At the moment I'm in the process of cramming in more knowledge than I have ever accumulated in my life, so I apologise for the lack of 'monthly updates'. But expect a thorough and detailed review of the five months since the beginning of 2011. For the moment though, I need to revise for the exams starting on Monday!
^Something I made during a previous bout of revision boredom.
Saturday, 4 June 2011
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Willpower
It's been a few weeks since the London Marathon, and while the leg pain has subsided and I can think clearly now, I thought I'd write about how it all went. Preparation? Well, I'd always planned to train since the half-marathon in October, but I had never gotten round to it, not if you include a random 20km run with a friend once; and if you do the maths, 20km is less than half a marathon!
People had been training extremely hard for this one day; monitoring their diets and following intricately-planned training routines. Not that I don't believe in that sort of thing, but I've just been up to other stuff and didn't really have time for it all. I play football twice a week, run from home to the station (usually because I'm late), and that's about it. So I did have some reason to be slightly anxious the night before the race; the exhibition at Excel where we registered was full of eager beavers stocking up on their name-printed shirts and energy drinks. I bought a pair of South African-made running socks that felt quite padded and comfortable, got my running number and kit bag, then got out of there, passing the stalls where people from various other cities around the world were advertising their marathons.
The morning of the race; with pasta in my belly from the night before, and excitement levels at their highest, watching all the crowds converge from the tubes to marathon start line. My phone charger wasn't plugged in the night before, so I was relying on the half battery I had to take all the photos and make all the calls I needed during the race. Yes, I 'needed' to make calls; running can be that boring sometimes! I met my friend Farhan at the lorry where they take your kit bag to the finish line, so I got changed and gave my red numbered bag to the people at our lorry, before realising I'd left my phone inside, and thus began the frantic search for my bag.
So with my phone finally in my hand, and oyster and bank cards in the zip-up back pocket of my shorts, we started running, taking loads of photos of the wacky and bizarre costumes some runners wore, and witty comments people had written on their signs and vests. Things were going well the first 10 miles; not tired at all and Blackberry Messenger-ing my way through, occasionally grabbing a bottle of water or Lucozade the volunteers were handing out. It was a beautiful sunny day and the crowds of spectators along the route really spurred you on, with people even handing out their household reserves of fruit and sweets. I think this is why they call it the best marathon in the world; the people, the kids sticking their hands out to get as many high-fives as possible; the atmosphere was something I had never experienced before.
After the first 10 miles, I felt a little pain in my right knee, but I would not let this spoil my day. Just one foot in front of the other I thought, and stay with your friend. Look out for other friends running, say hello to them, before politely overtaking and wishing them luck. Halfway through we see the Barts Running Club congregated behind the barriers, cheering on the runners from our university. This stretch of road had two lanes; in one direction people just passing the halfway mark, and in the other direction was the 22 mile sign, with runners in this lane noticably more tired than in ours.
20 miles, and we were in the 'financial district' of London; Canary Wharf and other tall buildings, and where I had volunteered to help the year before. Here I bumped into another friend volunteering, and quickly took a picture of him, before telling him everything was fine, a bit of knee pain but that was it. I wish it had stayed that way! I had given up trying to encourage Farhan to keep up and keep breathing (more a motivation for myself than anything), and I lost him in the crowd behind me. I hadn't yet reached mile 21 and the pain started to kick in; the knowledge that if you stopped running for one second, your legs would cramp up... I had to keep going!
My photo-taking was less frequent now, just focused on reaching that finish line 5 miles away. And then, after passing the Tower of London, it happened. My entire right leg seized up and I was stopped in my tracks; the spectators on the side urging me on with their looks of sympathy. What could I do? I couldn't go on for another four miles in this state, with my leg refusing to continue, throbbing with pain. 'I can't give up now', I thought, so I wrapped my hands around my leg and lifted it, and with a cheer from my newly-formed fan group, I carried on; pain still radiating along my entire leg. For the rest of the run, the only emotions I had were fear; fear that things would get too bad for me to continue, and hope that I would get myself across the finish line. I had wondered how I could ever have gotten this far without the tubes of Lucozade gel people were handing out (of which I took more than one each time), the Red Bull shot I drank at Tower Bridge, and the company of my running companion.
I was alone, and through gritted teeth, clutching onto the Lycra that hugged my painful leg, I carried on. People were slowing down, slowing me down. I couldn't let that happen. I just wanted to push them out of the way, but instead had to squeeze past them with a polite 'excuse me' each time, the pain multiplying. And then came mile 22; and the Barts Running Club again; what a boost of morale they gave! I managed to take a quick picture of the cheering group of familiar faces, before they disappeared into the distance (or rather I did). Then Embankment, nearly there! The memories of all the people being stretchered away earlier served as a motivation to not let that happen to me, but just as I was approaching Westminster, my other leg cramped up. No! I massaged it for a little bit, ignored the burn, and limped laboriously on; the last stretch! And then I heard my name being called from behind the barriers; more friends! I couldn't give up now. I was practically there! The sign said 800 metres to go. That was like, two track lengths... I could do that!
Seeing Buckingham Palace had never been so pleasing, and as I approached the finish line, I ignored the pain and took in the atmosphere. This was amazing. A life moment in the making.
