A More Beautiful Me.

I don't really put too much effort in my outward appearance because my philosophy is that what's inside matters more plus sometimes I can't be bothered. Since I'm not pursuing a career as a flight attendant I thought otherwise. I realise I should start taking care of myself. There's nothing stopping me. Ever since my teenage years, my once flawless complexion was plagued with unsightly pimples. As any other teenager would I tried everything in the market but nothing worked. I remember my mum bringing home a new herbal product every week but alas! nothing worked. It was so frustrating. I guess I gave up after that. My skin improved slightly but it could be better. I'm going organic, all natural. I'm no longer a skin product junkie. I'm optimistic. I've realised that these things do matter. How you look determines who you marry, if you get picked on in school, your confidence level to mention a few aspects......Hopefully mine will be a success story that I can share next year (fingers crossed.) Wish me luck.

All I want for Christmas..

You know those days when you're just out of luck, well today I had one of those. I won't bore you with all the details. All you need to know is that I left school with nothing intact (including my mind). There's never a dull day I tell you. What's new with me? Nothing much. I'm thinking of getting a new haircut, maybe a tattoo :p I'm not yet there. And you know how they say you can't be in university and not cheat. Well that's true. I will not disclose any further details. I'm spending countless hours thinking of the short break from school. Trying not to worry too much about exams. But one thing I don't look forward to is Christmas. To put it simply, I do not like how I've spent it in the past few years. It's been mundane and very boring. I also hate the feeling of the year coming to an end before I can do everything I planned to. It doesn't help that everywhere I go there's trees, lights, santa............As a kid, this was the best holiday ever. I remember the excitement for new clothes that we'd wear to church on Xmas morning (we got new clothes once a year). After, we ate and drank and enjoyed ourselves and then some. I miss our traditions which have gradually died as we've all grown older. I miss decorating the house for Xmas(who bothers these days). We'd watch the same film every year (Home Alone). It didn't seem weird back then. We had fun! It was true Christmas spirit. Maybe, I've forgotten the true meaning of Christmas. I guess I have to find a new way for the older me to enjoy Christmas. This year, all I want for Christmas is a quiet day. I just want a simple, low key day with immediate family (and a galaxy tablet maybe :) Then I'll feel very fulfilled. Finally, Please Nominate my Blog for BAKE awards :) here.  Enjoy the public Holiday.

The Fresher Dating Scene

Today at lunch my friends and I decided to survey the  'Fresher's dating scene'. "....when you're studying something like medicine, its always good to have a shoulder to cry on", a doctor recently said to me. All I can say at this point is that my fellow comrades are fast when it comes to finding companions. There are several couples on campus. Only God knows whether they will last or if they are for convenience. Don't be shocked, there are relationships for convenience. Why, you ask. You see, fresher life is difficult to put it simply. In other words, freshers are always broke. Even I have not been spared. It sucks. My wallet makes me want to cry whenever I open it. Even worse the parents are not on my side when I need them most. Yaani, I've learned the value of ten shillings. Back to the issue. Yes, campus dating scene. There are the infatuated ones who already look like they're married. No kidding. There's a couple that usually sits infront of me and I could already picture them as a married couple. It's that serious. Mind you, it's week 10. Then there are some who are just in a relationship for the sake. I guess they want to be noticed or something. Then there are the flirtatious type. I'm talking about boys and girls that flirt with everyone of the opposite sex. I see a girl giving sensual hugs to different guys every morning. Same girl. I guess I'm just not used to that. Did I say that I was in Catholic School for over a decade. Yes, and it's a story for another day. Then there are the single ladies like myself who will not date any freshers. Why you ask, one, I have a whole six years. What's the rush? I'll take my time before diving in. Plus the concept of having to see someone everyday, text them, "getting to know them"......It gives me a migraine. I'd rather spend my time getting to know our cadaver better. Atleast he's very cooperative and everyday with him is an interesting one for sure. Finally, wasee wamechapa. I will not expound further. Anyway we'll see how this dating thing works out. But currently, I'm not up for vetting any candidates. In good time, I'll be ready. Anyway, enjoy your weekend guys!!

