♥ Drama Queen ♥

Sunday, January 17, 2016

sususafifi sweet 16

it has been nearly a yr since I have blogged,
I am not very sure if much has changed, But much has happened,
the much awaited Professional 3,
the licensing,
the getting a real job,
the real office,
and the separation.

i did it all.
i went thru it all.

And as my clinical hipnotisician said,
Our mind has its own firewall, and it walls up things you dont like. SO If my juniors were to ask me about my exams, how I felt? How i went thru it?
I'd reply, dekatkan diri to Allah.

All my passes were from Allah.
I dont take any credit.

and If you think tht ur gona get this I kinda license, ur wrong,
ur Houseman license is this huge A4 paper..hahaha..
so spoil!

my imagination: *mcm polis keluarkan badge* HERE's My License!
real life: *bukak lipat2 kertas besar, mcm scroll*


for now,
t-5 days to graduation evryone!

Saturday, May 2, 2015


as u can see,
the last post,
was actually posted today,
and NOT on nana's bday.
well later and beyonddd her birthday.
considering its may oready. a well ripe 4 months post ina's 24th.

and thats how fast time flies.
i can hardly remember the last time i tapped my fingers on this laptop of mine,
an looking thru my instapictures the other day (refering to this random day back in the days of boredom, which is,.....err... a long time since surgery---n iv been in surgery for a week already now!!)

times flies.
and comparing my short years, to great scholars lik Bukhari, whom by 21 had already published 2 books, i feel so little.

Though leaning more and more to 25, i reflect back n ponder upon things that i have for years let it slip thru my fingers. so the renewal of niat every day has been a very pivotal change in my life. I have seen its effect on my life insyaAllah.

may we all achieve more and higher greatness than we are currently at, all for the sake of our hereafter as part of our responsibility of Khalifatullah-ard (The vicegerent of Allah). Reflecting back to the conference I attended last week on Game Changer by Light upon Light,
it is vital that we all do change for the betterment of ourselves and on whole, towards the betterment of the ummah.

a Dua one of the alim once recited was," Oh Allah, forgive my sins tht have impacted the ummah,"
this basing on the principle that the ummah is one body and we all impact each other, be it that we are close to each other or seperated by the pacific ocean.
Truly, the dua made by the Alim shows the conciousness of him to the ummah, beside the normal dua we make daily to forgive the sins and to help the ummah in dire need of help.

may all our lives be filled with barakah to be concious not only for our parents, family and friends, but for all mankind, as the ummah of Rasulullah is not only the Muslims but all mankind. A thing we kinda forget at times.

and the countdown continues to the big Pros of 122 days :)

Thursday, January 29, 2015

7.Friends in Islam - Powerful Reminder - Mufti Menk

its khamis malam now.
i mean,
asr just azan-ed,

its time for alkahf till tomoro.

as i research stuff for my mom in uia.
as i hv been doin for years,
i stumble upon this youtube post by mufti menk.
and its a good share in a world full of friends.

another video i found
by young muslims project

and by ustaz nouma ali khan
about companionship


i guess,
at the end of the day,
maybe even tho im a pure extrovert,
hanging out with a whole bunch of introverts,
it turned me into an intriguin introvert.
sometimes, even conflicting my own self.
but nonetheless, always teaching me something always.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015


the time im supposed to finish m case presentation.
which i havent even scratched the surface.


u noe those days tht u just dont have the mood to do anything.
well today is tht day.

being an extrovert sucks to tht point cos we get affected by moods and emotions.
not to say introverts are senseless and insensitive, but they normally control their tots and feelings in order to survive.
we tho, follow the flow.

emergency medicine has been fine.
right until this point.
its still cool.
i still love standing and making myself busy to endless hope with stuff.
tht even when i told my mom tht i wud b early to fetch her from work, early was still late.
i get carried away in hospital.

sometimes things get awkward.
but if u loved each other.
tht awkwardnss would be chomel.

the clouds werent supposed to shroud my rays of sunshine,
but there are times,
i just feel human,
especially wen i lose my kryptonite.


i noe my kryptonite shud be with the Almighty,
and it is.
but at times,
there are kryptonites that have been thrown on earth tht i inhale as gas to keep me alive.
im gona b twenniefive, n im giving senseless superman metaphors when im not even half the woman of a superman.

but the fact is still the fact.

i still need to convince myself tht,
ego set aside,
i have my flaws.
and should be entirely grateful for those around me.
to stick around me with my bad tudung days,
flasher skirt days,
floppy shoe days
and whiny childish days.
on top of all tht,
im such an embarassment with my exudative loudness of a voice.

but hey.
God dint put me in ur life for no reason,
and vice versa!

live and let live.