I crossed the finish line, and had a gold 'London Marathon 2011' medal placed around my neck. As I walked along the Mall, leaving the finish line behind me, a sudden overwhelming emotion gripped me. I wanted to cry. I don't know why, but I just wanted to. Now I understand why so many of the great sportspeople are overcome by this emotion. Something they plan and prepare themselves for for so long, and then they achieve it; everything paying off, after all the toil and sweat, they hadn't envisioned or prepared for the moments that came afterwards.
Ten minutes later, Farhan emerged from the crowds, and with medals around our necks, and wearing T-shirts that proclaimed us to be finishers of the London Marathon, we sat down in the radiant sunshine and reminisced, already discussing if we should run another marathon elsewhere.
Willpower played a major part in me finishing, but my legs were the things that carried me through. I don't know why they put up with me sometimes. I love my legs.
People had been training extremely hard for this one day; monitoring their diets and following intricately-planned training routines. Not that I don't believe in that sort of thing, but I've just been up to other stuff and didn't really have time for it all. I play football twice a week, run from home to the station (usually because I'm late), and that's about it. So I did have some reason to be slightly anxious the night before the race; the exhibition at Excel where we registered was full of eager beavers stocking up on their name-printed shirts and energy drinks. I bought a pair of South African-made running socks that felt quite padded and comfortable, got my running number and kit bag, then got out of there, passing the stalls where people from various other cities around the world were advertising their marathons.
The morning of the race; with pasta in my belly from the night before, and excitement levels at their highest, watching all the crowds converge from the tubes to marathon start line. My phone charger wasn't plugged in the night before, so I was relying on the half battery I had to take all the photos and make all the calls I needed during the race. Yes, I 'needed' to make calls; running can be that boring sometimes! I met my friend Farhan at the lorry where they take your kit bag to the finish line, so I got changed and gave my red numbered bag to the people at our lorry, before realising I'd left my phone inside, and thus began the frantic search for my bag.
So with my phone finally in my hand, and oyster and bank cards in the zip-up back pocket of my shorts, we started running, taking loads of photos of the wacky and bizarre costumes some runners wore, and witty comments people had written on their signs and vests. Things were going well the first 10 miles; not tired at all and Blackberry Messenger-ing my way through, occasionally grabbing a bottle of water or Lucozade the volunteers were handing out. It was a beautiful sunny day and the crowds of spectators along the route really spurred you on, with people even handing out their household reserves of fruit and sweets. I think this is why they call it the best marathon in the world; the people, the kids sticking their hands out to get as many high-fives as possible; the atmosphere was something I had never experienced before.
After the first 10 miles, I felt a little pain in my right knee, but I would not let this spoil my day. Just one foot in front of the other I thought, and stay with your friend. Look out for other friends running, say hello to them, before politely overtaking and wishing them luck. Halfway through we see the Barts Running Club congregated behind the barriers, cheering on the runners from our university. This stretch of road had two lanes; in one direction people just passing the halfway mark, and in the other direction was the 22 mile sign, with runners in this lane noticably more tired than in ours.
20 miles, and we were in the 'financial district' of London; Canary Wharf and other tall buildings, and where I had volunteered to help the year before. Here I bumped into another friend volunteering, and quickly took a picture of him, before telling him everything was fine, a bit of knee pain but that was it. I wish it had stayed that way! I had given up trying to encourage Farhan to keep up and keep breathing (more a motivation for myself than anything), and I lost him in the crowd behind me. I hadn't yet reached mile 21 and the pain started to kick in; the knowledge that if you stopped running for one second, your legs would cramp up... I had to keep going!
My photo-taking was less frequent now, just focused on reaching that finish line 5 miles away. And then, after passing the Tower of London, it happened. My entire right leg seized up and I was stopped in my tracks; the spectators on the side urging me on with their looks of sympathy. What could I do? I couldn't go on for another four miles in this state, with my leg refusing to continue, throbbing with pain. 'I can't give up now', I thought, so I wrapped my hands around my leg and lifted it, and with a cheer from my newly-formed fan group, I carried on; pain still radiating along my entire leg. For the rest of the run, the only emotions I had were fear; fear that things would get too bad for me to continue, and hope that I would get myself across the finish line. I had wondered how I could ever have gotten this far without the tubes of Lucozade gel people were handing out (of which I took more than one each time), the Red Bull shot I drank at Tower Bridge, and the company of my running companion.
I was alone, and through gritted teeth, clutching onto the Lycra that hugged my painful leg, I carried on. People were slowing down, slowing me down. I couldn't let that happen. I just wanted to push them out of the way, but instead had to squeeze past them with a polite 'excuse me' each time, the pain multiplying. And then came mile 22; and the Barts Running Club again; what a boost of morale they gave! I managed to take a quick picture of the cheering group of familiar faces, before they disappeared into the distance (or rather I did). Then Embankment, nearly there! The memories of all the people being stretchered away earlier served as a motivation to not let that happen to me, but just as I was approaching Westminster, my other leg cramped up. No! I massaged it for a little bit, ignored the burn, and limped laboriously on; the last stretch! And then I heard my name being called from behind the barriers; more friends! I couldn't give up now. I was practically there! The sign said 800 metres to go. That was like, two track lengths... I could do that!
Seeing Buckingham Palace had never been so pleasing, and as I approached the finish line, I ignored the pain and took in the atmosphere. This was amazing. A life moment in the making.