Hiccups

Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Murphy's Law could not have applied any better in my life. I had bad week. My mood was like the weather we've been receiving. They say that sometimes you have it and other times you don't. By it, I mean control over your life. This week I found myself reminiscing on happier times, my childhood. When I didn't worry or so much. When I could wake up and every day was a new day. A clean slate. I found myself wishing that I had a shoulder to cry on then I felt very silly about crying. I tried to reason but I couldn't think. But somehow I managed to keep it all together and get through the week............... I like to think that I'm a strong person. I've been through a lot these past two years and for some reason I found myself wondering why and when the rain started to beat me. I thought of all the hiccups and challenges and questioned myself. The worst thing was that I couldn't understand why I was so down................. Then today I got to thinking that everyone has their problems. Mine are not bigger than anyone else's. We all have our issues. Hiccups and hurdles are everywhere in this life. We just have to find our way to overcome them by fighting back. It's not about how hard you fall but how high you bounce back up. I'm sorry I'm always complaining but I just needed to get this off my chest. Hopefully in the process someone's encouraged to keep going. Enjoy Your Weekend Everyone!

Random

Man, I'm exhausted. I've been procrastinating and postponing my next blog post for almost two weeks now. Not that I hate to write it's just the time. I feel like I need 48 hours everyday because 24 is just too little. I'm always compaining about my limited time. The day I actually have enough time, now that will be news. I wake up, read, pass out. Then get back to reading. It's the circle of med school. I'm not exaggerating you know. Life is like this:

And it's not even funny. Which reminds me, I've been thinking about the future. My future. See, I have a time frame under which I get my career going , get married, have kids in that order. But see I will be in my thirties before any of these are possible. Now, that I can't happen. I might as well forget about kids. Another problem is, who's going to marry me in my thirties. This is all wrong. The only solution is to start looking for a potential candidate now so that I'm set in a few years. I don't know. I just don't want to die alone.

Birthday.

As I get older, the more forgetful I become of things like dates, people's names and even my birthday. Yesterday morning after I took part in push and shove to get into a matatu, I realised that my birthday was coming up in two days. I remember how birthdays were a big deal for me. How special I felt if people actually remembered. I'd remind everyone I knew. I needed a card, call, cake or else......Now, the only plans I have include an overdue salon visit and a hot date with Moore and Gray(textbooks). The strangest thing is that I can't be bothered. I'm very indifferent. I guess I'm growing older. I don't need gifts to make me happy or special. I won't base my happiness on trivial material things. That I think is wisdom which is most important. But this doesn't mean I won't accept gifts. That won't change.

So You Want To Be A Medic...

I'm just close to a month into the course but I think I can pass a thing or two on to those planning or preparing to get into the course. MBChB that is. First, all the rumors you hear out there are probably true. Within the past one month, I've done more reading than I've done the whole year. This I did not complain about because I was told that I'd practically be living in the library for the next few years. What no one told me was about the disappointment I would feel after sitting for my first test. I contemplated drowning my sorrows in a bottle of vodka. It just did not make any sense after all the reading. I've also been spending a lot of time in the dissection lab. As a result, my clothes stink such that on lab days, my dad makes me sit in the back, even with the AC on. I see how much he dreads picking me. Formalin is part and parcel of the lab. I don't think my non-med friends would want to hang around me in the near future. And if you thought the teachers in High School were mean because they gave you weekend homework, I'm not sure what you'd think of the lecturers here. You'll have a whole new perspective of the word 'mean'.
You still think you'll find time to go out for 'Blankets and Wine' or enjoy a movie with your friends. Think again. You're not studying for a BA (Bachelors of Being Around), a lecturer once told us. Your time will be spent getting to know Ganong, Lehninger, Snell, Last's and others. (These are names of authors). You'll start refering to them like you know them personally. Our daily conversations go like, "Lehninger said..." .....Finally, I came into this course with the obvious long term goal to be a trained medic. That's changed. My goal is to get to second-year. There's no guarantee. Getting to there is an achievement. They say that's when you can call yourself a medical student. Despite this, I'm happy to be here. I'm neither complaining nor trying to discourage anyone. Follow your dreams and work hard.
I feel inspired to quote Maya Angelou, "If your dreams don't scare you, they're probably not big enough."