"i am a destination, not a stop a long the way" said Blair.
needless for her to noe, we all eventually come to an end,
and how can a destination be so perfect if it were to have an end.
a person is more like a journey if u ask me.
with their ups and downs.and their screams and shouts.

ive gotta set my ego aside.
hug it out and maybe tear it up.

tho i have gotta say its not my ego so much at times.
its more of the time i have in my hands in this super busy posting. (yeah busy giler till i have blogged lik 5 times since. lol)

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

khomsah-usrah across borders

"Islam appreciates that everyone has their potentials and goodness,
we are supposed to use ours to the max. lik urs, u pandai socialize"

it has been awhile since i have gone to usrah in uni,
and to ask whether i missed it, i have to say, i miss it thoroughly.

yes, i have awesome moments with my belovd lunchgang and bestie,
but, the spirit of sitting down together, coming from all kinds of places to talk and share about the religion, is beautiful. to learn about things I sincerely, either forgotten or dint know, is a privilage.

I had been down for a couple of days now,
not that ud appreciate it (mayb bcos its just that time of the month but nonetheless,), because i had practically been running around the Emergency department tryin my best (which isnt the best enough) to be useful whenever possible. hehe.

so whenever I am low, i seek youtube for an instant cure.
I was previously in love with Syeikh Omar Suleimans' lectures. but i finished watching all the short ones (i dont normally watch the 1 hr ones, my max is abt 40 mins)
but now im rather intrigued by Nouman Ali Khan (NAK). I had always thought of him as this overrated ustaz.
but his tafseer. well subhanallah. has been awesome.
they have been accompanying me through the jams.

and today of all days,
i was stuck in a two hour jam.
i felt so bad that mimi had to wait for me (which made her late too =.=")
but yes, it was my fault.
i kinda underestimated time. i have been goin thru alot of that nowadays.

so i was sad, depressed and down.
thinking partially that Allah is just testing me.

but lol.
strange enough, i stumbled upon this NAK lecture that was all about "why do bad things happen"
NAK said in his khutbah,"you do not have a license to go around telling people (or urself) that hey look..u did this wrong..thts y Allah is punishing u"
spot on.
like it was in my face.
continuing to that, it is said that Allah actually tegurs the men of uhud that had made them lost at battle.
lik. err. double spot on.
hahahaahah.which means...things in life...cn go rong bcos of urself...
but the beauty of the relationship with Allah is that...He loves u nonetheless.

goin back home as i laid on my bed to sleep,
i scrolled tumblr, after not doin that for a long long time.
I found this equation, that it seems humans are lik metals.
and all the characteristics of metal were listed,
its durability, ductality and malleability. i then forwarded this to eka.
guess what? she was just discussing the same hadith to her usrahmates the weekend of last.

she then concluded for me the hadith.
and her last sentence was the bomb

'if Allah wants a goodness for a person, then He will give him understanding of the deen"

may we all always be surrounded by people with the understanding of the deen


If i had telepathy with my besties.
It surely is by Allah's will.
He surely planned it all the way it sure is.

and with that, I lay myself to peace and rest.

hopefully waking up well tomoro. and leaving home by 630 and not troubling anyone. 
so as much as i wana write more.
i need to zzz off. nytenyte world of emergency medicine. u sure are one ride for me.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

ch’vors- a short story.

"Who's pasta is that dad?" 
"Have it," dad piered through the glass window.

A scoop of the greasy yellow hair angel pasta colored with green and red capsicum awakened tastebuds and tamed the rumbles of a starved tummy after a long day of brain draining, weight bearing day.


College isnt just the 8-5 shizzles of long desks in the air conditioned classrooms, but consist of tagging and running around from buildings and clerking patients. Not to mention the OTs (doesn’t matter la if it's Over time or the operation theatres) and BSTs (read: bedsideteachings not bedtimes song time) lol.
It's medical school, and final year, everyone is planning graduation trips, study dates and life of settling down. On top of the already stressful every other month exams that have become so bread and butter of life (I prefer waffles and pancakes anyday, so you see the problem?). Everyone has their cliques, their partners and their other halves. Not me.


The next day, when I came back home, the angel haired pasta was thrown into the dustbin, the whole pack of it. As if the only person that had taken it was me. As if I had contaminated the pack that it needed to be thrown away. Well, that was just the paranoid me talking.

Dad wasnt home for me to ask anything, usual for him to be away for days, and seen once in a week or so. But oddly enough, I remembered Daniel was complaining of hunger just the night before, did Ibu deny Daniel from the delicious pasta? Surely Ibu wasnt the type to cook pasta, since this household never has olive oil, what more capsicum and fresh olives that was still fresh in my mind of its texture in my mouth.