I crossed the finish line, and had a gold 'London Marathon 2011' medal placed around my neck. As I walked along the Mall, leaving the finish line behind me, a sudden overwhelming emotion gripped me. I wanted to cry. I don't know why, but I just wanted to. Now I understand why so many of the great sportspeople are overcome by this emotion. Something they plan and prepare themselves for for so long, and then they achieve it; everything paying off, after all the toil and sweat, they hadn't envisioned or prepared for the moments that came afterwards.
Ten minutes later, Farhan emerged from the crowds, and with medals around our necks, and wearing T-shirts that proclaimed us to be finishers of the London Marathon, we sat down in the radiant sunshine and reminisced, already discussing if we should run another marathon elsewhere.
Willpower played a major part in me finishing, but my legs were the things that carried me through. I don't know why they put up with me sometimes. I love my legs.
Thursday, 14 April 2011
Earth and Dust
I never knew that going to our friend's mum's funeral today could have such a profound effect on us all. Sure, we've all been to funeral prayers before, listening to the guy over the microphone say who died this week; occasionally an extra moment of contemplation spent when we discover it's a child. But when the prayer is over, we just get back on with our normal lives, and draw no real lessons from our momentary exposure to death.
But this time it was sort of different, personal; seeing our friend walk in, motherless, while we all sheepishly stood up to greet him. And after the prayer, making our way to the graveyard where we got our smart clothes stained by the clay-coloured mud, seeing our friend try to hold it together while he shovelled meagre amounts of soil onto his mother's body, trying to hurry things along so he could get this emotional ordeal over with.
There are only two things in life that we are certain of; we were once born, and we will one day die. But we are never prepared for the latter; neither for those close to us, nor for ourselves. In a recent university lecture, we were taught that since the moment of birth, we are all in a process of ageing, and that we all have one definite outcome, whether it be 70, 50, or even 20 years down the line. Or tomorrow.
I found it strange how our perspective of things changes when emotion is so harshly triggered. When a loved one passes away, you see the whole world through different eyes; a much more empty and 'foreign' world, compared to the beautiful and happy world when good events in your life take place. But what makes us experience such despair and anguish when someone dies? Is it the suddenness and unexpected nature of the event; that we weren't prepared for it? Or is it simply due to the realisation that we are going to miss them, and that they won't 'be around' any longer? That feeling when you imagine what they would be doing, or where they would be sitting had they been alive. Or is it the uncertainty of how the future is going to pan out without such an influential figure in your life? Maybe it's a combination of all three, but sooner or later, we adjust and get back to what we were doing.
Whilst death isn't a topic often discussed at the dinner table, we should think more about it, so we can steer our lives in the direction that we feel would be most beneficial to ourselves and others, as well as appreciate that death is just part of a journey we have to provision ourselves properly for.
As I removed the clumps of dirt from the rollups of my trousers, I thought of the nature of human beings; that we came from this earth, we live off its produce all our lives, and we will return to it, yet we feel far superior to the status that we actually deserve. So no matter how big or 'gangster' we may act sometimes, or how 'successful' we may have been in this short life, we will end up in a hole in the ground, with people shovelling dirt over our body.
But this time it was sort of different, personal; seeing our friend walk in, motherless, while we all sheepishly stood up to greet him. And after the prayer, making our way to the graveyard where we got our smart clothes stained by the clay-coloured mud, seeing our friend try to hold it together while he shovelled meagre amounts of soil onto his mother's body, trying to hurry things along so he could get this emotional ordeal over with.
There are only two things in life that we are certain of; we were once born, and we will one day die. But we are never prepared for the latter; neither for those close to us, nor for ourselves. In a recent university lecture, we were taught that since the moment of birth, we are all in a process of ageing, and that we all have one definite outcome, whether it be 70, 50, or even 20 years down the line. Or tomorrow.
I found it strange how our perspective of things changes when emotion is so harshly triggered. When a loved one passes away, you see the whole world through different eyes; a much more empty and 'foreign' world, compared to the beautiful and happy world when good events in your life take place. But what makes us experience such despair and anguish when someone dies? Is it the suddenness and unexpected nature of the event; that we weren't prepared for it? Or is it simply due to the realisation that we are going to miss them, and that they won't 'be around' any longer? That feeling when you imagine what they would be doing, or where they would be sitting had they been alive. Or is it the uncertainty of how the future is going to pan out without such an influential figure in your life? Maybe it's a combination of all three, but sooner or later, we adjust and get back to what we were doing.
Whilst death isn't a topic often discussed at the dinner table, we should think more about it, so we can steer our lives in the direction that we feel would be most beneficial to ourselves and others, as well as appreciate that death is just part of a journey we have to provision ourselves properly for.
As I removed the clumps of dirt from the rollups of my trousers, I thought of the nature of human beings; that we came from this earth, we live off its produce all our lives, and we will return to it, yet we feel far superior to the status that we actually deserve. So no matter how big or 'gangster' we may act sometimes, or how 'successful' we may have been in this short life, we will end up in a hole in the ground, with people shovelling dirt over our body.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
How do I do?
With a mega-hard exam that you've sacrificed precious sleep and time over out of the way, how do you feel? Pictorially (because my fingers aren't in the mood to type today), I'd say it's like this:
In reality it's more like this, with one obstacle overcome I have ten more placed in my path:
But at the moment I just want to be like this:
Just a little longer.
In reality it's more like this, with one obstacle overcome I have ten more placed in my path:
But at the moment I just want to be like this:
Just a little longer.
