So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened. (Why the beginning? )

‘Hey doctor, did you forget to change your face mask?’ Our nurse in charge stopped me before hopping from one cubicle to another cubicle to see COVID patients. ‘Oh, sorry’, I replied immediately, laughing at my forgetfulness. Remembering the time, in the midst of a pandemic when I splashed water in my face without realising I had a mask on.

It is February 28th/2023 today and ‘No, COVID hasn’t gone away yet’. But as I have claimed before, it isn’t as intimidating as it used to be. Juggling your memory again, ‘remember that time? December 2019? When city of Wuhan in China first went into lock down to control the deadly virus from spreading elsewhere.’

I started writing amidst of pandemic waves. Overtime I have talked about lots of things. The beginning of all these parrot tale was a silly story which I have mentioned before. Basically I had a dream. I don’t remember the details of it now, but I do recall ‘sort of being instructed to write’ and ‘sort of being introduced to this title’ and, ‘feeling good about scribbling something in my dream that I have no clue what it was.’ The memory of it is all vague, it has been more than a year. But I do remember mentioning to my ex saying, ‘I feel like I need to write about this, about this pandemic’, that morning. I don’t know if he has any recollection of it. People have all sort of dreams. My friend mentioned once she had a dream where she was a flying ninja fighting crime in the city. Like who sees that? Is that normal? Something about this one though, it planted a sincere and undying motivation, almost like a promise to myself, to sit in front of laptop and start hitting the keys every chance I get, no matter how tired or lazy I felt. I didn’t know where to start but I had to. Am I religious? I don’t know. Is there God? I believe there is. In that case, do I think it’s God’s message then? Certainly not, I wouldn’t go that far. Bonkers! Experts believe, ‘dreams are revelations of your subconscious minds.’ Maybe, somehow I found a way to tap into mine that night.

It was a work at first. I didn’t want to jot the bleak situation of hospital capacities, circumstances of deaths with the virus infection, forlorn eyes of mourning individuals, resentful words of grief stricken families, hateful comments with racial slurs, fears for own health & families safety and physical/emotional burnouts; but those were the realities. Re-living the emotional experience whilst writing when I could push it and shove it down, like an adult, never to be spoken about; may have been an option but I chose not to do so. 12- 13 posts down the line, writing became more easier, sort of a way of venting to express myself and I suppose at that point, it started becoming a selfish endeavour to save myself.

My intention in some ways was also to give ‘the readers’, a peek of life of a medic. A glimpse away to lives inside hospital walls, the ups and downs we face in our career living up to our responsibilities and in our personal lives; in a hope that you see these individuals not just as a professionals but also as a son or a daughter, your friend or your colleague, your uncles or aunts or your father or mother. That you are kind to them. ‘Yes every profession deserves a kindness’, I am not here requesting any more ‘just at a level you would give any individual at your standing.’ The world seems to have forgotten that as a medic in our profession, ‘we deserve some humility and respect too’.

‘No, it is not right that you curse the nurse in front of zillion other patients when she is not answering your call. She is looking after 9 more patients on her own and, is currently on a drug round. ‘

‘Yes, he does have right to not forgive you after the temper tantrum you have shown for your quote *had a bad sleep*’.

‘We do have every right to refuse to treat you as a doctor as you have a right to be refused being treated by us’.

‘Please cover yourself. It is basic human decency. Not to flash your breasts or penises when we are specifically not examining those parts’.

‘We will attend you, however there are long list of patients waiting before you, unless it is a life threatening emergency. We need not tolerate emotional or physical intimidation because you want to jump the queue’.

And most importantly. ‘No you do not get any excuse to rain down on another individual just because you are sad, lonely, angry or in pain.‘ Would you have tolerated it, if it happened to you in your profession? Why are we any different?

I ask you, would you kindly see me or my colleagues beyond our stethescope on our necks and our badges reading ‘doctors’ and accept us like any other individuals in society with running clocks of our own private lives? Just as you? We are men and women in careers, each one of us with our own personalities and a background of running commentary. Would you see us as humans too? Yes we have certainly adapted to restraining our emotions but we still feel. Your expressions whether its happiness or anger, affects our days. At the end of the day, we do take a lot of emotions back to our homes. We do need a period to switch off, unwind, hit the power button and recaliberate ourselves. It is not fair to be expected to be available 24/7 like movie industries portrays our commitment to profession should be like. It is not fashionable, as it seems. Please don’t expect us to stay another hour individually for your service especially to vent about receiving minimal service and threatening to leave.

The number of hospital admission have sky rocketed compared to 10 years ago in the NHS, I am sure so is the case all around the world. Quality of life has improved on various domains of people’s lives including work environment but I am not sure if that has been the case in our profession. My seniors could argue ‘our lives is much better now’ but, that would be like me arguing ‘quality of children’s lives is much better now’. Children now don’t even know if they are humans or goats. And schools are entertaining drag shows to kindergartners. Look where we are standing in human history.

On 13th March, Doctors in England are doing a 72 hour mass walk out as an industrial action for pay restoration. In the past, I had commented in my post that doctors and nurses were being paid less in significant percentage than they were being paid in these profession, years prior. My phone is blinking continuously now from constant messages posted on junior doctor’s forums, mainly sharing information from different trusts that are releasing intimidating messages to their employees suggesting their will be consequences for their actions. Disciplinary actions, loss of pays. So, everyone including me who has just joined a new hospital in a new rotation are basically sitting on hot seats now.

I came across a very interesting post on tiktok. (Oh yes, since I have returned from Nepal. Now I have started using tiktok. hahahaha). The post (Huw Corness) on 02/Jan 2023 reads ‘When I qualified as a nurse in 2010 my basic hourly wage was £10.83 and freddos were 10p so I was paid 108 freddos an hour. The nurses who qualify now start on £13.84 an hour and freddos are 25p so they are paid 55 freddos an hour’. I hope this gives you some idea of why it is necessary to stand in unity for support. Not to forget, our profession undoubtedly is a big chunk where tax revenue comes from.

You don’t have to necessarily support the cause. I will agree there are plenty jobs which deserves more limelight than us. That I have utmost respect for. But I hope, you will keep in mind when you enter the hospital premises next time that these are the professionals that are trying their best to their jobs, to provide you with help that you came seeking for, at their doors. You are not a prisoner unless of course you were brought in handcuffs by the police. As much as we treat you individually and with respect, please’ remember to reciprocate.

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened. (Bye bye 2022. With love. Part 6)

There was a time when thinking about attending social functions like dinner, birthday parties, weddings; I had to gauge ‘is it worth it for the loss of my day for laundry, netflix and personal time.  Should I catch up on my sleep till late morning or make arrangements for the trip? Would the day be better spent catching up to my emails? Darn, my exam is only a few weeks away. I feel quite tired, I don’t think I will be able to enjoy it even if I made a show.’  Only a few absolutes were in my list that I wouldn’t allow myself to talk out of; everything else was secondary to the job/career. No thoughts were involved. ‘Thinking, then overthinking’ that was a downhill slope I was trying to avoid. 

A friend of mine who has been back to training from her career break went awol on us for a few days recently on whatsapp. Very unlike her. When we caught up, she said, she felt she was starting to experience burn out again. Good thing is, she was recognising the signs early. We didn’t mind. Amongst us, all of us have been in that place. Where we are trying to focus just on the task forward, a step at a time, everyone else & everything else will have to wait for us to have that space. The other said, she has been assessed. Would need at least 16-24 private sessions with psych to help her through it ‘depression and burnouts’. 60£ an hour. ‘Nhs waiting list is long. I had to go private. But even if it is around 1K, which will be more expensive with additional sessions, I don’t have the time’. All of us knew it was going to be hard when we entered the profession. All of us felt it would be manageable. Sometimes, it’s evidently proving more difficult than we expected. I feel blessed to have this support network of friends in the same profession as I am. Someone to speak our minds clearly with, someone who understands when one of us quotes, ‘I just feel bitter sometimes. Sometimes I feel I hate my job’. 

 ‘Easy things that I shouldn’t even be stressing about like the thought of waking early and not being on time for work stresses me out,’ my roommate said. ‘Even in my dreams I am chasing after the bus. I feel sad at the thought of it.’ Again, I can completely relate to her. Sometimes I wake up from sleep having heard the oncall bleep go off, at home, when I am off duty! Sharing  experiences like that to one another, trust me, earns you good long term friends. If you haven’t yet found it, there you go. One of the main advantages of our profession. I am soon going to be a bridesmaid for a beautiful bride-to-be, who I met first as colleague 5 years ago, 2 hospital jobs prior. 

Lots of lives changed due to the pandemic. In many ways mine too. I feel like, had it not pushed me to the edge, I would have still been a foolhardy person trying day & night to soak up all the stress, suppress all the frustrations and continue. I would have tried to put on a brave face as well and signed up to more hospital  training for ‘resilience, time management, working under stressful environment’ perhaps while losing internal integrity of myself. We all have read, friends of the deceased say ‘we didn’t have a clue. He was always on time, smiling and cheerful at work’. There are always subtle hints, I think, but we are too busy looking more into them.

I completely unrooted myself from one country to integrate into the society of a different country, navigating through my life while accepting English will be my tongue from here forward. In a profession of learned and intellectual individuals with graduates from Oxford, Harvard  when language fails, it is hard to avoid the first judgement. Inevitable, I would say. ‘So we push ourselves way harder, maybe to prove our worth’ I seem to agree with Dr Gabor Mate on this. Confidence overtime feels dimming down slowly, trying to fit in, in all the boxes.

I don’t think it was ever about resilience; the world I have seen, things I have been through, the degree of patience I had to have to be here where I am. I know the word very well. I have pinned the main issue  now; for me problem was  losing my head space to think, feeling trapped in a continuum and losing my own identity. Coming from a family where my parents were; farmers then into the military, trust me when I said ‘I am stressed’ I was swallowing my pride asking for that help. I wouldn’t have. If I hadn’t realised, everything that was inside me was manifesting around me. I think the pandemic did do me a big favor in that sense. And looking back I only take that experience as a big learning phase about finding myself. As my friend did, I am now able to recognise the early signs.