Ibu wasnt around either.
Well, not that I saw.
It was Sunday after all.

So i continued Primary Care OSCEs as i watched it on my Ipad Mini dad had bought me last month to gear me for Pro III. Lazily I sat on the couch, of course with the Plasma TV dad had bought Ibu last month, obviously.

"Why did you buy her an ipad? Doesnt she already have the tab?" Ibu asked casually over breakfast.
"La...that is an old one," Dad answered casually over his newspaper.
"But it's still working," Ibu rebutted.
I wasnt entirely comfortable of this situation.
"Do you not find it more useful and compatible with all your other apple products Nak?" Dad looked piered at me with a smile.
I nodded simply, as Ibu had already turned her back towards me.
I could imagine her smug face, dissatisfied.

The next week, I saw the Plasma TV complete with all kinds of features I'd never learn how to use (not that I have the time or energy nor interest to learn it) in the living room with my very excited little step brother Daniel jumping with his nintendo (or whatever you call-a-majiggy) installed to it.

"Im hungry! Im hungry!" I heard Daniel scream.

I was startled, cause little did I notice, I was actually lullabied by YouTube, my legs sprawled on the couch. Darn. Ibu would be so upset.

"Wait! Im cooking!" Ibu trying to calm down Daniel; whom I think is kicking his might out, obviously making him more and more hungry.

The ventilation fans were then switched on, and i heard her arranging the kitchen. Most probably trying to cook up another nasi goreng for Daniel.

I dint want to interupt the commotion, but I had to pass the kitchen to get into my room, and the loud TV had to be silenced. (Okayh, I dint know it was loud, it dint sound loud earlier =.=") As I shut it down,

"Nak, please make sure the cushions are arranged back! If people were to come, we wouldnt want to leave a bad impression of our home would we?" Ibu called out to me.
"Okayh Ibu," I replied.
"Are you cooking Ibu?" I was trying to make conversation to ease the tension.
"Nothing much," Ibu as if shooing me away.


"Nak, where were you last Sunday?" dad asked me the next Friday evening.
I halted before going up.
"Oncall?" I raised an eyebrow.
My dad dint seem mad. He just sighed.

Dad was the type that wasn’t easily disappointed with me. Although I sometimes missed having him around, I also liked to be out and alone. Typical introvert I think (even the internet agrees) lol.

I grabbed a drink, I mean, living on the third floor seemed so far, even if I run 5 km effortlessly at the gym. The fridge full with fridge magnets Dad would buy for Ibu everytime he went anywhere. If it weren't a fridge magnet, some sort of momento that could be displayed on the magnet. Sometimes, multiple magnets from the same place. Evident with the extra magnetic boards Ibu bought from Ikea.
That's my kitchen. A typical Malay kitchen (minus the wooden para you would see in the kampongs and minus the obvious fridge magnet collection) with all the types of soy sauce, belacan, budu, tempoyak and cencaluk. Sometimes, I think Ibu just dreams of going to places but would nearly die if she did. Literally. The last time (which also happened to be the only time) she followed Dad overseas was to Turkey. Honestly, I'd go. But I wasn’t invited, it was their honey moon, and I was gona have SPM, Ibu was sick the entire time. It seems she tried some local cuisine, that tasted "funny" and the next thing we knew was, they were on the flight home earlier than the proposed date home. Turns out, she was just pregnant. Lol.

As I went up the stairs, I heard Dad as if in a whisper, "Didn’t you tell her?"
"Of course I did!" Ibu sounded defensive.
"I know Suzie is your good friend, but I know the son is a good boy, he's even starting his housemanship soon,"
"So?" Ibu dissatisfied.
"He cooks so well, she would love to meet him, did you even taste his pasta last week?"
"Oh that one?" smirked Ibu. Even if I dint see her face, I knew it too well.
"Why do you sound like that?"

I knew what happened.


"The Culinary Arts School is having their open day!" blared the boomboxes of uni.
White jackets were stancing around giving out fliers, with their tall hats and black boots.
The loud earphones blaring Ed Sheeran couldn’t stop the announcements. Instantaneously, I looked up.

"Just 30bucks," a short plum girl with white scarf in full Culinary arts regalia handed out a red leaflet.
I couldn’t help but smiling to this bright girl.
"It's a western menu, in our mock dining room, but nothing mocking about it, cos its real!"
I then laughed, standing in the middle of the corridor, shifting my iphone to the hand holding my white coat to take the leaflet. It intrigued me.
"Western?" my voice croaked, as if unsure what to say.
"Yes sir! We even have 'champagne'" she added with a wink.
She made me giggle.

