an interesting tale to share with the rest.
Of course there are the helpful, pleasant people, those who invite you into their house (which i make a point to never refuse, though it will slow the process down) and even get you a drink. Given the length of the survey, i suppose everyone who responds should be placed within this group. These people are those who lifts your weary spirits and bring you closer to your target, and thankfully there are just enough of them scattered around to neutralise all the screamings and door-slammings and no-shows which you inevitably got to endure.
Scenario 1: The Hider
Some would simply refuse to acknowledge your presence. You hear noises inside the unit before u press the doorbell, and once you press it all noises die down. By protocol that's a "non-response" and not a refusal, and you will have to return to try again for 2 more times before getting a replacement unit. If they refused outright, it would simply be a refusal and no replacement is needed. So basically, the bastards inside are too mean to help you out, but do not have the guts to tell you straight in the face, thus giving you more work to do. Typical of Singaporeans.
Scenario 2: The Hinter
Similar to scenario 1, but these people do not bother to hide themselves. Instead, they increase the noise they make when u knock, letting you know in no uncertain terms that yes, they're at home and no, they're not going to answer the door. They probably think it's considerate to let you know that someone is in so that you will not return later to try again, but sorry ma'am, that can't count as a refusal. Fortunately, these people tend to have a shorter fuse than the Hiders described above. 5 minutes of incessant knocking (or better, doorbell ringing) will usually wear down their resistance and cause them to scream at you to get lost. And yes, they do it through the door, not having the guts to say it in your face. But at least that can be counted as a rejection.
Scenario 3: The "Come-again-so-that-I-have-the-chance-to-hide"
A much more sinister version of a Hider, these seem like ordinary people when you first encounter them. They'll have a perfectly understandable reason for not wanting to answer your survey on the spot, perhaps "I'm feeling sick" or "I've to go and fetch my child soon". Thus, reasonable person you are, you would naturally inquire as to a convenient time for you to come again. Somehow, the time given would always require you modify your schedule and make a special trip down, but since this nice woman is already helping you, what's a bit of sacrifice on your part? So obediently you come again at the agreed time, knock, and... nothing. No one is at home... It seems. If you're really lucky, you may catch some noise within before you knock. The time which they gave you was their going out time, or "no answering the door" time. BEWARE THESE PEOPLE. Warning signs include female (honestly i'm not being sexist here) and telling you to return on a different day.
Scenario 4: The Paranoid
These people are perpetually shrouded in fear. Once you convince them that you are not here to take their lives or property by force, their next logical conclusion would be that you are intending to cheat them with words. Everything about you and your study would be subjected to close scrutiny by these amateur Sherlocks. Why is the participant information sheet so long and confusing? Why must they sign before answering a survey? The most insightful question from a Paranoid which left me speechless was, "If you're really from NUS, why are the NUS letterheads on these forms photocopied?" Because, sir, we need 800 copies of these forms, and no one is willing to pay for 800 high-quality paper, gold-print letterheads. You can recognise a Paranoid by this trademark statement: "I'll answer your questions, but i will not put anything on paper!" An encounter with a Paranoid has a significantly better prognosis than those above, however, as once you manage to persuade them to sign the consent form (which may take up to 10min), they are generally agreeable to the survey. However, don't even bother trying to ask for a saliva sample. An overwhelming majority of Paranoids are male.
Scenario 5: The Dramatic
Ah... These come in many guises, and frequently becomes the talking points of disgruntled, or amused surveyors. From those who worry about the sponge of the saliva collection tube being poisoned and insisting to spit into the tube instead (a variant of the Paranoid), to those who keep staring at you through the peephole of their door, to those who seem high on some drug, to those who refuse to answer the door when u knock gently, and scream at you for being rude when you knock louder. Sometimes you manage to get the survey and saliva sample in the end, though more often not, but you will definitely end up with an interesting tale to share with the rest.
Of course there are the helpful, pleasant people, those who invite you into their house (which i make a point to never refuse, though it will slow the process down) and even get you a drink. Given the length of the survey, i suppose everyone who responds should be placed within this group. These people are those who lifts your weary spirits and bring you closer to your target, and thankfully there are just enough of them scattered around to neutralise all the screamings and door-slammings and no-shows which you inevitably got to endure.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Two of my greatest flaws are seemingly contradictory: The inability to be satisfied with what i currently have and the reluctance to take steps to change an unsatisfactory situation. Having only one of the two would be a stumbling block but in no way crippling - either i jump off to greener pastures at the slightest opportunity or i try to make the best of my current situation without making any overhauls. But with both flaws, i am stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place. If i feel that a change is necessary, is it really true or it is just that i will be never happy with what i have? If i don't feel that a change is necessary, is it because i acknowledge my first flaw or that my second flaw causes too much inertia for me to make the necessary change? Gosh this is getting so deep i'm starting to lose myself even.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
In the years to come, ex-CEO of NKF T T Durai will be remembered as the ultimate villain, the demon incarnate who single-handedly swallowed up millions of dollars with his lavish lifestyle. Since the money was swallowed up with such complete subtlety that not a trace showed in the building, it is natural that his board of directors would be completely oblivious to his actions, as long as their own paychecks and bonuses are of satisfactory magnitude. Of course, since positions such as "chairman", "vice-chairman" and "treasurer" actually mean nothing in any organisation, Durai's directors would be powerless to take any action even if they were aware of his abuses. And of course, poor Mr. Khaw Boon Wan must be totally appalled when the news came out that Durai had a salary which was almost comparable to his own. If he had known, obviously his ministry would not have renewed NKF's IPC status. But at that time, there was no need for him to find out, was there? Not as long as NKF's bank balance was in the black and the government was absolved of any responsibility to support renal patients. How could a charity whose reserves and "profits" are expanding by the year, thanks to elaborately tear-jerking fundraisers, possibly do any wrong? The entire scandal was orchestrated by one truly diabolical person, and not only the public, but NKF's directors and the government were all unwitting victims. It's just like the Holocaust, of which Hitler was the sole perpetuator who somehow possessed an entire country of people to support his ideology and carry out his biddings.
The need for villains in a society is as basic and deep-seated as the need for heroes. Villains provide a tangible outlet for the public to vent its collective fury, as it is much easier to string up and stone an individual than it would be for an organisation or system. And of course, it is less messy for one person to sink with all the blame than to drag many others down with it. So Durai would be dying (metaphorically put), not only for his own sins, but the sins of others. Kinda reminds me of Jesus, except he's probably not doing it out of his own free will. Hmmm
The need for villains in a society is as basic and deep-seated as the need for heroes. Villains provide a tangible outlet for the public to vent its collective fury, as it is much easier to string up and stone an individual than it would be for an organisation or system. And of course, it is less messy for one person to sink with all the blame than to drag many others down with it. So Durai would be dying (metaphorically put), not only for his own sins, but the sins of others. Kinda reminds me of Jesus, except he's probably not doing it out of his own free will. Hmmm
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