Of course, NHS is ever so busy. And the job is stressful as 99% of my colleagues would agree. Here is the catch, hadn’t it been so stressful, would everyone around us not have pursued it? What I mean when I say it, being an eye opener, was finding out where my limit of stress tolerance was, what are the red lights for me, what do I need to watch out from here forward? And having been through it now, what could I have done, what can be done to avoid similar in future. 

I managed to get the support I needed from my superiors and the training programme director in time. This is why choosing a region to train was very important to me and I advise, should be the main thing a graduate should be looking into. I doubt if I was a trainee in the West Midlands, I would have got the same level of help. With a lot of trainees deferring themselves from the system, hospital trusts are trying to be more accommodating now to trainee’s needs but it often seems to be optional, not necessarily the case with the system being in pressure to run 24/7. Nevertheless I would advise, please reach out, one would never know where and what help you can get unless you ask. Hopefully you will at least find someone to signpost you.

My returning objective now back to work and to training  is to protect my headspace at any cost. Of course to pass the exam, pass the year but also to aim to completely segregate my professional from personal life. It can be difficult, unfortunately we are not computers to hit the refresh button, but knowing this is a ‘must to do’ is helpful.  One thing I have done to secure this is, I am returning back as a trainee at 80% part time. 20% ‘out’ is to work on my personal goals. I am a person outside of my career with lots of roles; as a daughter, a sister, a friend, a girlfriend, a neighbor. To have what I want to keep while making sure I maintain at top of my productivity, cutting down on my hours was a necessary sacrifice. Particularly because this is also the time I have chosen to work on being a better version of me. Carve out those gaps that makes me feel insecure about myself. Like culinary skills. I may not become a chef but at least be able to cook a few healthy lunches/dinners to invite friends over right? Instead of ordering takeaways every time? How am I Nepalese without knowing how to make dumplings? Definitely, this year I will be investing in driving.  Then I could just drive myself anywhere, take myself to beaches, sightseeing, for the long drives, my family to picnic, road trips.  Moving around and packing my life into boxes wouldn’t be so much hassle anymore. And then there are lots of travel plans. 

I follow Jim Rohn’s motivational speeches on various topics relating to achieving success and living a better life on Youtube. The man speaks of nothing but golden words. Even his random utterance is probably worth a thousand dollar bill for commoners like me, filled with life changing advice. Just the other day I was tuned to one of his videos where I heard him say, ‘the major question to ask on a job is not what are you getting but what you are becoming?’  ‘Focus on your personal development. The major key to your better future is you’. He had emphasised.  ‘Work on your attitude, philosophy, personality, language, gift of communication, work on all your abilities’. 

There are hours of brilliant speeches out there from him. Here are other quotes from his talk called ‘Recharge your mind’, that I have copied here which I will use as mantras to guide my future.

‘You can’t change the winters, you can’t change the seasons but you can change yourself. You can get wiser, stronger and better’. 

‘Learn to take advantage of the spring. You got to seize it with your own two hands. There is a sense of urgency here. Don’t waste your springs, don’t just let them pass, pass, pass hoping time will pass.’ 

‘And in summer learn to protect, nourish and to do battles with your enemies. Some of the enemies are outside, some of them are inside’. 

I feel confident about continuing to sail my life to a positive direction. No babies in the plan for another year, no rings in the finger, paying salary, yeah I can buy myself flowers… I feel more accepting of myself ‘as a whole’. I appreciate the concoction I have become with fusion of both the worlds, absorbing best of the both countries across the globe. I don’t feel threatened anymore thinking my uniqueness as my weakness, like my ex used to say ‘exotic’, I have discovered in my eccentricity there is in fact power. Overall standing here in 2023,  the picture forward looks amazing. This is definitely a year for me, to march forward and conquer. Be the queen I was born to be.

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened. (Bye bye 2022. With love. Part 5)

So, I had a chance to visit Nepal during my 6 month break. The trip was short but had an amazing time. Met family and friends, went around for small trips to my favorite places. Good to know those places hadn’t changed much, kind of gives a stability to one’s memories for flashbacks. Like saying, ‘remember Mangalbazar where we used to sit down around durbar square for local tea? Yeah let’s go there’. Had momos ‘nepalese dumplings’. Lots of them everyday as much as I could. Anything else could wait another year or so if I didn’t get to stuff in this time! Cousins and related brothers & sisters had all grown up. Most of them were taller than me, some of them I couldn’t even recognise at first instance. Boys were all husky & hoarse with one or two sprouts of beard and moustache here and there. As for most mongolian asian men, that will be the most any of them will grow. But Omg their skins were clearer than mine! Girls that were once very much tomboyish now were very feminine with curvy bodies, long hairs and nail polishes & acrylic paints. Made me laugh and almost choke on my food at a party when I heard one of those boys now training to compete for Gurkha recruitment saying to his other mates, who are also his cousins, about the girls he was interested in. A couple of them! Particularly one he wished to court around to get attention and his plans for marrying her. Basically locking her into a relationship before going away! The way these boys think! Hahahaha. I am rooting for him but at the same time, a part of me also doesn’t want the girl to fall for him because I know where this route most often ends. Not uncommon for boys being head & heels in teens, jumping into marriage and then on his late 20’s or even 30’s sprouting other half of their brain; developing maturity and saying, ‘That was a foolish decision. We have nothing in common (after having children!). I have met the right woman now whom I want to marry’.  All good if he had the guts to come out open and be honest, but he thinks ‘as long as two women don’t meet’, he might be able to wing it off as long as it lasts. 2 wives in 2 different countries. Not just tragic for women, trust me, often tragic for men too.

Watched my girls all grown up, be adult women with their babies on laps. Got a ‘baby fever’, I think my hormones really got a good kick from my ovaries, protesting my stand against ‘overload of cuteness’ production. Feels like the instincts are kicking in now slowly, I didn’t think that would ever be the situation when I was growing up as a full fledged tomboy. Only ever held babies by choice in the past couple of years. Before that, I always had excuses. Don’t know how I ever got through pediatric rotation staying at least a meter away from them. I guess the trick was, always to pair up with a colleague who had powerful maternal skills and let them handle the baby while you chatted to their parents, do the charts and other things. 

They are wonderful moms. It boosts up a slight confidence in me now observing them. They tell me they don’t know anything about taking care of him or her but it seems to me they are doing a fine job. A little panicky now and then, a little anxious but all fine. Each one of them married great partners, all of whom seem to be wonderful dads. Most of my girls  met their husbands in medical school, others while in training and one pair since high school. So, knowing their husbands as friends since when I was a teen myself is very reassuring. It was an even more wonderful feeling in a sense that not only did I watch my girls be mothers and take these roles as adults but, I also had the opportunity to see colleagues/ friends assume their roles as fathers. Those girls were crazy, innocent at the same time, smart but a little socially challenged compared to other girls our age. And we did oh so many many stupid things. Did many happy dances, had cold wars… The list goes on and on. School was fun, thanks to the girls. Didn’t matter how tough it was, we pulled each other, shared notes together, covered for each other’s absences and when we passed each year we celebrated hard. Our big celebration being, sitting down with a few bottles of alcohol, drinking and dancing. Locking down the main girls dorm so that none of the crazy hens got out in the middle of night. Sometimes we’d go out for fancy dinners burrowing eachothers clothes, each one of us working on the other’s hair straightening or curling it. Oh my friends are definitely still crazy!  They still got those eyes but now, they have learnt to camouflage it better. A part of me was a little worried, they might have changed, but nah! We just got more babies in the picture. 

A twang of mild jealousy sure! Genuinely very happy for them but reminded me of my own little heartbreaks, bites away from my self worth and began questioning each one of my decisions. Took some days to reevaluate where I stand and,  I have come to the conclusion that, ‘I am actually glad I did not achieve some of these milestones. I will reach there when I am meant to get there and honestly, I don’t feel ready now at all. I don’t doubt anymore I will make a good mother. The world feels a better place having met amazing new parents who are genuinely great humans’.

‘When I made those goals, I was young. I didn’t account for my circumstances, for the hurdles I was going to encounter, the faded lines of the lanes that would cross on one and the other, here and there. I didn’t account for the times I had to stop to rest, to redirect myself, to self-talk and to keep pushing forward. There is no reason for me to feel that way, my friends’ journeys are not mine. We had different beginnings, throughout lives we have different paths and we will have different endings. Had to knock my head a little to tell myself ‘Don’t be a loser like that. Jealous of your own friends? Did I hear you were a little jealous of your own ex as well? Why? No, no, don’t be one of those losers. Passing time gossiping about others, catching on each other’s legs. Don’t waste time like that. Be happy for them. Work on your own insecurities so, you don’t give yourself a reason to feel that way’. 

And that’s the thing. ‘Working on my insecurities.’ As I have confessed many times before, I felt, my mind was all fogged, jumbled in a mess. It was like a cluttered room where I collected one more thing, dumped it there and just closed the door behind. Anxious that the room existed, even more anxious at the idea of sorting it out. Being back in the place where I previously was, with my friends who are very much the same;  reminded me where I came from and who I was. It helps, doesn’t matter what the mess looks like or the extent of it, but to know where at least the start of the mess is, because all you then do is follow the string and untangle it slowly. I see the problems here, here and here. What can I do for the solutions? What is my priority? What am I willing to lose for what I have to gain? What is it that I want? 

It’s okay, if you don’t know what you want for yourself yet. I will advise you to follow a route, keep track, rather than being absent minded and being nowhere. At least that way, by rule of exclusion, you will know whether the route you are following is definitely what you want to pursue. Goal at the end is finding happiness. To each of us, our definition of happiness is very different.

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened. (Bye bye 2022. With love. Part 3)

8 months ago I started dating this guy who just swept me off my feet. 8 months later, I am without my savings and on a debt. Some I just paid and some will probably take a year to pay off. ‘He is just in a difficult place, he needs some help, some stability in his life so I need to help him’ I kept reasoning myself. And even though there were days  it was very difficult for me to truly accept him for how he is or believe his stories I pushed myself to do so. ‘Thats what a virtuous woman does, she sticks to her decisions and sees it through’. I ignored the small voice in my head constantly whispering  ‘this doesn’t feel right’ and turned blind eye to my sister & my friends warning ‘red flags!’. 