The next Thursday, I found myself all by myself in my best dress, literally a dress, black like an abaya (okayh, it is some sort of an abaya, so that I could easily go for the yaseen recitation later that night, and Dad bought it for me from Dubai) in the mock dining room. I was the first to queue. Pardon me for being a little way too excited, and a little way too punctual.

The three course meal that started with handmade rolls and crafted butter was a delicacy for a carb lover like me. I had a table all to myself, all the rolls to myself. The appetizer was a crunchy salad that was tantalizing in colour that made my black abaya disown it's own color to be that every shade of the salad. Dressed with a special sauce made by the culinary arts students, something minty yet sticky in the midst of cherry tomatoes, baby lettuce, carrots and purple cabbage. I was back in the scenes of Essex where Dad brought me for my post-SPM trip. It was blissful. I literally could smell the crisp air, and could see dew drops at the ends of leaves as the morning mist arose to allow the sun to shine. Rabbits hopping out of their soiled rabbit holes. Followed by the housekeeping dogs barking the wits out of the rabbits back into their burrows. I was brought back to uni by the hot sizzling steak, juicy as the main course made me feel not fasting that day was worthing. Subhanallah. My thoughts then diverted to wondering what jannah would be like if this felt like heaven. If this world was just one rahmah of the many bouties of Allah, my praises to Allah must be even less than a needle head's capacity of the vast ocean. Dad had been busy these past few years, supposedly there was something big he was working on. Even Ibu complained at times. But he always kept me company through doa, if only Ibu could appreciate Dad in that manner too, well, she gets the moolah. Okayh la. Lol.  Mak always lullabyed my with selawat and asma ul husna to sleep. Reminding me that Dad was busy working for us. The smell of butter in her hair would nearly always make me sleep licking my lips, smacking to the imagination of food. The dessert was sweet delicate crème brulee, even if it wasn’t my favourite, it was Mak's. Mak would have commented on its texture and guessed the number of spoons of sugar used to caramalize the 'brulee' of the crème brulee. Mak knew everything there was about western food, in this eastern culture. I just am not confident enough to say I inherited that. And with that Kampong of a kitchen at home, the smell of mozarella grilling will make Ibu have fits of frenzy. even if the cure to AGE (acute grastroenteritis or stomach ache/pain/flu) was just oral rehydrating salts and plenty of water, she'd boil that water in her head with fury anyways. Lol. I missed Mak. I missed walking down to the kitchen and decorating cakes with my sloppy mess and my spilling pizza topping over her counter top. But when the renovation to the kitchen home happened, all seemed to vanish. As I looked through the glass countertop to the hot steaming kitchen. I imagined walking in.

"You can do the twinning course in PJ, then continue in UK, the fees arent so bad." Dad tried burning my spirit.
I just looked through the brochures Dad had found on my desk. It was the last month of school. And SPM seemed so unawaited for as I wanted to get it over and done with.
"We can use your trials to get a place, I know they'd be honoured to have such a student amongst them,"
Dad always knew how to make me laugh. But I had made up my mind, I wanted to push myself in medicine. 

"Enjoyed your meal miss?" asked a voice.
I looked up.
A tall hat towered over a square face with black rimmed spectacles. The only thing that was missing from his face were freckles and braces, he'd easily slip into this quintessential geek of medicine.
"Yes." I blinked, half a smile.
"Anything that I could make the experience better?" he asked in a politely rehearsed manner.
"Yes." I gulped. Not really understanding his question.
"And how is that miss?" a concerned expression spread through his face.
"No...no…" I quickly began shaking my head left and right, noticing I said something wrong. Damn. I had to be an introvert.
He smiled, a set of teeth that surely had some years in the brace. (I’d know, cause no one can have that perfect of a set of teeth. No one!)
"Thank you for coming, and please continue to enjoy your meal, have a nice day." This time, he sounded confident, and with his sleeves folded, he made a small bow, a step back and headed off to the kitchen.
I unconsciously bowed back.
Subconsciously feeling super princess-y.
At that moment I was lucky I was single, cause it seemed like the perfect start of a love story. By the time I finished the dessert he had served me, I was happily engaged to him in my pink regalia as he came over to my house to meet Dad at the end of the ceremony. Thankfully the dessert was one very sweet that naturally would have made my smile endlessly, so I had a reason why I was grinning like mad to myself. Not that anyone would ask, they must have assumed I'm a mad woman anyhow. Lol.

its four in armenian.
a man can have four wives, just like the number of chambers of his heart.
a story though, can have multiple endings.
just like this one. Cause even I am not sure what would happen at my oath taking, what more during my Pro III. But the best way to a person's heart is always the tummy.

me, 17012015,2315.

