I can hold my breath for a count of 1, 2, 3

I'm driving myself insane. Not just regular insane with petty issues and so forth, but real heart wrenching, painful and long lasting stress induced insanity. The kind that makes it ironic that I work in mental health - I should just admit myself to HDU and ask for some PRN.

I fucked up the Gamsat. The very test that would dictate my chances of getting into medical school. I screwed up. I got cocky about the essay section and I had a total mindblank (caused in part because the stimulus quotes were ridiculous and uninspiring). I did nut out something, because saying nothing is worse than saying something incoherant. And incoherant I was.

I did ok (I think) in the first part, which tested my humanities knowledge and reasoning, and when the essay section started, I was feeling good about myself. One hour later and I was exhauseted and questioning my motivations. What the hell was I doing? On our release, I got the fuck away from everyone else, found a spot where I could see a tiny sliver of the ocean and had a bit of a moment. I was actually holding it together pretty well, but one of my "oh no, I fucked it up" texts got a reply from my dad that simply said "I have faith in you". Well now.

I manned up and came back for the three hour torture that was the science section. I think that I would have got the same score if I had just not turned up. Not that I have my score (and I won't for another 7 weeks!) but, the magic eight ball cant be wrong. I had actually resigned myself to sitting it again next year, before I had even opened the (very thick!) Section III.

So here I wait. I'm not a patient person, but I've figured out that my lesson for the year is patience. I am still waiting on my thesis results, now I have to wait on this. I really hate that I am doing this to myself and that there is no one else to direct my frustration towards.

I did meet up with a friend, got drunk, sobered up (damn you food!) but stayed out dancing until 5am. Go me. I was so tired the day after, I'm such a nana. The only sad part about that was that my booty call fell asleep by the time I was ready. I'm seeing him on Wednesday when I go back down there. I will get what I need.

I have written off any chance that I might get into either of the universities on the East Coast (UQ and Griffith) as both of them need really high Gamsats and I've fucked that. There is a small private (although not in the way the US does private, just that it's a Catholic University) called Notre Dame in Fremantle.....which happens to be in Perth in Western Australia. Yeah. They do have a lower GPA/Gamsat combo because they weight the interview 60% - and they give you bonuses for previous experience and Masters.

Hell, I don't know. I"m stressiing myself ou over something that I have no control over and is all soemthing of a gamble. Jeebus. I will go wherever, I will sit the gamsat agian. I want this, bt I am not a patient person.

I'm still not that excited about my trip, it's almost like I have to get the Wellington Nurses conference out of the way before I can get excited. It's really weird, like I'm stressing over having enough spending money (since I've paid for my flights and hotels) but it's still not real. The four weeks from the second week of April till the second of May are going to be excellent and potentially devestating.

I'm just a pawn in a game of pain. I've done what I've done. Hell, I dyed my hair dark brown - although it turned out black because that's how blonde it went over summer - and I look like an emo. I've refused to acknowledge it when people have commented on it because I thought that it looked so bad, but today my hair decided that it was looking damn fine (style wise) and so I let it be loose. Three people commented on how good my eyes (actual eyes...not boobs) looked against the hair colour. Apparently they popped. So, win?

Oh novus!

My last post was so long ago - so much for updating this regulary. Fail

I've been so busy with getting ready for my six weeks of horror/awesomeness, that I let this just fail by the wayside. Not that this is an excuse, because I should be better, but is a timely reminder not to let the big things get in the way of the little things.

The big things:

• My trip to Mexico via the USA - all flights and hotels are booked! I've obviously watched too much Law and Order because I was nervous about going to NYC on my own, so I've booked myself into the Hilton. Cost me $900 for three nights, but I wasn't staying in a youth hostel by myself and the 2 star hotels were just a little cheaper.... and now I'm justifying myself. Opps. Oh well, is done.
  
  
  
• The exam-that-shall-not-be-dignified-with-name, is next Saturday (breathe!). I don't feel as well prepared as I imagined myself, but at the same time I'm not freaking out too much. I have my moments but I have to believe that this is what I am meant for, tha this is what I can do. So I shall do it - I even told my manager at work that I'm studying at work, so my production will be less until after it. It's hard to study when I'm not avoiding doing my thesis.
  