No-one seemed to be accepting of him. I assumed it was the ‘ex’ effect and that it would eventually go away. Both my siblings and friends were fond of my ex so I thought it wasn’t fair on him that he was’t getting any chance to prove himself. 

That day, it was cold and drizzling. I was walking around in a new city tired, hungry and frustrated searching flats to flats for a place to rent on my own. While I was getting to the station, my boyfriend called me. ‘Can you help me pay, my account didn’t work’ he said. A pay for a second time for the same course for which I had transferred him money yesterday? It wasn’t a big amount. But if you added to the amount that had been going out of my account to his since the time we started dating, it added to roughly 14-15k. 

If he had’t made me double pay couple of times before after having transferred him through money already, believing his account was playing up again, maybe I would have let it slide. But despite knowing I needed a month’s rent money in advance with security deposit pay and other fees like agents or moving fees; listening to him be very  invested in getting my money off me still? Was hurtful and insulting. 

I thought I saw him you know. For who he is. And I told myself, if I didn’t who would. I thought he was genuine and I felt it wasn’t fair that he had to put hold on to his ambitions and dreams due to some misfortunes. He said, he lost everything in his business. ‘He has potential, he just needs a chance’. He had no-one of his own to help and I didn’t want him to feel that way and spiral down to being a lost cause; he often said he would stating ‘he had nothing to live for’.  Don’t  have money, don’t have any power either but wanted to be helpful however I could.

More than a year rent of pay. Is it not enough for? I hoped it would buy him some mental peace and space to rethink his situations. Recover, re-boost and turn himself around to a positive direction. Didn’t have it on me so I burrowed. Hoping someday he would be grateful and pay me back as well so I can pay in turn pay the creditors. ‘Can you not talk about money?’ He comments. ‘Can it just be us?’.

How can it be though? When every time he talks, it feels like he is skimming his conversation to ask for more. Paying for his air b&bs or car repairs, burrowed digits have been stagnant for a while, favours continues to climb up steeply. Wouldn’t be surprised what I get in return as burrowed money is the money I spend on finding him accommodation and maintaining his veichle to get to work.

And he calls me ‘crazy’ when I get mad. 

Why wouldn’t I be? I am working on my career break slaving for money.  50£/hr, my colleagues tease  ‘you are now printing your own money’. None of it is staying in my account. It is going to pay his credit, the burrowed money. 

Would you invest as much as I have on a person you have only started dating? Who is homeless, in-between jobs often and keeps running away? I am trying to put a brave face. But I feel at this point I have done everything I could have to stand up for this relationship. I feel stupid. One foolish decision now does impact every avenues of my life.

‘I burrowed him 600£’. 

‘You didnot!’, my girlfriends had said, the first time I transferred him the triple digits. ‘Tinder swindler’, they asked me to watch that day. And every reunion the same query ‘are you still seeing him? Be careful. He sounds like he is going to be a bad financial decision’.  It’s become a mountain since then and I have remain hushed. 

Should I say, there are women as naive as me out here to you or should I say there are women out here who still believe in building foundations from scratch for relationship. If we survive this, it will be so much better I thought. What is life without love, without passion, without taking risks sometimes…

A lot of things has happened. This year has tested my beliefs, my patience and my life choices. I thank god that at-least I was on my career break! Hahaha. 

I know of people who have lost everything and are starting from scratch. Restaurant owners before, now folding t-shirts in a factory. There is a pride in spending sweat and working hard. One doesn’t recognise value of pennies unless one works for it. Like, one doesn’t recognise value of life unless one is thriving to live for it. 

I suppose he always knew the right words to say. ‘Noone will do what I would do for you’, I suppose I wanted to hear that.

The lesson I learn from here is, don’t. ‘Don’t collect red flags’ like Steve Harvey says. The troubled souls, the broken dreamers. Life is short. Associate yourselves with positive successful people, with happy go getters, in a positive circle. Birds of same feathers flock together.. If you want happiness, you need to be surrounded with similar energy. 

There is no reason to keep proving yourself in a flawed relationship where your partner did have all the chances but never took it. I suppose that’s where women ought to be careful ‘are you lowering your standards by not letting men prove to you their worth first?’.

Anyways finally admitting to myself Italian sweetheart has bankrupt me. Now you know why ‘financial’ stability has become an ‘it’ factor for me too. Leaving him back with 2022 and moving on.

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened. (Bye bye 2022. With love. Part 2 )

I suppose in personal life, a major part of what 2022 taught me was, a woman needs to pair up with the other half who is emotionally, intellectually and financially on a similar level as she is. When I mean emotionally; with a similar level of life experiences, maturity and a zest for life. I have realised it is also important to consider whether your partner had a similar upbringing and a background to yours. And I will explain my reasons in the following paragraphs.  Intellectually in a sense, the decision to not date a medical person was entirely up to me so I didn’t expect my partners to know the human body inside and out. But at a level where you can see that there is an understanding and reliability; that  you can trust them with some major decisions that are going to affect both of your lives in the long run. And ‘yes’ financially. Everyone wants their partners to have a stable job that pays them out and allows them to be independent people of their own and yes’, that was an important thing for me as well. But after certain experiences in life like running around London city with 10£ in pocket to last me the whole day, I knew people’s situation changed so it was never an ‘it’ factor for me, up until now. 

At my age, I cannot risk making random decisions anymore. Unfortunately neither do I have time like in my teens to amend those over the years and turn a new leaf. Foolish decisions ‘now’ will impact every aspect of my life. Of Course there is mental health but in the same tug, other areas of  my livelihood; like family & friendships, social status and job prospects will come undone. When I was in my early teens, I used to look at people as ‘old’ not in a bad way, but as someone who is wise, knows who they are, where they stand and what their roles and purpose are; having been through plenty ordeals in their early years shaping and shifting them to their now ‘present’, at pinnacle of their lives. In my thirties now, I know how wrong my thoughts were. In my mind I don’t feel like I have aged at all, from my late teens. I still do stupid things, like commit to a relationship for 8 months with the first guy I met on a dating app. Like that time, I showed up on a photoshoot in london. Or going back  in a relationship for another year with a guy with whom I knew I had no future. Standing in 2023, I feel confident about not repeating those mistakes. At times I lash out, being bitter to the men but ‘hey’ I have moved on. I seem to forget sometimes there was a reason why they were ex’s right? Now, I try to be emotionally corked at all times hahaha. I mean, I am trying to be self aware  how I respond and react to things. I am conscious about where I vest my emotions. In today’s world one needs to be. Heart in your sleeves and you might end up being dead in a gutter, from your mansion down to sleeping bags on streets, behind the prison bars for the crimes you didn’t commit or the commonest of all, being a stepping stone for people looking for easy rides when you are working to your bones. Gold diggers. 

I want to be emotionally mature enough to feel that a girl in me can trust the adult I have become. That she is trustworthy with her decisions without doubts and fears in my mind and, she has thoroughly thought about all the consequences of her actions. That I can be the daughter I was born to be and enjoy my childhood as I was meant to like any child. So I have memories I could laugh about someday looking back. Not having to wake up one day in my thirties and suddenly realising time has left me behind. 

Standing in 2023, I don’t think I will ever be ready to be a mother. Until, I feel confident that I can raise a happy little smart girl, on my own. With no security, no fall back or reassurance needed from anyone else. ‘That I am her mother and I know best for her. And I will do my best’. I don’t think I will be ready, until I am 100% ready to sacrifice my independence and part of life like I watched mother did so. It would be good to have a trustworthy partner and at the same level of emotional maturity to be able to take that responsibility but who am I kidding? The world we live in, from a woman’s perspective, I am only coming across men who have a tag on their forehead written  ‘It’s okay I’ll sow the seeds but I will never be ready for responsibility.’

As a partner, you are either 100% in it or not. You will change diapers as much as I will and you’ll miss your social events as much as I will. If you are not all in on it, I (we- speaking for all women) don’t want your liabilities and lazy ass delta genes. WE will respect you more, if you are honest and open about it in the first instance. At least that way, we had options but we chose it to be that way.

People are in different stages of life. Some never want children. Some are not in that phase to take responsibility. I don’t feel at all that I am there neither.  Of course, so don’t sow your seeds then. Definitely not on a phase, when you are hanging out in pubs 24/7 with your lads, playing games 24/7 with your boys, living cheque to cheque but your clothes cost you more than you can afford and, definitely not when you are jobless. The list goes on and on. It may sound that I am quoting obvious but I don’t think most men nowadays have a clue at all. I don’t know if its the social medias or the construct of the social ideology we live in, people have latest i-phones in their hands but not a bit of common sense, latest technologies but are dumber than ever. Having babies is not fashion, impregnating a woman is not a mark of your manhood; responsibility is commitment, not everyone is built for it. Like look into yourselves, please don’t act 16 on a 30 year old body. You are heading fast forward on your route to becoming a peeping tom and mom’s whispering to their children ‘don’t go near that man baby creep’. Look at yourselves too ladies, there is difference being treated right with gifts and being bought with gifts. Don’t complain about losing your man to second woman if you only married him in first instance for money. For god sake, stop being victims. You make women who actually are victims puke in their throats. Its a hard realisation but grow up, time will only move forward. Soon you will all be 16 on a 70 year old bodies. Wrinkly, cranky and crazy.

Reign of the Queen ( so you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened)

After more than 70 years of reign on the throne, Elizabethan era has now come to an end with demise of her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II at the age of 96, on September 8th 2022. Her successor Prince Charles has been crowned the new monarch with the title King Charles III as the head figure of the United kingdom and 14 other common wealth countries.

King Charles III has been stated to be the oldest king to ascend the throne in British history, which reflects well on late Queen’s good health, enthusiasm and dedication to her duties of the crown. 10 days of mourning period was announced for the nations to grieve their loss and bid their farewells. In good words. In words where her subjects sang of the pride and elegance she held herself with, of the smiles she brought in each of their homes supporting and encouraging them to stand for unity, with a face of a mother in soft spoken & polite voice but never faltering addresses to the world representing her people and the crown; as a force to be reckoned with.