Epic.

Have you ever met someone who took your breath away. Someone who mesmerised you. Someone who made you loose your concentration and even forget the place, the time or what you were doing. The way they carry themselves calls out to you and grabs your attention with or without your consent. I have heard of people who light up a room just by their presence but I never believed it. Today I can say that I'm a believer. He walked into the room with an air of confidence. Not superiority or pride. Just the right amount of ego. I'd never seen him before. He wasn't in our class. He looked too knowledgable for a first year. I was surprised to see him walk to our dissection table. He began to talk and I listened. His voice was clear. His tone relaxed. At this point in time, to say that I drifted away would be an understatement. I didn't care about any dissection. I think the feeling was the same with the females on our table. We even ended up mutilating some structures. He was year ahead of us. He gave us advice and asked about our experience so far. He was smart and great with conversation. Perfect. When the time came for him to leave, I felt like I would miss him. I didn't want him to leave. The thought of never seeing him again.....I decided to follow and ask him to come back again. But my legs failed me. Getting back to work mode was difficult. He disoriented me. But I'm not complaining. I came to the conclusion that maybe it was best I didn't have him in my dissection group.

Of A First Experience With A Cadaver.

Cadaver. The word is cold. It sends shivers down your spine and makes your mind conjure up morbid thoughts or images of dead bodies lying in a morgue. You think of a horror movie, maybe even skeletons. At least that's what I thought. If you're wondering what I'm going on about, well, I saw a cadaver, touched it and even did some cutting. Something I never thought I could stomach. I even managed to have lunch afterward without the thought of throwing up crossing my mind. Back to my story, the time was twelve in the afternoon on Wednesday this week. Approximately 200 of us stood outside the anatomy lab, eager to see what awaited us, knowing that this was a moment we would never forget. I wondered how I would react. Would I faint at the first sight, shed tears or run out screaming? Would I have nightmares after this and be left traumatized? There was no turning back now. The atmosphere was tense you could cut through it with a knife.Names were called and we went in and got into our respective groups. Afterward, we introduced ourselves to each other. This was an ice-breaker and from then on things began run smoothly. Then it was time to open up the cadaver. Together we pulled back the layers covering it. It was a male. I couldn't see his face though. That would make it too real. We took turns with the scapel and began to cut up 'our patient'. Despite the choking stench we kept going. Eventually it felt like I was just cutting up meat not a human body. Throughout, I wondered who he had been....someone's brother, boyfriend, son. I wondered how and why he ended up in an anatomy lab. However I appreciated the opportunity to learn from him. At the end of the session, I didn't want to leave. I had enjoyed my day. Me, stinking of Formalin, enjoying my time with a cadaver. Who would have thought.

Why I hate driving.

See, today I almost got into three separate accidents. One of which could have been serious. I like to think I'm a very good driver, it's the rest of humanity I worry about. I long for the days when I was a fresh on the road. I was more relaxed then. I still remember the day I enrolled into Wings driving school next my mum's office (I have humble beginnings). Everyday I diligently made my way to class despite being turned away on several occasions (see, they had only one car/instructor). I also still remember the day I took my test. I recall the very uncomfortable journey where around sixty of us were bundled into the back of a lorry hadi Thika road...the fear I felt as I did the theory, the relief after I was done and the elation when I passed and later got my license. I was a young driver equipped for the road or so I thought. Let's just say I was bullied. It was traumatic. It had me thinking that maybe I should have gone to AA instead of a juakali driving school. Eventually I found my bearing and fear became a thing of the past. But 5 months later, I'm tired. I'm almost fed up of the hours spent looking for parking (while kanjo wait for the right moment to clamp me), I'm tired of the 14-seaters  and the likes of probox drivers who get my blood pressure up and make my blood boil because all these things come with driving. Sometimes I wish I carried a gun in my handbag. I'm sure I wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Anyway I realise that on the road everyday is a learning experience. Sometimes it can be brutal. I guess I need to come to terms with that. 