  
• The triathlon is this Sunday. Oh novus! I'm definitely not anywhere near ready for it - I nearly died when I was doing the practice bike ride up Music Point! Eating is a good idea. Opps. Thankfully, I re-read the directions and we only have to do Music Point once (not twice like E suggested) and the run has been rerouted so it's all flat! (This is me psyching myself up). I've already told CFU to expect me laying on the floor on Monday morning.
  

Work has been both ass and fantastic. I no longer have a life, but that is ok because I am saving money. At least that is what I am telling myself because if I didn't then that would be worry me.

There was this guy from my Aunt's work who came around to look at Poppy's boat who was a bit alright (and he commented on my clevage dispaly to my Aunt, which whatevers I was wearing a singlet) but my Aunt seems to think he is a bit of a loser, but again, whatevers. I need some. I will get some next weekend.

I think I'm a little crazy at the moment. I should have some more sugar. Can't be having sugar drops now.

Adrift

We lost a client yesterday. She was high risk and had been engaged with our service for some time, but something happened and it wasn't enough. I don't know really what to do or say, and I'm just aiming to be there for my friends and colleagues, but I don't feel like it's enough. I didn't know her personally; I certainly didn't treat her or see her regularly but I did read her case. I use her data frequently. She was in the inpatient unit too, so I'll have to read and reread her case there.

I wish I knew what to do. I wish there was something that I could do. First suicide in nine years at the service.

I just don't know.

I'm so angry, I.....cry?

I am a research assistant for a CAMHS. I work hard, I work fast and I always try to support the clinicians. I found out that there was a Mental Health Nurses Conference coming up, so I rallied the nurses, prodded and cajoled them into thinking about research ideas for presenting until I had four abstracts sent off for approval. All were accepted, and I began working hard. For the SACS one, I wrote the ethics application, I wrote the research proposal, I wrote the institutional approval application, I pulled the data, I will do the data analysis. No offence to the nurse, but I have done at least 90% of the fucking work - and the nurse is appreciative of it because she doesn't understand the process or how to do it. In fact, the nurse manager said that she is amazed and astounded by my work.

So why the fuck was I declined to attend this conference? Without me, the service wouldn't even be presenting. The Clinical Directors justification for this was because I am not a nurse, and it is a nursing conference and there are three other nurses going. No shit. Two of those nurses are going to present a fucking poster. I'm talking about a 20 minutes presentation where I am a named author.

Of course, my ridiculous reaction was to get angry and that lead to crying. I'm not crying for pity, I'm crying because I can't seem to manage not express my anger verbally. Which of course makes me look weak and not professional, the opposite of what I am aiming for.

I want to go to this conference because I have done so much work for it, and because it is my only show of professional development. I have three areas for performance reviews - conferences, grants and publications.

What this basically comes down to is that I feel I am being undervalued because I am not a member of a clinician team, and thus I am feeling like there is really no point to my work there. And because I can't adequately explain my position, I don't know what to do.

I never thought it would be like this. I was just thinking on the weekend that I really love my job, and this notwithstanding, I do. It's just that this is such a big deal.

With all the shit that has gone down so far this year, I wonder what the hell I did that set off this bad portion of karma?

Thank god for vodka and sleeping pills.

Making Myself Happy

One emo post deserves a happy, random one. So here we go:

I really like Auckland beaches. The West Coast is wild and rugged with iron sand that burns you feet for even thinking of standing on it, the waves are notoriusly dangerous and wild with rapidly shifting rips; the East Coast is more sheltered with white sand and gentle rolling waves. I went to the beach this afternoon to meet up with some friends but got the timing wrong so I just sat down for an hour and centred myself. The waves were barely lapping at the shore, the sun was setting and the humidity disappeared. Before I left my aunt's place this afternoon, I noticed that Auckland was hazed over - this only happens when the humdity is around 95% in the late afternoon. But sitting on that beach, all of my worries and stress of the past week didn't matter. What mattered was the sound of the ocean and the feel of my soul being calmed. It was peaceful.

Hell I'm even sitting under a pohutukawa tree! How much more quintessential kiwi can you get?

This looks weird but it's from laying down looking up

I don't think that I could ever live somewhere with no beach. Living in london was torture, and the second I saw the beach coming in to land at Auckland airport, I was calmer and felt more secure.

You wouldn't think that I would be a beach person. Despite being a Dallie, i'm as white as they come. I burn like the dickins in nz and I don't like the transition from being wet to dry. But seeing the ocean gives me a feeling of peace, its part of why I love the drive into work, my motorway goes right along and over the sea.