‘She did well’, my mom said. And I nodded my head. In some ways, for us, she is a loss not only of a monarch of the lands but of a figure ‘the women in us’ look up to. In a world where we know how little our lives as women can make an impact and is valued, she stood like a burning flame of a mythical bird phoenix. Had their been a male heir on line of descent, she would have never succeeded the throne either at the time. She embraced her role. Needless to say, did it very well.

Prince Charles III does seem to have a big shoe to fill in with his royal image. Especially with his history with late Princess Diana and Prince Andrew still on public image as sex offender. ‘That happened under her rule. Can she have done something more?’, my friend is not so impressed of the hymns being sung . ‘I don’t know,’ is my answer. ‘Not every criminals are born to felons. Sometimes despite nurturing homes, despite royal status’. There is a big public scrutiny over every royal family members of the link. On that note, I am impressed by District court of New York. ‘No one should be above the law. ‘

‘Why are you in the kitchen? You are going to burn it down’. My mom used to say every time she saw me in our kitchen. To be fair in her part, I am someone who even burns tea. As in I’ll put something in stove, half an hour down the line, there is no sight of me and the vapour has evaporated, the residues of tea has stained yet another pot and I am on scrub duty for another half an hour.‘You have other things to do’, she would say. Always.

To this day I don’t know how to cook properly. I swear, until now when I go home, my sister packs me food of 3-4 days worth and sometimes, even takes days off or clears her schedule to grind in the kitchen for me. Hey! I can cook some things. But they just wouldn’t have me in the kitchen and, it has sort of become a tradition now to ‘scare’ me away as soon as I am spotted. Like they do to crows in my country when one spots in veranda as a bad omen.

‘You don’t need to learn this’, mom often said watching me paying attention to how she knits. ‘These are for people who don’t have work’. Used to watch grandma make mats out of maize corn covers. Imagine how cool it would have been, had I learnt. ‘Shoo shoo’ mom would flap her hands about motioning me to go away.

‘A woman’s life is very hard. You need to be able to stand up for yourself, go out in the world and make yourself a name & money. Go study. I am sure you have lot to do’- Mom

‘For you to be a successful my dear’ said one of my aunts. ‘Either you have to be a very beautiful or a very smart girl. Nothing in the middle would work. Anything average, you have to commit to average life of marriage & family. Days goes by and aspirations too then. To rise from it, you have to hustle everyday from now.’

Dad supported moms decisions. Coming from the environment they were raised where girls worked mostly on fields and were spoken for, for their first cousins by the age of 12 or 13. Their support was enormous. They prioritised our educations. ‘Anything that is best’, he used to say. One can never underestimate an image of a father in a patriarchal society. Having a husband, a presence of masculine energy in the household; name alone despite physical absentee offers a big emotional security to a woman and her family to plough through their days. This is a society where identity of a man grounds her & her children’s into a box that labels ‘socially acceptable.’ And this was a harsh reality both my dad and mom ensured ‘me and my sister’ knew from the very beginning.

‘When you seek husbands remember -A character of a man comes from virtues he was taught & from the environment he was raised at. Same is with girls. There is a saying in our village, a poor man’s daughter looks good by her face. A wealthy man’s daughter is good by her name. Choose the right man.’

It is confusing at times. The emphasis Mom seems to be putting now, on our success to be determined by the husband we’d land for ourselves when they raised us since we were kids as though we were boys, being reminded on multiple occasions our femininity makes us weak and we had to fight to be strong & independent to defend our lives and our rights as a human, as a wife and a mother someday. Shouldn’t our value be determined by what we have achieved so far than our partner’s social status? I am a little disappointed.

‘Nobody chooses a wrong partner because they want to. Mistakes happen. Divorce is okay. Single mom can raise children as well and do it right. You raised us almost by yourself you should know’. I speak gently trying to slowly ease her biggest fear that we might become single mothers and a ridicule target of society. ‘A house needs a man’s roof, protection & decision. I am not saying a woman is not capable but …’, Mom says.

Being raised under roof of strong men and women, I will not argue gender roles. A child needs both. By nature, we simply don’t have amenities to stand up to being both dad and mom in one. However, my mom comes from days when women endured a lot, including domestic violence and abuse from their partners because they were financially dependent on their husbands, had no means to get away and were forced to persist in loveless marriage by society. As strong headed as she is, she does have a unconscious bias having seen it as a norm that to an extent it is still normal and it is acceptable. Why?

‘Commitment speaks of your values, establishes you as a person of your word. That means something’. She says.

‘Ofcourse. And won’t we be lucky then. But there is a word called toxic relationship’.

In many parts of world including where I was raised, women are underprivileged solely because of the gender bias. A dowry is higher for a daughter who has more education and a job than those without. I would not be able to afford a husband in those communities. What good is relationship and partnership when it is signed before its birth with money?

‘It’s not easy. A woman’s life. And they will never let you have it easy either. So you should be your biggest ally. Only accept help when you need to. No shame in asking others for help. But a favour received is favour owed. Always hold your head high. If you have your reasons, if you are right, you hold your grounds no matter what.’

I do hope I have inherited some of my mother’s strengths and pray, none of her peculiarities. I do hope I also find a partner who supports & respects my decisions and stands for our ground together even though it meant turning down /fighting against the privilege he was blessed with. In my eyes, that would be a biggest sacrifice. I watch my dad cook and clean and it warms my heart. His friends would tease him saying ‘here you are being a house wife again’, but he never let it go to his head. I won’t say, he is an ideal of what every woman should expect but a quality in a person, who is thoughtful enough to say, ‘I can share the work and this is both our job’ is something everyone of us, every woman wants. There is a word called ‘conformity’ I came across in psychology. It is tendency of an individual to try to fit in the society. Not necessarily a bad thing, we are after all social animals. But I feel this nature drives a majority of men to believe that they are inherently superior beings to the other sex, authority and violence is therefore acceptable; and women to believe, they are condemned to this treatment.

Anyways, steering back to role of Queen in my life… In some ways, I have always been thankful to my dad’s recruitment into the army under her reign ; with her face in every coins they held in their hands. These weren’t silver coins alas that they traded for freshly pressed razor sharp bank notes in a bamboo woven trays. But, these were keys. To every locked door my mom closed down because of her insecurities. These were keys to her confidence in a new era where her daughters would indeed work shoulder to shoulder with men and be accepted not just for how they look or how much handy they were with household chores but for their skills & talents. Their heels here would never be sorely cracked or the palms be dry and roughened working on fields/labouring in factories trying to put food on table for the young. These were the keys she was always praying for, to the world of the Queen where she saw no daughters will ever be caged of their dreams and of the opportunities they wished they had. No, it wasn’t perfect. Oh the world is so far from being perfect for her daughters, but at least here she had strong hope. ‘My daughters will some day work in an office with people on fancy white shirts, they will have enough money to pay their own bills & buy their own houses. They will walk down the halls, down the roads with their heads held in pride while the world looks at them with respect, ‘look those are Mrs … daughters’, they will say. And they will be married to these men with most beautiful souls who will always keep them happy. ‘

Oh dear… (So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened)

So, my mom just recently returned from Nepal. She had flew off to the country as soon as the borders were open to travelling following COVID shut down and managed to secure herself a long awaited vacation by herself in peace without dad and us constantly nagging her in the background. As a souvenir she had brought us some waiwai noodles that we absolutely love and 4 gutted water frogs with their half open mouths and outstretched hands & legs that were completely sun roasted with their skin melted to their skeletons. She appeared very smug as she showed it to us holding them by legs almost as one would hold hot dog on a stick and passed it to me. I will be honest, they did appear crispier than a pork jerky but still had quite raw expressions of horrifying moment of death they were preserved at. Not realising in her moment of triumph that we have never seen this, she looked at us in disbelief and said ‘its hard to get these!’.

I had always wanted to try frog legs ever since I saw it in one of the episodes on ‘Travel and living’ channel. Apparently it is one of the French delicacies and is quite popular too as street foods in Asia like in Vietnam. YouTube bloggers who had it for first time compare it to being close to chicken but more juicy and delicious. Unfortunately this memory of mom showcasing her mummified frogs might have put me off from attempting to have that experience. I am pretty sure she was the hunter herself. Mom is opportunistic. Four is just too less of a number for her to buy. Makes me wonder, what kind of other adventures did she have in the village. She promises, they will never end up on our meals. I doubt so. There seems to be one for each one of us. I wouldn’t trust her words. It took me a couple of weeks to find out she has been filling my water bottles with snail water drinks. Apparently some one told her, ‘it is very healthy for gut’. She is the woman who was trying to buy 1 litre bottle of rhino pee from the Zoo determined to bribe the keepers having heard ‘it is being sold’ and ‘it has great health benefits’.

I remember once, coming home and finding grandma standing on our veranda also sun roasting one of the biggest slugs I ever seen in my life. It was pierced in so many directions with tooth picks, god bless, because she couldn’t find bigger skewers… Doesn’t surprise me, my mom is this way. Although it would be great not to have frogs, snail water as drinking water or rhino pee on a soup but hey what can one do right? But again if one of the chefs from lets say one of the high end French restaurants served me ‘would I say No?’. I don’t know.

No. I haven’t had slugs. I have had snails- as a cuisine. And honestly that was great. Hadn’t tried sea foods before until I came to the UK as Nepal is a landlocked country and, some other things. On that note, you never ask for a ‘beef momo’, you ask for ‘buff momo’ in Nepal. ‘Buff’ as in ‘Buffalo meat’ is quite commonly consumed. Please don’t ever ask for cow meat there.

We were laughing one day talking about these experiences about my mom’s weird habit with my close friend when her mom too admitted to her that when her and her sister were little and suffered from constipation, she would go to the old palace ruins to pick up slugs in Nepal. That would later be dried and their powder mixed into their soups. ‘It worked‘, she said. I guess it is not just my mom then, looking for home remedies. Similar to that story, one of my patients in her 80’s recently told me, when she was young and suffered from terrible constipation her mom would tear a cotton cloth, put a soap in it, soak it in the water and give her an enema. ‘It worked’, she said too.

