Stuck in a maze.

I feel a little schizophrenic. One moment, words do not suffice to express the depth of my gratitude for being where I am today. The next, I wish I had played my cards a little differently. I have an extreme distaste for lamenting but often there are times when I find myself doing the aforementioned.

I have chosen the difficult path- to be a doctor. This is my ultimate goal in life: to provide service to those who need it with utmost precision and care, with a balance of professionalism and compassion. Why should the rest matter? My childhood dream was to further my studies in Sydney, and an opportunity was created for me by my parents, who financed my year 11 and 12 studies. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, that dream was short-lived.

Perhaps this is all part of God’s plan for me.

Somehow, I feel as though the doubts and insecurities that linger in me have formed this barricade, preventing me from reaching out to God. Evening mass on Saturdays have become a mundane routine for me, and more often than not, I find myself going out of obligation rather than genuine eagerness to get to know the Lord. It doesn’t help when evening mass feels so…conventional. There is nothing wrong with seeking God as a congregation but like fingerprints, no one person is the same- I prefer to do so alone. One to one: like a child and a parent, a student and a mentor, a sheep and its shepherd. I miss the comfort of just sitting on a bench alone in Kenso Church, and seeking refuge from daily distractions just by being still. I loved how the light found its way inside the Church through the stained glass, making everything glow with a kind of glory.

I digress.

Right now, I am stuck in a maze and I’m pacing back and forth with consternation and I fear I am spiritually dried up.
I’ve deferred offers to do BMSci from USYD, UNSW and UTS, and I’ve indirectly declined the offer to do medicine in Penang Medical College. I recently found out that I have been offered a place to do BSci in the National University of Singapore, an indirect way of informing me that my application to do medicine in NUS was unsuccessful. This was to the dismay of many, although nothing was expressly stated. So, things are set. I am going to IMU to do the Partner Medical School undergraduate (graduate route) medicine programme and the fees are sky high. Sometimes I feel as though it is an inevitable fact that money is the ultimate discriminator. You have the money? You can further your studies in your preferred university. You don’t? Too bad, settle for second best. Only the very lucky and fortunate few can obtain scholarships and statistics prove that the odds are stacked against me.

I find it difficult to explain to people how I feel about where I am at the moment. None of my family members/ relatives took this path, none in the medical line of profession. And friends seem more like acquaintances nowadays so it’ll be pretty selfish of me to bombard anyone with all of this and more out of the blue. Everyone’s already burdened with their own problems- I cannot afford to add on to their load.

Anyway, recent experiences have confirmed that- the world is a harsh place. That’s reality. Gone are the days when politicians took pride in the role that they play and when they had high regard for the trust of unsuspecting citizens. Gone are the days when politicians did not exploit the sympathy of citizens towards a terminally ill cancer patient who is blind AND paralysed due to a brain tumor to gain the favour of the public. Gone are the days when most or all neighbours were considerate and in favour of politeness. Gone are the days when immigration officials treated all citizens with equal respect irrespective of race and religion. Gone are the days when relevant authorities did not deliberately state the religion of many Chinese Christians as “BUDDHA” just to alter the statistics of the number of Christians in a country. Many have left for better developed countries e.g. UK, Australia, in pursuit of true justice and equality in their lives. Parents endure long work hours to earn the money to ensure their children are able to live better lives overseas. Often, I wonder if there is any reason for me to remain and serve here if I were to be a doctor. And then… I think of the innocent people. The people who are completely unaffiliated with the actions of a government whose system is so entrenched with corrupt values. They suffer when the only crime they committed is following the laws of the country as law abiding citizens. If all the good people (people equipped with skills of a highly qualified medical practitioner, lawyers who speak for those who can’t, leaders who lead with true passion for their people) left this country, any grain of hope is lost. I wish to see changes in my country. Maybe it won’t happen in my parents’ time or mine, but I believe it will one day. I was born and raised here, so I hope that I can be part of that change I want to see, however little it may be.

So many questions left unanswered. But maybe it’s because I haven’t been looking in the right place.