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Lost and Found
I left my bag on the tube the other day. The contents of said bag: university notes, my (orange) stethoscope, HD camera and various other bits and bobs that I hold dear. I'm not particularly proud of the fact that I can be so absent minded and non-multi-tasking (I was reading about organ donation at the time; maybe someone should donate me a brain), but it happened nonetheless and this is my attempt at moving on.
Looking back, it was quite funny the way I reacted; first having a weird feeling that something was missing, to contemplating chasing after the train (I was at the top of the escalators by this point), to running to the supervisors office and trying to patiently wait whilst they got contact with a station lower down the Jubilee line. When no progress was made there, I attempted to get off at every station and ask if anyone had handed in any bags. When that avenue was exhausted, I felt completely helpless; that lack of connection between myself and my possessions, and the thought of someone going through my stuff without my permission was almost as bad as losing my things in the first place.
So there I stood on some platform, bagless, clutching onto my anorak and a copy of Student BMJ, and I felt strangely happy. The thing is, from the moment I got off the train to me realising there was an absence of weight on my right shoulder, I felt completely content. It's not like the possessions in my bag were keeping me alive in any way; and the importance I attached to them was clearly not that much otherwise I'd never have let them out of my sight!
Things are going to be okay I thought; notes can be rewritten, stethoscopes, cameras and perfumes can be rebought. Possessions come and go, but there are many things in life that one cannot afford to lose, at any cost. Health, intellect, the gifts of sight and hearing, family and friends; all are more valuable than the contents of any bag.
I haven't had any news of the retrieval of my bag as of yet, so I'm not writing this from a position of 'everything is okay now so I can be as contemplative about this as I want', but just a little lesson I learnt; we complain so much about the smallest of things in life whilst we don't appreciate (or even take notice of) the things that are going right for us. We need to have more of a 'gratitude attitude'.
But probably the biggest lesson I learnt from this is to always check if you've left anything behind when you get off the train!
Looking back, it was quite funny the way I reacted; first having a weird feeling that something was missing, to contemplating chasing after the train (I was at the top of the escalators by this point), to running to the supervisors office and trying to patiently wait whilst they got contact with a station lower down the Jubilee line. When no progress was made there, I attempted to get off at every station and ask if anyone had handed in any bags. When that avenue was exhausted, I felt completely helpless; that lack of connection between myself and my possessions, and the thought of someone going through my stuff without my permission was almost as bad as losing my things in the first place.
So there I stood on some platform, bagless, clutching onto my anorak and a copy of Student BMJ, and I felt strangely happy. The thing is, from the moment I got off the train to me realising there was an absence of weight on my right shoulder, I felt completely content. It's not like the possessions in my bag were keeping me alive in any way; and the importance I attached to them was clearly not that much otherwise I'd never have let them out of my sight!
Things are going to be okay I thought; notes can be rewritten, stethoscopes, cameras and perfumes can be rebought. Possessions come and go, but there are many things in life that one cannot afford to lose, at any cost. Health, intellect, the gifts of sight and hearing, family and friends; all are more valuable than the contents of any bag.
I haven't had any news of the retrieval of my bag as of yet, so I'm not writing this from a position of 'everything is okay now so I can be as contemplative about this as I want', but just a little lesson I learnt; we complain so much about the smallest of things in life whilst we don't appreciate (or even take notice of) the things that are going right for us. We need to have more of a 'gratitude attitude'.
But probably the biggest lesson I learnt from this is to always check if you've left anything behind when you get off the train!
(A work by Banksy)
There's a happy ending to this story: ten days later I got my bag back, with everything still inside! After calling the lost property office every day, only to repeatedly hear they had nothing, it was such a surprise to hear one afternoon they actually had a bag that matched the description I gave! Not only has this taught me that there are still nice and honest people left in this world (or maybe just quick to spot suspicious items on the tube), but I've had the best of 'both worlds'; learning valuable lessons the tough way, but getting everything back and learning that actually, whether you like it or not, the possessions you hold dear are the things that define you.
Saturday, 15 January 2011
The Year of 'Yes'
One of the advantages of stop-starting blog posts is that you can look back at your previous attempts at trying to string words together into something with meaning and go "nah!" and delete the whole thing. I've just done that, so rather than letting you waste any time reading pointless intros (if this isn't one already), I'll get straight to the point: unless it's something morally objectionable, say yes to every opportunity that comes your way.
I'm going into this new year holding various positions at university; I've been Charity Week rep, publicity officer for Teddybear Hospital, committee member for MESS (the group that teaches first years medicine), Student-Staff Liaison Committee member, treasurer of the Islamic Society, and I hope to continue with these things next year, as well as try and get the Dodgeball Society up and running. Every university email that I got at the beginning of the year, inviting me to take part in various things, I've said yes to, and although sometimes it can be difficult juggling multiple things at once, I can say you develop into a better person as a result. Not to mention the millions of friends you make and the awesome times you experience on the way!
So whatever it is, from helping out at open days to playing sport with people you don't really know that well, to attending a talk on something you don't know much about; say yes, and you'll see more and more doors open for you!
I'm going into this new year holding various positions at university; I've been Charity Week rep, publicity officer for Teddybear Hospital, committee member for MESS (the group that teaches first years medicine), Student-Staff Liaison Committee member, treasurer of the Islamic Society, and I hope to continue with these things next year, as well as try and get the Dodgeball Society up and running. Every university email that I got at the beginning of the year, inviting me to take part in various things, I've said yes to, and although sometimes it can be difficult juggling multiple things at once, I can say you develop into a better person as a result. Not to mention the millions of friends you make and the awesome times you experience on the way!