I don’t know what works and what doesn’t to be honest. We can’t go on researching every myths they have out there, can we? Have you heard of all the things people have been doing for home remedy of COVID past years? My uncle and aunt apparently turmeric drinks were great to get rid of the virus. Listening to their story coming from Mom, I am not sure whether their COVID symptoms was severe diarrhoea or it was the concentrated turmeric drink they were taking for their symptoms that was making them go back and forth? Honey drink, tea and hot drinks I can understand. They have soothing effect on sore throat and help expectorate cough. Advised the same to my siblings when they had COVID and I could literally hear my mom roll her eyes in its bony vaults over the phone all the way from Nepal. ‘You don’t know what you are talking about’ she remarked. I wonder if it is a shared problem with every doctor’s in the world or just mine, my family members never seem to take my medical advice. If they did, mom wouldn’t be carrying dead frogs across the oceans in her luggage right?

Anyways, ‘People are drinking alcohol to fight with COVID. It is an antiseptic. So… ‘ A small glass of whiskey everyday on a supposedly based medical recommendation? I know where she is going with it. ‘There are herbal sprays and powders that you put in nose that gets rid of COVID even when you are just starting to develop symptoms’. ‘I don’t want you stuffing anything in your nose again Mom’, I tell her off appearing stern, reminding her of the time when I came back home to find her puffed with a swollen face- nose, mouth and eyelids salivating from one end of her mouth. There was a herbal product called ‘Nos’ in Nepal, I don’t know if it is still circulating around. Both my mom and aunt trialled it to help with their sinusitis problems. You take a sniff of it (reminded me of cocaine addicts they showed on TVs when they did it) and after some time, you start having excess nasal drainage. I don’t know what happened after few days, I swear she looked like the frozen sun-roasted toad she is showing me now.

I feel for people who are now suffering from long COVID symptoms who are desperate to try anything including and not limited to complementary medicines. A lot of our modern day antibiotics and treatment are a discovery or at least in part a derivative of these ancient practices. They have proven benefits in many cases however I would advise caution with any use. I read there are extensive frauds going on trying to sell a miracle cure for COVID, scamming thousands of people. One needs to be really careful in today’s day and age. My dad was at the bank while on the phone with a scammer about to transfer money!! From our last conversation about COVID medications, monoclonal antibodies called Ronapreve (casirivimab & imdevimab combination) has been now removed from treatment guidelines since it was found to be less effective against omicron variant which remains the dominant variant today with its BA.5 variant leading in numbers and some BA.4 variant cropping here and there. Paxlovid has been introduced a while ago which is a combination of Nirmatrelvir & Ritonavir in oral formulation. And I read, both Molnupiravir and Paxlovid are both being studied now under RECOVERY trial. Similarly stem cell therapies is other avenue that is being looked into.

I have now come out of training and do only part time shifts now and then to keep afloat on my rent and expenses. So I have to be honest, I have not and will no longer be keeping track of COVID while on my ‘career break’. I haven’t yet travelled. Thanks to my poor judgement on expenses on romantic and life decisions. Hahaha. Finally got myself a ticket. ‘Is covid still going around in Nepal?’ I asked her as soon as I got the confirmation email. ‘No one is scared of Corona anymore. Its Dengue in Kathmandu all over now. Make sure you are fully clothed top to bottom and carry insect repellents’.

‘Oh dear…’

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened (Tethered – 2)

I stumbled across a video ‘what hoarders are actually like’ in youtube featuring talk with Dr Jenny Yip (psychologist). On questioning what is difference between someone who is a hoarder and someone who has lot of stuff or someone who collects. She answered, ‘person who hoards they have problem discarding items, with accumulating items and also figuring out where to place items. So house tends to be disorganised and there is no category for where things are supposed to be placed’. ‘A person who has clutter, you might have too many things , you might get to cleaning the place up except its just cluttered this moment.’ ‘Collector is actually collecting items of value to most people. They are usually placed in organized category and could even be displayed’. She emphasized, that the statistics of people actually recognising problem themselves was very low and in most cases would seek help only because their family members were concerned. As the interviewer summarises, the take away message I took from that talk was learning ‘the fundamental problem is at decision making ability’ in the beginning of this cascade.

Dr Randy Frost videos posted by ‘International OCD foundation’ are a must watch for people who really want to understand the key elements and more in depth about this problem. In his talks, he dissects the diagnostic criteria (DSM -5 manual) to a very simple layman term so that everyone are able to understand what it is. The criteria itself as laid by DSM defines hoarding disorder as :

A. presumed difficulty discarding or parting with possessions, regardless of their actual value.

B. This difficulty is due to both a perceived need to save the items and distress at the thought of discarding them.

C. The difficulty in discarding possessions results in accumulation of possessions that congest and clutter active living areas and substantially compromises their intended use; if living areas are uncluttered, it is only because of the interventions of the third parties.

D. Hoarding causes clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational or other important areas of functioning.

E. Hoarding is not attributable to another medical condition.

F. Hoarding is not better explained by symptoms of another mental disorder.

Honestly, I did not know these things about this disorder as well as I know now, despite being in a medical career. Of course at some point in medical school the word had popped up and I too am blown away by these shocking videos, where the minute the door was opened avalanche of piles and piles of ‘stuffs’ flooded out.

The part of the definition that might actually save me today from this sinking feeling is learning that with hoarding disorder there is ‘compromise of areas of their intended use’. I did lose my living room but I still had a bedroom though right? These instances of going into a spree of over shopping, accumulating and not getting rid of anything for me seems to be happening in a pulsatile movement. Looking back now, I do recognise small waves of similar behaviour. Why do I own 6 bags of same design just different colours?

Life works in very strange ways. I have a met a friend of a friend now; this amazing person who is a high achieving professional but a clinically diagnosed hoarder. She is same age as me, a lovely person to speak to, very helpful and kind. Every time I see her, she is always sat on a chair next to communal kitchen – on her weekends, leave days and on nights as a permanent lodger. It looks uncomfortable, there is no bed in the kitchen or a sofa to lie on. But she is always there. Sat up on a wooden chair, nodding off to sleep or scrolling her phone. There are bags and bags outside the door of her own room. ‘She can’t go in because there are too many things inside hers. There is no space’, My friend commented; assembling all the empty bottles of wine in the kitchen and putting it neatly in her shopping bags. ‘She collects these empty bottles. There are so many of these here everywhere’.

‘Hoarding’ to a degree is a feeling of paralysis -because it is a visual manifestation ‘as I have quoted before’ of someone’s emotional health. You can’t unhide it. It creates anxiety, you feel frustrated, you acquire things or clutch on to things to counteract that feeling. And the cycle goes on and on, until eventually one caves and lets go. There is no hole one can dig to hide all that, one needs a professional help. Someone to guide through the problem and tackle it. And someone to sit down with and take their time going through it, bit by bit. To actually discuss what seems reasonable to go in the garbage bin and what can stay. Seeing as I see now, watching through someone else’s eyes ‘those empty bottles of wine appears to be a trash’. Like Joey would say to ‘my things’ sometimes.

I had written down in notes of what I felt at the time during that phase, why I think I felt like that; to gain a little perspective on what might be driving this bizarre behaviour. It was important for me in order to recognize and correct it myself before I lost sight of all other crucial things in my life.

I feel so much in control now.

I know exactly what and how much of stuff I have in my room. Putting half of my stuffs away and moving out of my old apartment was definitely a good idea. I am less distracted now-no more opening/looking and rearranging boxes anymore. I feel more fulfilled- I have been able to use my things to its maximum purpose. Finally opening the gift sets I was given a while ago and appreciating it! There are no more 3-4 opened lotion bottles or face creams. Everything is one at a time. In fact my mantra to life now is, ‘Take a deep breath. One step at a time.’ And it applies to all- for my stuffs and the big goals in my life. I have more time in my hands than I had before. Because I am not wasting any of it and my energy searching, organising and cleaning up after the chaos I used to create in the living room. I am reading more because its taking me less than 5seconds to pick a book to read now. I only have 5-6 of them in the cabinet. Medical books were hardest to give up. Used to carry them place to place moving every 2-3 years. But now everything is in the internet, so I let them go too. I’ll just google ‘plus’ it is more updated than those 8-9 year old books.

Like Matt Paxton described how he has come to appreciate core belief of minimalism stating ‘having less stuff leaves room for more experiences’. I too have come to respect its values. Minimalism now is flourishing concept. I don’t know how practical it is to me, honestly I never see myself being minimalist but ‘I feel free’. I feel like after a long time I am finally becoming a whole again both in flesh and soul. I don’t know if it is because I had some time off with my leaves or the idea of going on a career break soon and do travelling, see friends and families or just an effect of removing myself from that space ‘with too much stuff’. OR a combination of all. I feel free! And it is good. I’m going out more. I no longer feel I have to push myself to be out. Its a lovely summer here in England to be up and about! Why not?

Don’t get me wrong, a part of me firmly believes, a good storage unit would have solved all my problems. Having strict parents who don’t share same taste as me for clothing, accessories, books etc meant I couldn’t leave most of my stuffs at theirs. It would all get thrown away. Bless my older brother’s heart, he still readily agrees to hide anything I give him. Hahaha. But also a the same time let me be honest, it was getting out of hand. When you start feeling home at a place, you start accumulating things. A couple of plates today, a flower pot tomorrow, a furniture here and there then behold! Its getting crowded.

I still don’t know what made me slip. COVID isolation? Or something else that I haven’t recognised yet?

I am not a hoarder. I know that now. Although ‘yes’ I do feel I perhaps fall somewhere around the spectrum if there is any. I remember having this wave of anxiety wash over that one time, when a patient of mine showed me a photo of his kitchen at home. There was no space to sit or even cook on the stove. ‘Look how beautiful she is’, he said pointing to his wife’s picture, utterly sad to be living apart from her, that she had this condition he did not understand and he could not help her with. For some reason, I saw myself in her shoes.