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Lecturers Strike

You know you're in public uni when the lecturers go on strike for an indefinite period and don't give a crap about how it affects your life. We students are usually the collateral damage when lecturers and the government disagree. We discovered this today when a very rowdy bunch of them bearing twigs and sticks stormed into the hall and kicked us out of class. Terrified and confused, we grabbed our belongings and headed for the exits not sure of what to do next. I previously thought that such occurrences were just rumours. Not anymore. So a cloud of uncertainty hangs over us. I hear this could take a week, two or worse, a month.

Back To School

I hated that phrase back in High school. I hated the day before school most for many reasons but mainly because I would never finish my homework on time. So I would trans-night and burn the midnight oil writing notes and essays on the night before. I cannot remember ever having a full night's sleep the night before school in all my years. Opening day was just as bad if not worse because I'd enter class but alas! there was so much had not done. Things were thick! Sometimes I would vumilia to do what I could but there were some rough times when I had to visit the chapel to seek divine intervention and pray for a miracle because otherwise I would find myself in school on a Saturday(detention). The latter was a very tricky situation because I'd have to explain to my father why I did not finish work that I'd been given four weeks to finish. If I managed to toboa week one, I'd always promise to do my work on time but I never quite got round to doing that. Sometimes I think if I put as much effort in my studies as I  did during those few days, I'd have done much better in school. Anyway, hopefully I can find that motivation in Uni. So anyway, today was our first day of class or it was supposed to be. No first day could end without its ups and downs. Today I learned that keeping time is a foreign concept in public Uni. I did not get the memo thus I was on campus by 7.30 am. The lecturers were also on strike. If I were in High School, this would be cause for celebration. The Irony. How times change. Why am I unhappy? I'm looking at a good six years in Uni. I don't think I can make it to seven.They did not show up as promised last week. But luckily a really good teacher/lecturer showed up to save the day and teach us some basics. Anyway, hopefully there'll be a change tomorrow. Fingers Crossed.  

Monday Blues

So Registration began on Monday Morning. I wake up early but end up leaving home at like ten a.m. Before I leave, mum makes it a point to give me yet another mini-lecture. 'Don't be lazy, join drug dealers or 'campus divas'. You could get killed you know', she says. That done, I make my way to the uni and the line is crazy. I decide to go to the bank first then worry about the line later. I take a matatu to town and head to the bank. It's two in the afternoon. Nothing to worry about. I'll make it on time..................... Warning: Please forgive me because I'm about to rant. An hour later, I'm still in the same position in-line. Getting impatient. Good thing I have a novel in my bag. I start reading but only get to page three. The damn line is not moving at all. I'm wondering why do banks have like eight counters and only two tellers? At the rate these guys are going I'm considering looking for another bank but it's too late. Feeling more positive, I get back to my reading. Yet another hour goes by and I'm not even near the front of the queue. That's two precious hours of my life I'll never get back. I wish I could pay someone to line up for me. Now I'm getting mad. I'll definitely write some nasty comment in their suggestion box. When I finally get to the front of the line, the teller tries to make small talk. Not today dude. The only line worse than this would be the KPLC line. Who makes people wait for three hours to make a deposit? Apparently this bank. Finally done. I walk out and it just had to start raining. Anyway, to cut this long story short, I didn't make it in time.

A Fresh Start

Hi. I'm Lynn. I'm joining Uni in about two days and I thought this(blog) would be a perfect way to share my good (and bad)experiences. So Uni? The place where partying all night and sleeping all day is a perfectly acceptable way of life. I'm yet to find out. One thing's for sure, I'll let you  in on it.

Lynn.