So whatever it is, from helping out at open days to playing sport with people you don't really know that well, to attending a talk on something you don't know much about; say yes, and you'll see more and more doors open for you!
Thursday, 30 December 2010
OctoNovemDecember
Right, I've had this sudden urge to get this bi-monthly tri-monthly post out of the way. Because I'm the one who's done all of the things I'm writing about, apart from re-living some of the memories at the time of writing, I lack a certain enthusiasm when it comes to typing them out, especially if many of the things I did took alot out of me at the time. But still, this will be good to look back on and draw some sort of lessons from, in the distant future inshaallah.
So, the 'highlight' of October was Charity Week. That took up the majority of my time, and I can say for sure that it was the busiest time I've ever went through. With uni in full-swing, I somehow had to juggle my role as CW rep and learn the cardio-respiratory system, whilst getting emails and text messages every 30 seconds, asking for random favours (which I still have the problem of not being able to refuse) and feedback on tasks I assigned people. It was hectic, and although the stress was sort of getting to me, I felt happy in a way; that my time was not being wasted and my efforts were all being driven towards a tangible result. I met loads of amazing people on the way, and got to learn more about myself and how other people work.
I have to admit, there were times where you just lost hope in people, and many of the tasks that I had assigned to others ended up being done by me or the other reps. But in the end, with venues booked and caterers sorted (finally), our events were a massive success alhamdulillah. Whilst all the CW stuff was being done, on the side I was directing our film that we wanted to show during the 'big event' dinner. Now this was a lot of fun, but it also had its moments. There were loads of occasions, even when we'd barely gotten started, where people wanted to give up. I couldn't give up, and although it probably was the least stressful option, I would not let a project of mine be lost in the filing cabinet of regret.
Watching the final product, it would seem that the preparation for it went smoothly, but if you thought that you couldn't be more wrong. The first day of 'filming' involved an iPhone HD camera, and a few seconds of what we'd hoped would be a chase scene, the market scene, as well as a deathbead scene (which we didn't use in the end - if you've watched it, it would all make sense). The Darth Vader mask was an integral part of the proppage, and the actors were quite important too... when they were around. When we finally did get hold of my friend and his proper HD camera, the first evening of filming was haphazard to say the least. We'd managed to grab a bunch of first year dentists to act as 'extras', while we improvised our 'Dragons Den' script; at the same time trying to cater for everyone's timetables. Even after a considerable amount of filming that evening, people still wanted to give up. This was not what I envisioned.
The main actors (me included of course) and the cameraman all met up at university that weekend, to try and get the rest of filming done. This wasn't helped by the London-wide transport problems, but we managed to get quite a bit done, including the 'inception' and waking up bits, and our rooftop scene, which we didn't really have planned until we realised we could gain access to the roof (you can see a recurring theme of disorganisation here). We were happy with the way things were going, until security caught us and ejected us from the building, after giving our IDs back and threatening to report us. But all on our minds was the question: was that it? Was this the end of the line?
No it wasn't (obviously). We sacrificed a few more evenings, tired out of our wits, and it got to some of us. One of our main actors decided he couldn't take any more 'petty' attention to detail made by the cameraman, so I had to use the footage we had to kill him off somehow. I don't blame him for his decision; as a matter of fact I'm surprised I had anyone left by the end! But something I was utterly impressed with was the way our Darth Vader actor handled things; he didn't complain once and he did all what was asked of him. Next time though we definitely need a proper script, and not a random storyline that we keep adding comedic quips to. A massive motivation that kept us going was watching the final version of our first scene, and it fed us ideas on how we could dramatically end our film.
The fight scene, I thought, was the biggest highlight (maybe apart from the absolute jokes we had on the first proper evening of filming). The showdown between Darth Vader and the two remaining actors was symbolic of our own endeavours; every obstacle we faced had been overcome, but this final hurdle. Our filming of this scene had been delayed by a night because of rain, but that allowed us to include a cool day-to-night effect which only added to the uniqueness. The actual fight was epic, and when the last lightsaber blow was dealt, we all felt a collective sigh of relief as our days and nights of work (in the same unwashed clothes- to help with continuity) was in the form of a tangible film. With all the galivanting around our medical school building done, the feuds (both on and off camera) sorted, and the cameo-appearance of the most legendary lecturer ever caught on film, that was a wrap. This was all done for Charity Week 2010.
What else happened? Oh yes, tube collection day; what you could call the 'standard' bit of CW, where everyone stands outside London Underground stations holding collection buckets, with the optional addition of wearing an outrageous costume. Luckily, with me being on the teddybear hospital committee, I was able to borrow the massive teddybear costume we have, and I think that certainly contributed to our collection totals. Who can resist a cuddly teddy holding a bucket in your face? But that day didn't start too well to be honest; we were due to start our collecting at our respective stations at 7am, in time for rush hour, but as I arrived at Whitechapel, I soon realised that everyone had slept in, with one person (me) having to somehow man five stations.
The only permit I had on me was for Upton Park station, so I headed down there; my competitive drive the only thing stopping me from giving up and saying it wasn't our day. After an hour of holding my bucket in people's faces (to varying degrees of success), I decided I had to leave so I could catch lectures at university. I went to the supervisor's office on the platform, knocked on the door, and pushed it open after hearing no reply. The supervisor was sitting there doing his own thing, so I thought I'd quickly sign out and leave before a fuss was made. Just as I finished signing my name, I look up. Something did not seem right; I asked him if he was OK, and that was when he replied: "I think I'm having a heart attack".