Stuffs do hold us back. There are always going to be things that are valuable to us. But we should stop putting those values on things that are perishable, expires and takes too much space. You are important. Your personal space is important. Your relationships are important. Rest, everything is replaceable. Don’t make ‘stuffs’ bigger than you. Lets not make ‘stuffs’ bigger than us.

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened (Tethered)

I developed into this habit of over acquiring things during the pandemic. Over few months, it got out of control. And as I confessed before, the boxes kept growing till I had no space on the lounge to even sit. A double two seated sofa I had was underneath a heap of clothes somewhere and I was so embarrassed about my situation I didn’t dare to invite anyone into my apartment. I told myself I just needed some days off to clear it up, neatly arrange and tuck them away. But when I did have leaves, I wouldn’t. I didn’t have energy to and, every time I opened that door, this feeling of anxiety would rush in me. It was sad because it was a visible manifestation of how fragmented I felt inside me, at the same time how tethered I was to this black hole… And the worst part is, I couldn’t hide it. Anyone walking through that door would have seen how miserable I was.

The problem was ‘spending over the limit’. I needed the cheque to come in by the end of month so I could pay my bills and buy my meals. Second problem was, ‘on things that I necessarily didn’t need’. Why was I buying 6+6 bottles of wine on tesco offer when I rarely even drink for social reasons? And stacks of beers? I hate beer. I mean, the taste of it. My reasoning at the time was, ‘well mom likes her drink and I would love her to try out everything there is. And its always better to stash some at home in case of family dinners.’ My uncles & aunts love their drinks too. With culture and traditions they were accustomed to back at home and in the service. You can’t blame them.

But then, it wasn’t just that, ‘boots’ and ‘superdrug’, in fact all the shops out there makes it much cheaper for us to buy 3 things at a time than 1. You underestimate how easy it is to get carried away. I assumed it was financially smart which in my context it was. I use my products, whatever it is- mascaras/ lipsticks/ body showers/ lotions everyday. They finish quick. I don’t always have weekends off to go and grab stuffs. I like the idea of having extra that way I never run out.

The habit of it, buying in bundles of 3’s and 4’s extended gradually to other parts of my shopping cart. Like clothes. If I found a comfortable dress/shirt I really liked, I bought at least 2 or 3 of it at the same time. It was like my brain was constantly telling me ‘get 3 of them, you don’t know if you’ll get this good deal on this price of this quality again?’. Some kind of uneasiness was surfacing then I suppose that wasn’t just satisfied with acquiring just one. Its stupid, how I was allowing my thought process to work. ‘What if it tears out or I wear it out and its not there anymore when I want to wear it someday. Or what if the trend of it just goes away and they stop producing it. I don’t want to not have it then’. Who thinks that far? But at the end of the day, to me, my purchases were always justifiable. I was buying my comfort and saving myself from future stress of having to replace it with exact another piece. I wasn’t even just buying for myself, I was shopping also for my siblings without even querying them once if they needed it.

‘Food’. I like preparing my meals for a week. I want to have home cooked lunch and dinners. Canteen and restaurant meals are great but it doesn’t feel right sleeping without a few spoon full of home cooked rice, daal and curry. Think of it like bread for some people. They have to have at least one loaf of it at some point during the day. When I do cook, I cook the whole batch of all the dishes whatever I can make at the same time. So for any reason if I do miss that cooking slot, all of it goes to waste. And I absolutely hate seeing that happen. So could I have made my life easier and save all that by doing shopping trips every now and then? I could. But this is where the reasonings starts sounding absurd now. It seems the catch is for me, overbuying stuff in one go. The small rush of it I feel with it, gives me a sense of control. Then there is, comfort of easy availability at times when I need it and the most important one ‘avoiding any situation that would make me step out of the main door’.

I started to realize I have lost my edge when I couldn’t reason why, I don’t throw away out of date products, donate clothes I do not wear or sell things I do not use. When Joey said ‘that shit only cost like 30 quid, throw it away. I will buy you a new one’, pointing at my sofa underneath the pile. I lost it completely that day. It is not the money. Why would I pay hundreds of quid a year to store crap that I bought only for 30 quid? Its attachment. And it was difficult to explain to him when he behaved like that, eventually I started to completely avoid the topic. ‘I am attached to it. It was my first sofa in my own space where I slept on for many days.‘ He kept repeating and re-repeating ‘I will buy this, I will buy you that. Better ones’.

There is a time in people’s life when you realise in the moment that you have ability to love people wholeheartedly even when you are breaking down. But when you are struggling to love yourself, sparing even a little more can take its toll. You can pretend everything is fine, but 50% of the relationship is ‘you’. Its never going to be fine, without you ‘being fine’.

Do you feel that sometimes even people close to our heart under evaluate the expectations they have for us in their minds? ‘Appearing perfect, behaving perfect, always bringing on the A game, being decisive, in control of the situation’. Do you feel this projection of idealist personality has somehow crept its way, expanded slowly from the hospital doors, from our patients, from our professional settings to our homes and personal relationships? That you are not allowed to have doubts anymore, question anymore or ask for reassurance anymore. ‘You are a doctor‘, they comment. In what context though? It is starting to sound like a blanket remark for everything.

‘You are a doctor. You’ll be fine’.

I thought it was only an impulsive problem. That I was having difficult time just calibrating. That I would soon learn to control. Online markets, high street markets. There are thousands of men and women shopping beyond limits everyday. Its a craze of materialistic world. Instant peak in endorphins, a short lived high. A moment of burst we all are looking for in our tedious routines.

Growing up, my memories of house is cupboards full of food. Cartoon and cartoon of noodles and juice in the room to snack on, whenever we wanted. But somedays, nothing. There would be people and children all around for a year and somedays no one. I don’t know if queuing with plates for food and hoping to get a piece of chicken even at our own home like in school, is a one of my good memories or bad one. When the count of head gets to double digits, you just learn to give in quick. None of us were fussy eaters. We couldn’t be. There were only 2 stoves to prepare food and they were always occupied. Wasn’t like Mom couldn’t afford it, just had too many people to share with. ‘Free lodging. Free food.’ Who would one pass that opportunity in Kathmandu? She had our house open to whole village. 8-9 cousins waiting admission on schools. Uncles/ Aunts and friends -waiting on official paperwork/ visas/ commuting for flights from the city, long-term medical treatments and all sorts of reasons. She could never say ‘No’. Met some of my loveliest cousins those days. Other than that well not worth my effort wrecking my brain recalling faces. But I will tell you, food never tasted that better.

Thing is, Mom used to do her shopping all at once. With supplies constantly running out, you can’t keep going to shops everyday. Food, may be more often but not others. She had a wise habit of stocking everything. Soap bars, shampoos, toothbrush, notebooks, pen/pencils everything; which of course was very useful when we needed them. Once a local shop opened a few steps away, she gradually stopped that habit. But I wonder if I picked up on it at some point where she left. And suddenly with COVID and the stress it brought with work and personal life; what used to be a smart choice I learnt from her ended up being pathological.

Nothing ever got to waste those days with Mom. I waste things. That is where I guess another part of my struggle is. Because actually inside me, I have a deep rooted need to utilise stuff. . Whatever things it might be, even though they no longer have any value. Example, my brother likes his beer when he hangs out with his friends. Because he shows up often without prior warning when I might be at work, I had bought 2 cases of beer . 2 boxes of 20 pack stella. He left shortly after, deployed to other place. So I was stuck with his beer that I don’t drink. I threw 1 case away which I admit was pretty difficult to. They cost me and the bottles were unopened! So boy was I glad, when I found articles on ‘uses of expired beers’ on the internet — apparently it reduces hair fall and has a conditioning effect. So I stored rest of 12 bottles pack with me. Over months threw them a bottle by bottle, because they were taking too much space. I still got 6 of them on my rack now. They expired 7 months ago! A voice in me says, ‘one of these days, we will do a beer hair mask so we need it. Also it will be a new experience’. But when? I have had enough weekends off in these months and I still haven’t done it. It is just a part of behaviour I am displaying isn’t it?

There is very good Ted talk video ‘The unintended result of our attachment to personal belongings’ by Matt Paxton. He says ‘memories attached to our stuff put us right back in a really happy place’. I like it when he says ‘I am going through their memories’. ‘They are looking for their happiness and self worth in stuff’ he explains. ‘It actually holds them back from living. Most of my clients have lost their jobs, they’ve lost their spouses, they’ve lost their homes, they’ve lost everything in hopes that they would get it’.

I am not there yet, but having an insight that I do possibly fall in a spectrum where definitions are in muddy waters makes me self conscious. Which is not necessarily a bad thing.

This behaviour disorder or a problem ‘whatever you want to call it’ has indeed cost me a lot. Not just the money I spent but my peace, undoubtedly my relationship and my confidence. So I can empathise with these patients. Listening to the experts on these fields and patient’s stories , I cannot deny the shocking relief I felt, knowing how relatable their feelings were to me. ‘But with dead cats under the piles of papers?’ No… No…NO…

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened (Chasing diamonds)

I am 5’2, been told- of small frame but I’m quite sturdy and stocky. ‘Thick’, as Joey used to say it. Similar built to my other Nepalese ethnic origin sisters, as in shorty with wide hips and bow legs. My knees don’t meet and my legs only come together at my ankles. Not a great shape to be on tight jeans pants but I still love to wear them.

‘When galla lined us on a row for selection he looked at the legs first. At how much gap there was between the legs, the more they bowed better they were. Sign of strength, strong genes’. My father once said to me when I was young. ‘Or of nutritional deficiency’, I had commented. At which my mom frowned, saying ‘Nonsense. We had you pumping on vitamin pills and syrups all the time. You are healthy. And don’t wear those tight jeans, they make your legs look like those of football players’. 

‘We grew up in village. We didn’t know what was the right diet for the children, what nutritional needs they had. We gave them whatever we thought was good. It might be true you know.’ My father reflected on my statement looking at Mom’s direction and reminiscing his days of being a young father of two on his teens.