I have mad skillz - I took this as I was going 100km approaching a corner

The "skyline" of Auckland. Yup - that's the whole city

Sometimes it just sucks

This week has been really stressful with work things and then my cousin was admitted to hospital for a potential ectopic pregnancy (which it wasn't - or rather the intern decided it wasn't), and now my Grandad has been admitted to a different hospital for suspected pneumonia, but they've found a shadow on the lung Xray which warrants further investigation, so he's still there. And it wouldn't have been such a hard week if I had the support of my friends here - but that hasn't been forthcoming. And that sucks, a lot. It's been the support of my friends who are further away that has kept me from loosing my mind. I spoke to my dad tonight who suggested that it was because I take my familial responsibilities seriously - and because I am Dallie (Croatian), family is essential for me but not for others. I try to give others that consideration, but right now, I am struggling with them not living up to my expectations. I will drop everything for a friend in need, and it hurts when it is not reciprocated.

I have to remember to be strong, to let myself feel these things and not bury them. Kia Kaha. I am allowed to put myself and my family first. Kia Mana. The hurt I feel is just a demonstration of the love I have for others. Kia Aroha.

I just wish it wasn't so hard.

Seeing the dirt on the pool floor

Baby K and I went swimming on Friday. Ostensibly because I did promise her last week when I insisted on going to the beach rather than back out west (on the day of the NW Shooting), but also because I'm running a Triathlon in 20 days, and as such all time in the pool is worthwhile. At least that's what I told myself. I spent half the time having a wild creature scramble for my arm in a desperate attempt to not drown, and the rest of the time telling asshole teenage boys to stop bombing directly on Baby K or stop splashing in our faces. Asses.

Anywoo, Baby K swam about 20m on her own! It wasn't pretty but she did it!

Finally managed to get my ass to the gym on Saturday afternoon. This triathlon thing is looming rather close (it's the 20th of Feb!) so I'm thinking I need to do just a touch more work. Ha. I have more swimming planned this week and then running/cycling on the other days. I'm really struggling with it all at the moment because I'm not good at it - so I struggle to not get distracted and enjoy it. It's a huge push for me to even swim 25 m non stop, not because I can't but because I get bored. I swarm with contacts in for the first time, which was exciting for the first 50m, but then got hell boring because all I was looking at was the dirty pool floor in focus. Boo. I'm sure I'll get past it, but for now I must push myself.

I despise doing things that I'm not good at, or things that I have to push myself to do unless I can see that I can make it. Which doesn't really make a lot of sense, because I do enjoy challenges, but I enjoy challenges that are within my comfort zone. Even the sense of achievement isn't enough at the moment. I am the brainy one, not the athletically gifted one. My cousins do really well in both Basketball and Netball, not me. Sitting the gamsat doesn't phase me as much as getting out there and running that Triathlon. I'm so scared of not making it.

Haven't felt the way I feel today in so long

From start to finish, today was frustrating. I felt like every step forward was the proverbial step back. To be quite honest, today was ass. Nothing major happened, but none the less, I was frustrated. Ethics letters for a couple of studies arrived, and they had changed the tables on us - now they require consent forms for using the healthcare records in a way other than normally intended and getting Maori Research Review Committee Consultation. The MRRC do not and have never reviewed these small retrospective projects. And why the hell would I get consent from people who have been discharged? One of the projects looks at the last 3 years worth of clients! FUCK. I sure hope like hell that this is wrong, cos that means my presentation is screwed, and more importantly, the project I have worked on for the past year and a half is screwed. I'M REPORTING ON FREAKING AUDITS!!!!

Achm. Also had a massive arguement with the car park company who are making me pay for Feb even though I requested to terminate. Apparently it was my duty to follow up and make sure that they got that termination advice, yet when I did it today and waited 2 hours for confirmation, they got shitty and talked to me like I was a retard. I do not appreciate that, and I made sure she knew that. It's always tempting at times like that to pull out the ol 'do you know who I am?' bullshit when people talk to me like that. So I spent an hour writing a complaint letter, which I am forwarding to the Commerce Commission and maybe Fair Go if they fuck me off more.

Sigh. Then I got home, place was a mess and smelling like garlic (who doesn't love that?). Sigh. So I checked trademe.co.nz to see if the flatmate has put the room up for rent. She hasn't. I'm not that surprised but I am bothered. This place is costing me serious money and I could do with not paying that and getting settled. I'm going to pull some of my stuff out and start shifting in the hope that she gets the hint. I can't keep doing this forever.