I can't remember what was going through my mind when I heard such words, apart from "call an ambulance quick!"... which I did, and the minutes I spent alone with him, checking his pulse, trying to keep him calm, mopping his sweaty brow, were filled with anxiety and tension. Imagine the first 'patient' I ever have, and he dies; what would that do to my self-esteem? Alhamdulillah the ambulance people arrived and hooked him up to an ECG machine (which they let me interpret the results of, as we'd just learnt about ECGs in our Cardio-respiratory module). I helped them take him up the station steps and asked if they were going to the Royal London (as I had lectures there), which they weren't, so I took the tube back, running late for uni, but slightly chuffed that I was there in the right place at the right time, where he'd otherwise be suffering a heart attack alone and without help. I wanted to tell everyone on the tube what had happened; the adrenaline was still pumping, and the morale-boost I gained in the midst of this hectic Charity Week allowed me to survive the day of tube collections, with my extremely helpful (and organised) bunch of friends being there all the way. And that night was the night we finished filming :)
So, on to November. I went to a car show at Earl's Court with my car friend (I really should stop calling him my car friend, but really his love for motors is what defines him); we saw all these shiny new and old cars, and then was the Top Gear Live show, where the presenters of the TV programme did quite a good job on stage, and riddled in between their appearances were spectacular stunts, like one where a samurai guy on a motorbike had to 'defeat' a JCB digger, climbing all over it and 'slicing' massive parts of the digger off with swipes of his sword. The show ended with a giant-sized football match involving Clarkson and co driving the three-wheeled Reliant Robins. Twas quite a good night.
This time last year, I missed an event at the BMA library where if you brought along a new member, you would both get a free copy of Kumar and Clark (it's a medicine book practically every student/doctor uses), and you can get it signed by Professor Kumar herself! Yes, it's a lady; quite an amazing an inspiring lady at that. So this year I brought a friend along and I received my copy, but only after I met Kumar, so I couldn't get it signed. But, and this is one of the highlights of being at Barts, she sometimes lectures at our uni (being an ex-student here herself), so a couple of weeks later I got it signed after one of our lectures with her! Since then I've bumped into her on the tube a few times, and we have our little heart-to-hearts about medicine and life :)
Oh and another thing that happened in November was that we got two rabbits.
The beginning of December involved us taking an exam for Cardio-resp and Metabolism, and with me and my Charity Week antics, it meant I had to revise extra hard for it. I walked out of the exam not knowing whether I had passed or failed (I did pass alhamdulillah), but what we were all looking forward to after the exam was over were the holidays, which were only a two-week module away! This module was half chosen by us (based on competition for places), and what I ended up getting was 'communicating bio-medical information to young people', or in other words: fun. We began by meeting Nora, our tutor, and she took us to the Centre of the Cell (a place in our research building where schools visit and do fun activities), and let us sit in on one of the visits. The rest of the two weeks involved planning for a presentation we were due to give to some year 6 children at their school (we chose to do it on the heart), and bringing in sheep hearts added to the 'interactivity'. Suffice it to say, that was the highlight of our presentation, and indeed the two weeks. The module ended with a tour of the Science Museum given by Nora, as she used to work there. My my, how the good childhood memories were revisited!
And then came the holidays; two weeks of meeting friends, chilling (especially with the snow), and having a 'sleep-over' which combined the two. Goodbye 2010 :)
By the way, I have this massive feeling that I'll be meeting a very special person in two years. I don't know who this special person is, and I don't know why two years specifically, but let's wait and see :)
My three months in status updates:
How could I have forgotten the spacehop we did for Charity Week? That was seriously awesome, and on the Lord Mayor's day too, which meant we witnessed a fantastic firework display on our back-straining travels!
So, the 'highlight' of October was Charity Week. That took up the majority of my time, and I can say for sure that it was the busiest time I've ever went through. With uni in full-swing, I somehow had to juggle my role as CW rep and learn the cardio-respiratory system, whilst getting emails and text messages every 30 seconds, asking for random favours (which I still have the problem of not being able to refuse) and feedback on tasks I assigned people. It was hectic, and although the stress was sort of getting to me, I felt happy in a way; that my time was not being wasted and my efforts were all being driven towards a tangible result. I met loads of amazing people on the way, and got to learn more about myself and how other people work.
I have to admit, there were times where you just lost hope in people, and many of the tasks that I had assigned to others ended up being done by me or the other reps. But in the end, with venues booked and caterers sorted (finally), our events were a massive success alhamdulillah. Whilst all the CW stuff was being done, on the side I was directing our film that we wanted to show during the 'big event' dinner. Now this was a lot of fun, but it also had its moments. There were loads of occasions, even when we'd barely gotten started, where people wanted to give up. I couldn't give up, and although it probably was the least stressful option, I would not let a project of mine be lost in the filing cabinet of regret.