Friday, January 16, 2015


the glam of doctors is too overrated.
the white coats,
the oncalls,
the electives.

too overrated.

(seriously NOT complaining~~~hahahahaha. sebab im enjoying the time,-i come back home tired but laughin with my iospital stories to my parents)

one day, when i have kids,

im gona tell them,
if they ever wana enter medschool,
they have to pass 3 hurdles.
1. win multiple marathons
lik not just one 5 km marathon tau...and not really win first second place pun.
as long as s/he makes it through la.
get that finisher pun i happy.
hahaha. cos trust me, u need alot of stamina in medschool. there will be many times u wana back out,
n not wana hurdle tht puddle of mud and tht thunder of a storm.
well, its good for ur brains andddd to avoid hypocriticism, cos basically the advice we give to like ALL patients is "please have a good diet and exercise" =.="
i don wan my kid telling people tht, while s/he enjoys days of sleep till no end, on her/is bed with junkfood melimpah on the floor. lame. hahaha

2. does well gettin bossed around, and bold enough to stand out and still can think for themselves after hours of exhaustion
because hey, u are the rut of hopital in medschool,
tak kesah hw distinction u are. u are gona have gotta get used to being ignored, invisible, and underestimated (atau kadang-kadang memang low pon..huhuh)
but at the end of the day, u gota noe tht ur benchmark isnt wat others say of u, but how hard and ur own will to improve urself,
cos no one was naturally good, no one was born for something (okayh sum people are, but biarlaaa..itu rezeki dia...ni rezeki and jihad kita! allah is counting on us to improve ourselves)

3. a passion for stress.
a lie to say we like holidays. (tho alil poison never hrt noone)
but yes,
u can hear us moaning, keluh-ing, sighing and alwayssss asking for holidays.
though trust me, wen we get erm, we get bored to death.
holidays arent really our bestfriends, 
holidays are these popular kids that we all wana be friends with, tapi in reality,
we don really wana be with 24/7 pun. cos we get bored of their antics in real life with their 200 dollar scarfs and 500 dollar bangles.
too overrated i say.

trust me.
a stress free life is too overrated,
the 5 thousand holidays to phuket with a gopro stick?
overrated cannot get over the top.

we medstudents thrive on back to back oncalls, assignments and bedsideteachings.
(set aside the complains ahhh~~ hahaa)

cos we allll noe what happens to all these 'doctor-kids' they either become....duhh doctors OR duhh rebels!

yeah. medschool, is just lik harry potter,
there are those purebloods or the mudbloods.
and the rest?
memang pon muggles.
if ur not in medical line,
wen i say 8-5 in wards is no cubicle life weyh.
i really mean, no bloody DVT life weyh.
it is bloody sweaty oozy though.
not so literal there.
unless ur in HTAR. memang la icky la kannnn~~~~~~
but then again, not in emergency department, its sooo sedapppp~~ not yummy sedap..but breezy sedap. (no i still have never gone to the beach in klang yet-got beach meh? hahaha)
so my apologies to all the ED staff for tumpang-ing their surau cos the main surau is just way too far at the back and the clinic ones are way too cold.

so when we say we missed the 9 and 3/4 platform trains,
its not just another train.
its THE train,
even if the train has dementors that screen us,
cos hovering HODs and nagging MOs bossing u around like their "cooly"s is way too much fun for us medical students.
walhal next year memang dah the real deal
and no muggle would want that, and no, these 'dementors' dont just come on a weekly basis.

a strange sad to miss tht 9 3/4 train.

but sudenly,
im pulled back to 837 am 16th January 2015,
"the happiest souls are those that have found Allah enough for them,"

so here's a quickie,
what was the intention of joning those rounds,
learning chest compressions and running around the corridors of ED like ducks?
to  always be around with peers lik those little ducklings following their mummy?
or because one day, (soon) ur gona be a doctor, managing patients, and Allah will question, "dear slave of mine, wat have u done with this other slave of mine?"
that slip of concentration in the skill lab, and that needle wrongly named inserted,
Allah will ask u.
correct, then a good deed is encrypted on to ur long list of scroll,
wrong, a bad deed will then shatter ur scroll that u need to help u to land a spot into jannah.

im not undermining any other carriers,
not law, not masscom, not our simple receptionist.
imagine the stories lawyers face,
the stigma clouding masscomm-ers
and the directions receptionists guide us to.

but medical was the path i trutle.
in my:

ps-trois is three in french.