I almost puked at the word ‘right diet’. At the memory of mom making us drink hemp seed oil with milk on a 400ml cup. 1/3rd of the cup was just oil floating on top. We had to drink it on one attempt pinching our nose because it tasted horrible. And we had to because mom did not take no for an answer especially if she believed it was indeed very good for our health. Hemp seed craze only lasted for a month, thank god for that, otherwise I am pretty sure we’d have died young with heart attacks. I’m told the seed oil cost fortunes at that time.

‘We were short because we carried heavy loads in the village. They didn’t have to carry any. It might just be how they are’. My mother disagreed, strongly, on my dad’s suggestion.

‘But my brother was really tall and your mother and uncles were really tall.’ ‘He was so tall,’ dad started laughing, focusing his attention to me now. ‘That one time, when we had to take him to hospital in a taxi we had very hard time fitting him in. His legs were dangling out of the door!’

My friend Suj feels, it is all to do with the loads we carried on our backpacks as students everyday. ‘8 books for 8 classes  a day with 2 notebooks for each, a diary, lunch box and a water bottle. That’s a lot to carry,’ she reasoned. ‘But that still doesn’t explain why younger generation of my cousins who are still carrying same weight backpack are climbing like vines to the sky while we just got stuck here halfway.’

As you can read, we talk about all sort of things. There is never a time to run out of topics with us. Between me and my parents, friends and my siblings. People say, I talk less! Wait till I am with right bunch. I could just say ‘remember that time’ and they would go like ‘Oh I member’.

I am very close with my siblings. Lot of memories together. One advantage of having strict mom whose idea of protecting was often locking us in our flat, we became best of pals with each other. Four. A good number to divide in two teams for every games. Cards, ludo games, and especially carrom board. Were so good at it, the adults would ask us to join them if they had a missing person in their team. Even on days we’d fight, we would make up right away. None of us could stay mad at each other for a long time. There was nowhere to go but to confront our feelings. To this day, I cannot stay mad at them longer than few hours.

I remember, our TV used to be locked inside a giant glass cupboard. There was only specific times and weekend days when we were allowed to watch our programmes uninterruptedly. ‘I will let you guys watch the TV when you guys are done with homework’, mom would say but then she’d be gone for hours and we’d miss our favourite shows on cartoon network and animax. So one day my oldest brother decided that he needed to learn how to pick the lock. And bravo he did! When the door to that glass cupboard went click, all four of us were hysterical. One of my best memories in life. Taking turns to stay guard hourly so that the others would be warned as soon as Mom showed by the the red house on corner in the neighbourhood, was fun. Took her about 5 mins from that point to reach our flat on third floor with multiple grilles and locks. By the time she showed up, we’d have hyperventilated our adrenaline and be sipping on colas as if nothing happened. Although, I do have a feeling, Mom caught up on us after a year. She started doing this routine where she would touch the top of TV with palm of her hands as soon as returned.

Having siblings of similar age, who understand you inside and out is amazing. ‘Nothing like blood’, as they say. I never had to work hard to build relationships outside my comfort zone because I had them. Not like, I did not try to. But, I realised after being miserable on my own for a while, I would rather be with one genuine person I can relate to. Than a group of giggling girls who back bite the second one leaves or boys who are all about being macho, proving they are tough and doing so very stupid things. At home, I had these 3 genuine people of my own. Fell down the bike and avulsed her scalp and my little sister did not speak a word about being on a ride with me. Held my little brother upside down because he spit on my face to teach him some manners, that little brat did not even report a single word to mom when she came home. And where do I even begin with my oldest brother, no matter what trouble I got into, he always had my back. No questions asked.

Loyalty and trust doesn’t come automatically I suppose, when I look at my parent’s relationships with their siblings. My father did not attend his brother’s funeral. ‘I couldn’t get leave‘, he said. But you could see, he had been broken so many times by him, he was long gone from his heart. My mother called me a few days ago, crying over some thing her sister had done again. She never learns. But, I suppose it hurts more when family betrays you.

‘You won’t be like us, would you?’, they ask. ‘No’. I reply. It would never come to that. Our binding faith on each other comes from years of investments on each other. All these little things we went through and the memories of it we carry. My parents and their siblings never had these opportunities. As soon as they learned to walk, they went separate ways. ‘Lesson is never trust anyone. Especially not your friends’ Dad says. ‘Tighten your own purse strings, that way you won’t ever have a reason to blame. And, never show your weakness to anyone. People have fangs underneath their armpits ‘ Mom adds.

But, everyone needs someone to trust to. One never realises the impact of having right people in lives, until one is on a shithole and they need help. Being an adult living on your own, you have to factor a possibility, life can suddenly change. You don’t always have your health to count to nor the job security. Today living in a five star hotel, tomorrow you may become homeless. Who do you have to go to? Find that friend. Find that family. There are four people chipping in for my expenses when I can’t meet my months end. They are not rich. A little over 1 grand, 2 grand at maximum sometimes in a month and even none on their pay check. But seeing 50 from one, 100 from others and even 20 for god’s sake! Makes me so happy. There is no better sanity pill in the world than soothing words from the right person/from the right people saying, ‘Don’t worry, I am here for you’.

A friend of mine said to me, ‘I am alone. Its just me’. At the time, I didn’t grasp the feelings behind those words. ‘I am alone too’, I thought. But he wasn’t implying a literal sense to his statement. Knowing him now, I now know he meant ‘he had no one to fall back to’. It felt lonely to put myself in his shoes then.

Parents, siblings and best friends. No money will ever be enough to buy those relationships. Some of us were blessed from the start, some of us- didn’t have that beginning. Especially past teens, relationships are hard to establish. Because by then, as young adults we exactly know what our personality is, what kind of people we are comfortable with. By then we will have set our borders and constructed our high walls, everyone else will automatically shunned out. If you ask randomly now, majority of people will say they met their best friends or their long term friends when they were little, in school or some kind of camps. But there are people out there who didnot have that chance, children out there who won’t have that chance. One fails to see the invisible reach the safety and security of family has to offer outside homes. In school playgrounds or even while venturing out in the world. The confidence to approach strangers, open themselves up to them. Yet is not the lack of effort I feel, it is fear of disappointment that it will only be temporary.

Which is true in many cases. So, if you have opportunity to invest on genuine people you should. It is an investment because it takes time, effort and commitment. Trust and loyalty is not granted even in blood. It is hard to love a human. It is. After you have seen the things they do, hear the crimes and sins they have committed. What obligation does anyone have to accept that stranger that may very much become a bad decision or a liability some day? But everyone needs someone. They do. 2 individuals coming together in good faith makes families, whether they have romantic afflictions or not. That is when pillars of strong foundations are laid. Relationships thrives and blossoms in that footing. Finding diamonds takes work. Many times it is an empty chase. Of course it would be. You know how precious they are? But if you do find one, it will all be worth the wait. Remember, never be too disappointed. ‘Only a diamond cuts out a diamond.’

So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened (Second class citizen).

The Guardian on 25th June posts on its headline ‘Covid cases on the rise across UK as Newer variants dominate’. COVID is back again. Not that it ever left, but the numbers are big enough to get attention and to deepen our furrows in an anticipation of what it might result to. Like a bad juju. I don’t even allow myself to entertain the thought of going back to lockdown anymore.

It seems to be driven by BA.4 and BA.5 variants of omicron. The cases are mix. They might be quadruple, triple, double, single vaccinated or none at all. Still not as unwell as they were in first wave. Hence the behaviour of general public, ‘not a damn given’. Which is kind of good. Last thing we need is panic driven public in our road to slow steady recovery.

Not surprisingly The Guardian mentions ‘levels are highest in London and among those aged 25-34′. Work and social life isn’t it? Both my brother and sister have tested positive this week too. After all this time since COVID began for the first time. I know many people who have had now by 3-4 times already. My brother is fine, sister is down with terrible flu symptoms; is slowly recovering.

But, moving on from COVID, my attention this time is more focused on page 12th and the 13th of paper. As soon as I saw the headlines, it felt as though someone had slapped me across my face. ‘Biden warns of lives in danger as supreme court overturns Roe V Wade’, ‘Blood in their hands’ Doctors hit out at abortion decision.

There is a lot to follow in the news. For those who are having difficult time to grasp the head end or the tail end of it, I will just copy past a few lines I have been reading through from the same pages.

‘The US supreme court has overturned the landmark the Roe V Wade case, which granted women in the US the right to terminate a pregnancy.’

‘The court decided there is no constitutional right to abortion in a case called Dobbs V Jackson Women’s Health Organization. In reaching that decision the conservative-majority court overturned Roe V Wade, from 1973′.

‘As a result states will ban or severely restrict abortion.’

‘Twenty six states are expected to do so immediately, or as soon as practicable. This will make abortion illegal across most of the south and Midwest’.

Every women worldwide must have felt that. The slap, I mean. A force across her soft cheek by a sturdy rough hand with a brute force, aimed precisely to cover most of her face and with no doubt with an aim to disfigure her beautiful features. Including the queen.

It comes as shock even to us as health professionals. How a country like USA that is always on the lime light; a country of dreamers, forward thinkers, world leaders and entrepreneurs; that is an image of pinnacle of social acceptance, equality, diversity and freedom to the rest of the world, can make a decision like that. Like the British prime minister Boris Johnson says, ‘a big step backwards’.

In the UK , ‘abortion act 1967’ allows medical termination of pregnancy less than 24 weeks if continuation of pregnancy possess risk of injury to physical or mental health of pregnant woman or any existing children of her family, continuation would involve risk to her life and, there is a serious risk that if the child were to born it would suffer from such physical and mental abnormalities as to be seriously handicapped. Beyond 24 week, there are only limited and specific circumstances justifying it.

None of my male colleagues seem to welcome the idea either. So I am guessing the problem is not with gender bias or hatred of some form for opposite sexes. Yet why does it feel like the punishment was only to us? ‘Has anyone thought about teenage boys not ready to become fathers yet?‘ like my colleague rightly asks.

I hope women advocating for pro-life have strong reasons to stand their grounds because losing this battle is losing basic rights of freedom for all womenkind. Standing at this pivotal time, celebrating victory while marching a movement that will imprison and incarcerate us, our daughters and granddaughter and generations to come; let us pray that they have enough will to forgive themselves when the consequences of it, if not directly but eventually will find its way to them. Those eyes that are too full of self righteousness at present time, that refuses to see the tears and hear screams of underprivileged girls and women, while sitting behind white picket fences while enchanting lord’s name 20 times a day; feels traitorous to look at now.