I need to pluck up the courage to knock on that door with equanimity and ASK. GOD, I cannot do this on my own. Please, hold my hand and lead me to where you want me to be.

"It's okay to go."

“It’s okay to go.” These were the words I spoke in my heart as I held his hand.

Somehow, I think he heard it too. I felt the warmth slowly leave his hand.

He was ready.

As we prayed our silent prayers, I was overwhelmed with grief but ultimately, a sense of relief. He could finally free himself of the disease he’s been grappling with all these years. I tried holding back my tears but they just flowed endlessly. I knew this day would come from the moment I was told he was too weak to go to the palliative care home to be massaged. But the reality of it all took a while to sink into me. As I watched the nurses take charge and report his time of death, I took a deep breath, bit my tongue to hold back the tears and looked into his son’s eyes. I told him, “We all prayed for him. He shed a tear and closed his eyes.” I could see the gratitude in his eyes. He told us his father always felt better and free spirited after his weekly visits to the PCA home. I feel a little better knowing that the little things we do for them in the short amount of time that they have left makes a difference. I’ve never physically witnessed someone die before my eyes and the contradiction between the feelings of grief and relief. In retrospect, I believe everything that has happened to me, happened for a reason. I cannot fulfill my dream of studying in Sydney but I gained something else- the opportunity to be an instrument of God’s mercy and love, the opportunity to provide comfort to others, however little it is. I am thankful to be where I am today.

What I experienced today only reaffirmed my dream of becoming a doctor.

B

Today’s one of those days when I feel completely invigorated and inspired. I feel like I’ve been tagged, and now, “I’m it” to pass on the insight I’ve gained today. So I’ve been volunteering at the Palliative Care Association for the past 4 months now, and I’ve done a couple of rounds at the hospital palliative care unit ward. On some days, you meet patients who are withdrawn and unable to accept their situation. Frankly, you cannot blame them. On other days, however, you meet patients who are so open about their life experiences and despite being plagued with chemotherapy, countless operations, nausea and the weakening effects of cancer, refuse to conform to the stereotype of depressed patients.

I met a truly amazing person (B*name concealed for confidentiality purposes) at the ward today. B told us he is not disheartened by the fact that he has been diagnosed with cancer. B pointed out the fact that there are others who live with plastic tubes that function as their intestines and the fact that he still has his intestines makes him a real lucky guy: “Semua itu tension. Saya buang saja. Orang yang sihat pun, bila jatuh dalam longkang, tumpang juga. Saya sakit, sakit lah, tapi masih hidup juga. Doktor tanya saya apa saya buat di rumah, duduk di rumah saja kah? Mana ada. Saya pandu kereta di seluruh Papar lagi oh. Mana ada masa mau duduk di rumah! Tuhan kasih kami ini peluang untuk hidup, kami harus hargainya bah.” (Translation: All the tension [cancer-related stress], I threw it all away. Even falling into a drain can be fatal for healthy people. I’m sick. So what? But I’m still alive. The doctor asked me what I do at home, whether I just sit around at home. Of course not! I still drive my car around the whole of Papar [a town]! There’s no time to just sit around at home! God gave us this chance to live- we should appreciate it [emphasis given].)

We decided to bring him over to the association meeting place to have lunch with the other patients and volunteers. He was a blessing in disguise. He spoke of his life stories to other patients, and it initiated a good conversation amongst them. They reminisced about their old days, during the Japanese invasion, their arranged marriages and how their kids have all grown up into respectful adults. He made living with an energy draining disease sound so pellucid. He really had a way with words and charmed us with his ability to speak in numerous languages, namely, Hokkien, Iban, English, Malay, and Kadazan. He picked these languages up whilst conversing with people from all walks of life throughout his career as a labourer in various countries: Brunei, Malaysia, and Singapore. This is truly remarkable given his pure Dusun roots!

This opened my eyes a little. A problem that may seem larger than life is really, miniscule compared to the vastness of this world and our ability to bounce back and fight our own doubts and insecurities. All it takes is a healthy mind set. This was what I learned today. And I hope others too- will try to view the daily issues we face from a different frame of reference.

Now, “TAG-YOU’RE IT!”