Watching the final product, it would seem that the preparation for it went smoothly, but if you thought that you couldn't be more wrong. The first day of 'filming' involved an iPhone HD camera, and a few seconds of what we'd hoped would be a chase scene, the market scene, as well as a deathbead scene (which we didn't use in the end - if you've watched it, it would all make sense). The Darth Vader mask was an integral part of the proppage, and the actors were quite important too... when they were around. When we finally did get hold of my friend and his proper HD camera, the first evening of filming was haphazard to say the least. We'd managed to grab a bunch of first year dentists to act as 'extras', while we improvised our 'Dragons Den' script; at the same time trying to cater for everyone's timetables. Even after a considerable amount of filming that evening, people still wanted to give up. This was not what I envisioned.
The main actors (me included of course) and the cameraman all met up at university that weekend, to try and get the rest of filming done. This wasn't helped by the London-wide transport problems, but we managed to get quite a bit done, including the 'inception' and waking up bits, and our rooftop scene, which we didn't really have planned until we realised we could gain access to the roof (you can see a recurring theme of disorganisation here). We were happy with the way things were going, until security caught us and ejected us from the building, after giving our IDs back and threatening to report us. But all on our minds was the question: was that it? Was this the end of the line?
No it wasn't (obviously). We sacrificed a few more evenings, tired out of our wits, and it got to some of us. One of our main actors decided he couldn't take any more 'petty' attention to detail made by the cameraman, so I had to use the footage we had to kill him off somehow. I don't blame him for his decision; as a matter of fact I'm surprised I had anyone left by the end! But something I was utterly impressed with was the way our Darth Vader actor handled things; he didn't complain once and he did all what was asked of him. Next time though we definitely need a proper script, and not a random storyline that we keep adding comedic quips to. A massive motivation that kept us going was watching the final version of our first scene, and it fed us ideas on how we could dramatically end our film.
The fight scene, I thought, was the biggest highlight (maybe apart from the absolute jokes we had on the first proper evening of filming). The showdown between Darth Vader and the two remaining actors was symbolic of our own endeavours; every obstacle we faced had been overcome, but this final hurdle. Our filming of this scene had been delayed by a night because of rain, but that allowed us to include a cool day-to-night effect which only added to the uniqueness. The actual fight was epic, and when the last lightsaber blow was dealt, we all felt a collective sigh of relief as our days and nights of work (in the same unwashed clothes- to help with continuity) was in the form of a tangible film. With all the galivanting around our medical school building done, the feuds (both on and off camera) sorted, and the cameo-appearance of the most legendary lecturer ever caught on film, that was a wrap. This was all done for Charity Week 2010.
What else happened? Oh yes, tube collection day; what you could call the 'standard' bit of CW, where everyone stands outside London Underground stations holding collection buckets, with the optional addition of wearing an outrageous costume. Luckily, with me being on the teddybear hospital committee, I was able to borrow the massive teddybear costume we have, and I think that certainly contributed to our collection totals. Who can resist a cuddly teddy holding a bucket in your face? But that day didn't start too well to be honest; we were due to start our collecting at our respective stations at 7am, in time for rush hour, but as I arrived at Whitechapel, I soon realised that everyone had slept in, with one person (me) having to somehow man five stations.
The only permit I had on me was for Upton Park station, so I headed down there; my competitive drive the only thing stopping me from giving up and saying it wasn't our day. After an hour of holding my bucket in people's faces (to varying degrees of success), I decided I had to leave so I could catch lectures at university. I went to the supervisor's office on the platform, knocked on the door, and pushed it open after hearing no reply. The supervisor was sitting there doing his own thing, so I thought I'd quickly sign out and leave before a fuss was made. Just as I finished signing my name, I look up. Something did not seem right; I asked him if he was OK, and that was when he replied: "I think I'm having a heart attack".
I can't remember what was going through my mind when I heard such words, apart from "call an ambulance quick!"... which I did, and the minutes I spent alone with him, checking his pulse, trying to keep him calm, mopping his sweaty brow, were filled with anxiety and tension. Imagine the first 'patient' I ever have, and he dies; what would that do to my self-esteem? Alhamdulillah the ambulance people arrived and hooked him up to an ECG machine (which they let me interpret the results of, as we'd just learnt about ECGs in our Cardio-respiratory module). I helped them take him up the station steps and asked if they were going to the Royal London (as I had lectures there), which they weren't, so I took the tube back, running late for uni, but slightly chuffed that I was there in the right place at the right time, where he'd otherwise be suffering a heart attack alone and without help. I wanted to tell everyone on the tube what had happened; the adrenaline was still pumping, and the morale-boost I gained in the midst of this hectic Charity Week allowed me to survive the day of tube collections, with my extremely helpful (and organised) bunch of friends being there all the way. And that night was the night we finished filming :)
So, on to November. I went to a car show at Earl's Court with my car friend (I really should stop calling him my car friend, but really his love for motors is what defines him); we saw all these shiny new and old cars, and then was the Top Gear Live show, where the presenters of the TV programme did quite a good job on stage, and riddled in between their appearances were spectacular stunts, like one where a samurai guy on a motorbike had to 'defeat' a JCB digger, climbing all over it and 'slicing' massive parts of the digger off with swipes of his sword. The show ended with a giant-sized football match involving Clarkson and co driving the three-wheeled Reliant Robins. Twas quite a good night.
This time last year, I missed an event at the BMA library where if you brought along a new member, you would both get a free copy of Kumar and Clark (it's a medicine book practically every student/doctor uses), and you can get it signed by Professor Kumar herself! Yes, it's a lady; quite an amazing an inspiring lady at that. So this year I brought a friend along and I received my copy, but only after I met Kumar, so I couldn't get it signed. But, and this is one of the highlights of being at Barts, she sometimes lectures at our uni (being an ex-student here herself), so a couple of weeks later I got it signed after one of our lectures with her! Since then I've bumped into her on the tube a few times, and we have our little heart-to-hearts about medicine and life :)
Oh and another thing that happened in November was that we got two rabbits.