There were so many other things that frustrated me today but I can't keep ruminating over the bad stuff. I want to have a good day tomorrow. Ok. I need to say one good thing about today.

I finally got into the water for training for the triathlon and I had some yummy chocolate.

I had happiness in the 'tron

I signed onto Blogger a good half an hour ago, and I'm ashamed at how long it took me to find the 'New Post' Button. In my defence, I drive to Hamilton and back today (1.5h each way) and I have the attention span of a gnat. At least I didn't get pulled into a Wiki Whirl Pool, so that saved about an hour.

My Ethics meeting in Hamilton went really well - pending a few changes (admin and consent issues) I will have approval. Woot woot! This is really exciting for me because I dreamed up the whole project, I got the funding ($10,000!) and I wrote the freaking ethics application of 30+ pages in one day. I got mad skillz yo.

So going to Hamilton for the meeting was really worthwhile - until I nearly crashed. Stupid mofo I was passing in a pass lane decided to slow down just as we got to the merging lane. I was stuck and it was only because the guy behind me stopped, that I didn't crash and die. Seriously! Merge like a zip, people! Speaking of dangerous driving, I took my cousins out on Friday and nearly got stuck in the giant carpark that the NW Motorway turned into. Some mofo lead 26 police cars on a chase through the city, jumped on the motorway, decided he didn't want to be heading westbound any more, stopped his car to jump over the median barrier and brandished his sawn off shotgun at passing motorists in attempt to carjack another car. The AOS did their job and took action, unfortunately a civilian was caught in the crossfire and died. Really unfortunate because he was 17, the father of a 2 year old and working. His family is understandable angry but still, the AOS were doing their job and that mofo was crazy, hopped up on P (ice) and having taken shots at police and civilians in his attempt to escape.

Anyways, we were supposed to be on the motorway at that time, but I threw a sooky and decided that we were going to the beach at Narrow Head. There but for the grace, I go.

Narrow Head is a lovely beach. It's on the North Shore facing Rangitoto (semi-extinct volcano in the middle of the harbour) and perfect for little kids with only metre high waves. The kids had fun, I lay in the sun shelter and pretended to read. I might just take them back this Friday - hopefully without the two hour drive back!

Taking the leap of faith

In March of this year, I will be sitting the Graduate Australian Medical School Admission Test (hereafter referred to as the great evil, the test that shall not be named, or the GAMSAT). I know this because I just paid my registration fee for it. $308 for the privilege of sitting somewhere in Wellington, (the weekend the Who are playing Auckland no less!) for a 6 hour test.

I have wanted to be a doctor ever since finding out that being a midwife payed terribly and I would spent most of my time examining vagina's. All day. I decided that there had to be something that would have a better reward and would be less disturbing. So medicine was the only option.

I have aimed for med school three times now. The first was as a school leaver - having left Australia to attend high school in NZ for this very reason - where the minimum entry marks in Bursary where 361. I got a measly 273. It was sufficient for all the other courses I had applied for, so I dutifully went off to do my Health Science degree, thinking that I would make it into second year. I was naive, I was young (16), I had never fallen hard enough to really, truly want it. I wanted it for the mana, I wanted it for the status. I didn't get it. And that hurt.

All was not lost and so I headed off to finish my degree, taking papers I thought I had to do in order to get in post-bachelors and I hated each and every minute of them. I barely scraped through some of them, I failed. Looking back now, I would like to shake myself and only do subjects that I was interested in. Oh, and drink less. I did not make it in post-bachelors, having left two papers to do. Instead jetting off for my ill-fated trip to England.

In England I worked as a PA to a neurosurgeon, then several neurologists. I loved it, I hated it. I could feel that I was wasting my potential, that I was wasting my life because I wasn't enjoying London, I wasn't living the life that I felt I could and should be living. The neurosurgeon was surprised that some of my caliber was working as a PA. It was shameful. Not quite as shameful as losing my job because they decided they didn't like my visa anymore - one month after hiring me. That was my lowest point - it was so painful that I couldn't take being in London anymore. My flat hat I was living in was a hovel with an overbearing asshole landlord/flatmate, I lost my job, I didn't have true friends. It was clear - London and the UK were not for me.