A decision like that, made by a country like USA has a big impact in the world. It indeed has ripple effect. I cannot even imagine what dreadful events it will trigger in a cascade now, in countries where society is religiously and culturally male dominated. Where parents sell their daughters like goods to pay off debts, where marrying off your daughter is good riddance but with a big cost in the form of dowry to her husband, where women can’t drive, can’t pray in the same hall as men, where women have no right to decision who they can marry or can refuse, where rapes are happening everyday accepted culturally and religiously, and even if they are not; where women don’t have a voice, can’t stand their trial because society won’t let them- without hanging themselves down the ceiling motionless, cold and frozen before her perpetrator. Could be stranger, could be a friend, could be a father. Who cares. With decisions like this, they are the end results. These victims will never be able to run, never be able to ask for help again. As sad as it is, then, it wouldn’t be wrong to say, dogs are better treated than humans even in USA. Classed as second class citizens, women no longer have their basic right to their own body and to their own wombs. Somebody please reassure me that, there will still be access to contraception right?

Are we even allowed to chose our own mates then? That is one big question. Like some villages in Nepal, girls will be openly kidnapped, the acts will be romanticized by men, by society; they will raped openly on the streets. Men and boys will fight amongst themselves to decide who gets to force himself on her first to plant his seed. They know, she will bear him children. Abortion is illegal, what choice will she have. At least justice is done there with blood for vengeance if the intention was not to marry the woman?

What about mothers with babies with severe birth anomalies? No mother should be forced to watch their new-borns struggle for life whether it is just for few mins, hours, days or months. Definitely not to adulthood, completely helpless and dependent on her to sustain breath, suffering every moment of it, hating themselves and her for bringing them to the world in their cruel faith. What about those with still births?

Such a primitive mindset. You’d think with so much scientific developments, technologies, increased literacy rates – world would only move forward. No. Like my friend says agreeing to Boris. ‘We are going back’. ‘Back to no abortions, back to wars and back to plaques’. What is next, will every boys and men who have sired a certain number of children be nipped off?

Its outrageous how a group of bad politicians and their decisions can outstrip humans of their basic right of autonomy of their own bodies. How many among those decisionmakers were ones with uterus and fallopian tubes? If there were any, I am sure they would have considered that there will be rise in crime rates, consequently in girls seeking abortions in black markets, in dingy rooms with unsterilized equipment risking their lives. That mothers will once again grieve at birth of their daughters. And our tomorrows will be on hands of a generation who we’d have failed to protect from physical abuse, emotional abuse and life long neglect from their own mothers right? Is it so hard to see, what the result of their action will lead to? This is not just opinion we are talking about. We are talking about enforcing laws and affecting lives.

PS- Its a 100th post. I had set out that day– with an aim that I’ll stop once I post my 100th. One of those things i had to do from my ’things to do’. I had drafted when I was going through a little difficult time during COVID. And here it is! Any extra I write from here onwards will be a bonus work for myself. I congratulate myself for commitment. Thank you for being a part of this journey. 😁

Queens of the thrones (So you’re a doc, a foreign cuisine and Corona happened)

I guess it was expected that Joey and I would eventually part our ways. We tried so hard to make it work but when both of you want two different things in life and in a couple; you are two individuals rather than a team there is only so much one could have pushed for. We were fundamentally very different people, I suppose we turned a blind eye to that fact, which now I realise is the main pillar for building any relationships. ‘Compatibility.’ Common interest, common theme to make it easy. Because there are going to be days when you won’t want to work so hard, it might be job/might be friends/ you just feel like not being 100% that day… but the moment you do so, the castle walls shake and they threaten to fall. Compatibility gives momentum, the inertia for a relationship to keep going.

It is hard to be a foreign graduate in training. I want to continue training in a place where I get good support throughout like I do now. I still have at least 5 or 6 years to come out of the other end. And by this point, I have put too much effort to even think about  jeopardizing my career. I agree, I am taking baby steps but I know the direction I am heading to and my end goal. The tortoise won the race, remember? Without right support, all these accomplishments I have achieved for these many years will be valueless. Instead of being stepping stones they’d start becoming just another point on my CV that the judge panel won’t even consider worth a second to cast an eye. 

I don’t want to do a long distance relationship  for that many years. If Joey feels secure and feels his life belongs there in the crib he grew up on, he is right to do so. We all know what the call of a home feels like. For me, it is too far away. The idea of spending my youth days in isolation eats me. I have been trying to push myself to go out and do more things these many years. I worry, if I move to a place to that distance from a phone signal from my friends and my family; sleeping on my anxiety on the days the internet connection has failed again, I will feel trapped. Especially because I don’t know how to drive yet. Don’t ask me why? I don’t know yet. I stress on the word ‘Yet’. I will fail to appreciate the comfort his house has to offer, the peace and the breath-taking view it is blessed with. Then what is the point? 

Still, I contemplated moving there with him after I became a consultant. I would have to look for a part time job near or on a driving distance from the area. Now its at least 3 hours driving one way on a good day. Maybe it will be easy, once I control the wheels. It’s not like I don’t love the place, I adore it. But, he didn’t give me any options. He was fixated on his decision of being there all his life. He showed no effort, to think of any other ways. All my life, I had been afraid to be a frog in a bucket. I didn’t know, some people choose to be that way. The comfort of it was too valuable to lose. I couldn’t offer him my long term plan. I didn’t say any word.

There is compromise and there is sacrifice. To those who don’t understand it, you have to know ‘it is a big difference’. On the surface, it sounds like I made a career choice which is partly true. I was going to be a middle aged woman living with a man in a pretty house underneath a green hill where his backyard extended to, with an abundance of space where horses could run and a firewood stove burning through the night not like what my mom used to have but like the houses in stories. Open sky, thousands of stars, skylight in the bedroom. Being chauffeured in a fancy car to the town. This was some girl’s fairy tale. That girl may have been me. But, I have come so far to settle at this stage of my life, to not be offered an option and to only be a companion to someone else’s loneliness. To be kept under oblivion about the future and to not receive back all the energy I have invested . My guts told me ‘not to’. If I did, I had nothing for me. I would have lost it all. 

We respect each other’s decision. I only regret one thing. Of never asking him on the first date ‘What was he looking for in a relationship? Did he want to be married in the future and have kids?  What was he willing to do for us?’.

‘I feel like he didn’t have a sense of us. It felt like this is your and it is mine’.  I vented to my friend after we broke up.

‘Exactly. I felt the same way’. She replied, having been in a relationship with an Englishman for 2 years and eventually broken up. 

Maybe there were cultural influences too, the subtle ones that were playing us in the background that we didn’t know of. 

‘Emotional growth and becoming emotionally an adult is eventually learning to face the hard truths and the hard realities, not running away from the inevitable undesired outcome and making the tough decisions even though it may hurt for a while. Having the courage to be emotionally mature hurts but not forever. It hurts only for some time and when you recover you would have become wiser, become more self aware about things you previously did not know about yourself, from lessons learnt from those experiences and you’ll grow emotionally.’ My other friend said, word for word. 

I have a group of such emotionally mature intelligent friends who are willing to understand, empathise and analyse both the sides of the story. Like me, they are respectful of his decision too. He had to stand up for what he wanted too. We have to be selfish, it is important to love yourself first to give love to the other. The decision was right. For him and for me. Now, I have more sky over my head to roam about than on the field where horses could run. 

Was this musing anywhere talking about women in career or decisions in relationships a modern woman today chooses? I don’t know. Standing up for job, personal and family life sounds like one. Doesn’t it? 16 years olds are getting married and settling down. Why can’t I? Why can’t we? Just get to agree, or agree with your partner right? Is it wrong to be not 18 or 20 anymore and be a passionate individual looking for a soul mate but wanting to lead an independent life with a uterus? 

The problems don’t  end there. My colleague tells me, at the airport she was stopped by the officials asking her to show the documents that her children were hers and she was not kidnapping them. ‘Because they have their father’s surname’, she said. ‘And it’s especially hard if it’s interracial children because I look very different to them’. 

‘What will you do?’ My friend queried me recently on a similar subject, ‘With your surname? Are you going to change it?’

‘I don’t want to’, was my reply. ‘I went through all that, through the medical school to put a Doctor on my title and my parents/ my family put up with me for all these years and now, when I am finally  established I have to give it away?’

‘You could use your family name to practice medicine  and adopt your husband’s on others? Double barrelled names are weird and too long. It’s a torture for kids. Unless your last name is Dick. Imagine being a urologist and the nurse announces Dr Dick will be here shortly to see you. Then you can change you last name as soon as you get married’.

‘Modern day women’ are difficult to keep up with. And we don’t deny that. We think of us, our future, our needs too in a relationship. If that is not acceptable and not something you thought you might have to compromise for, you ‘sir’ are not for us. Its easy to say, easy to promise, hard to action. Those 16 years old didn’t have much to consider at that age than what we have to consider now. 

I read a quote once on the internet.  ‘You can choose your husband. But your kids can’t choose their father’.

Our decisions are not from the heat of the moment but from intuition, premonition and thousands of years of natural evolution. They shaped from choosing the biggest and powerful alpha males of the clan with their sturdy appearance and ability to fight;  to also the artists, musicians, philosophers and dancers with petite slender bones over time. Our needs of physical security evolved with less threats of the wild animals and the calamities to present day where emotional securities have become more important. It is grinded in us, in our chromosomes and in our instincts. And as simple as men may think it is, it actually is not.

And as much as it breaks heart, it is one life and a big decision, to not think objectively. Here is me being honest, if a woman left you for someone else despite saying she loves you, I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt that she was honest. But she had to choose to make you a chapter and not a whole book. I don’t doubt it was a very difficult decision for her but ‘there is a difference between a compromise and a sacrifice’. A Queen only sacrifices her crown for a king. A vision for a vision, a devotion for a devotion. It’s all or none. Castles are filled with jokers. She knows, Jokers will come and go, what are you?