The beginning of December involved us taking an exam for Cardio-resp and Metabolism, and with me and my Charity Week antics, it meant I had to revise extra hard for it. I walked out of the exam not knowing whether I had passed or failed (I did pass alhamdulillah), but what we were all looking forward to after the exam was over were the holidays, which were only a two-week module away! This module was half chosen by us (based on competition for places), and what I ended up getting was 'communicating bio-medical information to young people', or in other words: fun. We began by meeting Nora, our tutor, and she took us to the Centre of the Cell (a place in our research building where schools visit and do fun activities), and let us sit in on one of the visits. The rest of the two weeks involved planning for a presentation we were due to give to some year 6 children at their school (we chose to do it on the heart), and bringing in sheep hearts added to the 'interactivity'. Suffice it to say, that was the highlight of our presentation, and indeed the two weeks. The module ended with a tour of the Science Museum given by Nora, as she used to work there. My my, how the good childhood memories were revisited!
And then came the holidays; two weeks of meeting friends, chilling (especially with the snow), and having a 'sleep-over' which combined the two. Goodbye 2010 :)
By the way, I have this massive feeling that I'll be meeting a very special person in two years. I don't know who this special person is, and I don't know why two years specifically, but let's wait and see :)
My three months in status updates:
*First week back at uni and it feels like I've learnt more than the whole of last year!
*doesn't get the jubilee line. Like every weekend these past two years, you're supposed to be letting me down today!
*I spoke too soon; the jubilee line never fails to disappoint :/
*Guys stop crying over not seeing Johnny Depp visit our uni; we are the real celebrities!
*Whacked in the eye during training yesterday, and the PBL room clock falling on my head today... whoop de doo! :P
*I'm just making everyone aware... paediatric intensive care has been taken by me (in my head). You can all fight over the second place :)
*Psychiatry is awesome, literally! I've never said 'wow' after seeing a patient before! :O
*bumped into Prof Kumar on the tube again. Look out for my name on the 8th edition of Clinical Medicine! :P
*One of the best feelings you can have is when the film you're directing finally takes shape, and all you thought was impossible becomes a blissful reality.
*has a special place in his heart for London transport, and it's filled with nothing but hate.
*can't believe I've been duped out of £49 from amazon.co.uk; free amazon prime trial indeed!
*I take my last status back... thank you amazon! :D
*has had the CRAZIEST of days! Unfathomably crazy... << the heart attack day
*is forever indebted to *deep breath* Talha Ansari, Farhan Ullah, Abid Akhtar, Sultana Azam, Farhaan Saraf, Adnan Shah, Shaheed Walji...
*[continued]... Harry White, Sarah Wylie, Shehzad Kiani, Humza 'Sheikhy' Sheikh, Ali Bakir, Aamna Adel...
*[coninued again]... Fizza Hussain , Saadia Aziz 'Day-dee', Misbah Haq , Mohammed Ali , Hali Bizzle, Anam Ali...
*[coninued, last one]... Aria Khani, Ferduche Emm, Nabila Esha Z, Suleman Sainel Kanani , Eamon Lahrach and everyone else who got involved. In terms of awesomeness and teamwork, we OWN charity week! And look out for the DVD version of our charity week film (with out-takes) <3
*can't find it in myself to wear Thursday socks on a Tuesday... quite sad :/
*Great, the tubes are suspended on the morning of a Kumar lecture :@
*had a day full of meetings, but got my Kumar and Clark book signed aand is now the proud owner of a sonic screwdriver :)
*Big up the jubilee line driver who's keeping us entertained during these delays. I almost don't want to get off at my stop! :D
*My back has probably infarcted over how much we spacehopped today. We went from Hyde Park to Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Embankment, Westminster, then the London Eye, Blackfriars, Millennium Bridge, St Pauls and finishing up at Barts Hospital! And yes, we did get a 'stop and account' from the police :D
*Interviewing schizophrenic patients is certainly one way to spend your Eid! :D
*gives anyone the right to give me a punch if I haven't done my writeup by tomorrow... (this should be enough of a motivation :))
*would just like to say good luck to all the freshers in their Funmed exam tomorrow... you'll feel amazing after it's all over!! :D
*Highlight of the day: listening to and touching a fistula, and everyone saying 'wow' when it was their turn :P
*will be back when the tsunami of xfactor-related statuses has passed...
*You know you've done too much kidney revision when peach slices start to resemble renal cortex...
*Thyroxine levels must be through the roof today! ¬_¬
*So what was that thing I was planning to do when exams were done? Oh yes, relax :)
*has had to slightly alter the letter to my MP as it turns out all lib dems are voting For the tuition fee rise! Whaaat?!
*Feeling so betrayed right now
*With only 9 men starting, a draw is a good result! Well done Cricklewood United Football Club !! :D
*is 22 years old and still looking forward to sleeping over tonight :)
*Based on that performance, I am NEVER going to clean out the cat litter tray again! Omg, I need a shower.
How could I have forgotten the spacehop we did for Charity Week? That was seriously awesome, and on the Lord Mayor's day too, which meant we witnessed a fantastic firework display on our back-straining travels!
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