I flew back to home via NZ. While there (here), my friends convinced me that I should be living in NZ and finish my bachelors off. One semester of summer school and I was done. I could do the actual graduation thing! My faculty sent me an information brochure on graduate programmes and I figured that I had come this far - why not? So I did a Post Graduate Diploma in Health Science (Youth Health) as something to make me stand out from everyone else. It was a great experience, sometimes painful but very good for my self esteem after the wreak that was 2006. As part of my 'independent study' paper, I did a dissertation on Pro Ana Communities. No one that I talked to knew what they were or what went on in them. I had a very specialised form of knowledge - I was the expert. It was an interesting feeling - especially when I got it back and I discovered I had an A. I was gobsmacked.

Various people encouraged me to go further, do the full masters. So I did. Just like that, I was enrolled and found a supervisor (although she did turn out to be useless and batshit crazy). I came up with the topic while standing in line at Sir Edmund Hilary's Public Viewing. I basically just wanted something that I could watch a lot of TV for, and for whatever reason, I decided that this would be it. It certainly didn't turn out like that - in fact, what I had in mind would have been more suitable for a full PhD thesis. At any rate, in Decemeber 2008 I handed in my thesis after being told that I would fail, or that I would need to take an extension. If I had taken the extension that my old supervisor and the Head of the Department had decided that I needed to take, I would not be done for another month. Oh hell no. I expect to find out the results in the next 4-8 weeks. I want to know, but right now I am safe from failing because I don't know.

Which brings me back to the point. Completing my Masters has given me a final, third shot at making it into Med School. I did some research and found that having a Masters gives you a final GPA of 6.5, and the University of Queensland accepts such. I also have an outside chance at getting into Griffith, although I will have to kick the interview because my GPA is so low (5.20, with 5.00 being minimum).

And so on March 21st, I will sit the 6 hour gamsat with thousands of others. The test has no rhyme or reason for their marking schedule and to get into UQ, I will need a score of at least 65. That is my minimum. I will get it. I must. I am not concerned with the first two sections, Comprehension and Essay Writing - the first requiring speed reading (I try to not buy books because I read them too fast) and the second requiring creative bullshitting (I believe that is called my thesis writing, hee). I am concerned about my Science ability, which will be tested on for three hours. God, I'm scared.

But I will do this, and I will succeed. I must, so I shall.

Number One

The number one represents my life in so many ways. I am the first child of my parents, the first grandchild, the first in my family to finish high school (still the only one - go G! You can make it!), the first to go to university, the first to go to Europe, the first to live abroad, the first to go into post-graduate education. It is not suprising that I am referred to as the Golden One, my grandfathers compaigion, the one who leads the way.

It's not that I am up myself, or have tickets on myself - this is just the way that things are. It's not easy - there is no one to look towards for guidance, I must make the leap and hope not to crash and burn. It's a lot of respoinsbility being the eldest. I must carefully balance being a daughter/friend/grandchild/cousin/niece/sister. I can't be everything and that really sucks when the shine wears off my amour. I might not be able to be everything to everyone, but I can be myself. There is only one of me.

Number `One` provides natural leadership qualities to the person. Number 1 people are initiators and leaders. They tend to take charge of a situation with self-assurance and confidence that shows. It is a very powerful number, which makes its presence known wherever it goes. The number 1 person is also occasionally known for His/ her bossy attitude towards others. More often the confidence is bright on surface with hidden streaks of vulnerability inside. Number 1 people are highly independent individuals with a habit of holding on to their attitude. Anyone trying to oppose them might be treated harshly by them. They like grandeur and want to live life in its full. The `Sun` number imparts brightness and energy in everything it undertakes. A person within the influence of this number should channelize his active and passionate nature in something productive, so that the extra energy doesn`t turn into ego and aggressiveness. One should also check in rigidity and stubbornness. The whole idea of dictating things around to get things done in a better way sounds like a good idea. But this control freak, demanding attitude should be practised with diplomacy and tact. In reality, most people sooner or later agree about the skillful ways of handling situations by a number one person and its is but natural for the Sun ruled people to assume a commanding position. A number 1 individual likes being loved and hates being ignored. But they often forget that key to receive love is to first give love unconditionally. Sun ruled people are born with a sense of dignity and a love for fine things in life. One is an entity with very strong vibrations. Anyone born with it is destined to succeed or at least make an impact. There is nothing subtle about it.

This year, I will work with my strengths, I will not struggle against them. I will try.