Tough love

"I guess there is no other option" I'm telling myself aloud, also with a faint hope that Kelvin my new gym buddy got a few brighter ideas between his ears.

The iron bar felt as cold as ice and would had yelped if it were alive as I held it tight within my grip.

"I know this is gonna hurt you more than you gonna hurt her" There's 70% tone of empathy in his voice, and I swore that the other 30% has a slight humorous hint in it. I'm gonna kick him in the arse afterward. But as for now, first thing first.

I raised the devil up in the air aiming at my car's right rear window. My baby is looking helplessly at me. Kelvin took a few step away, maybe he didn't want to end up chewing pieces of tinted glass tonight.

The chilly night wind blowing mercilessly. Time stood still.

"Well here goes nothing.. I'm sorry dear" the bar made a 'swoosh' sound as I swing it down and made a direct hit on the window.

***

"What the...??" Kelvin mumbled some R18 words.

We both look at each other, amazed at what had just happened.

Checkmate (shah mate = the king is dead)

I bumped into my best buddy from UKM matriculation days. So we took a trip down the memory lane over a quick dinner. Which mainly revolved around good old days, old flames and other long lost friends. We were quite close and had entered 2- 3 chess tournaments back in our glory years.

That somehow rejuvenate my interest in chess. I haven't played it for a while, reason mostly I got no-one in my circle whom enjoy the game or let alone plays it. Most of them who own a set would hide it somewhere underneath the staircase.

Fate had it that last weekend I stumbled across a poster at a local KFC outlet saying "Chess (catur) games this sunday at 2pm, join us and have some fun". I said to myself "why not.. this is too perfect to be a coincident". Thus with that in mind I felt the spirits of legendary chess players such as Bobby Fisher, Boris Spasky, Kasparov and Emmanuel Lasker had re-entered by body once again. The time has come for me to return back from my premature retirement.

I was the first to arrive, followed by other players who came and sat at the other table. So I said to myself this is just perfect... small number of players, small event (too small in fact). Just a couple of rounds to get it off my system and I'll have a merry weekend.

And finally they brought the box and to my surprise (I had bit too much of those this week)...

"What the....(toot!)... a local 'monopoly-wannabe gameboard!!" I shouted silently to my good ear. Oh come on guys, are you saying that when the brilliant mind whom invented this new game, suddenly ran out of ideas on what to name it. So I smiled politely and left.

Back in my bat-dungeon, I decided not to be disheartened by that mild hiccup. If I can't find a decent game in my own neighbourhood. I might as well cross the Pacific. And that was how I met my 2 new friends, from Nashville and New Jersey. I got few good opening moves and brilliant middle games.. up till the chess.com online server got disconnected, twice.

Well.. whadayaknow, nothing is perfect.. not even a clear blue sunday sky.

Ambushed!

What should have been quite a quite on call yesterday had turned 180 degrees into 'the battle for internal jugular vein' by midnoon. Not since the Japs surprised the Yankee navy armada in a remote Pacific naval base called Pearl Harbour, has human history witnessed the kind of shock and awe I get when I found out that I had to perform an elective internal jugular vein catheterisation on a warm Saturday afternoon, for a what supposed to be a regular haemodialyis.

Despite a massive radar support via an ultrasound machine, the vein seem to shy away from my 16 gauge needle.

Thank God I didn't hear any 'popping sound', the last thing I want on my bloody hands today is an iatrogenic pneumothorax, bilaterally.

Have I renewed my medical practice insurance policy? Gulp!

Flashback

I was called up to see a late referral at 1am the other night. The surgical had messed up this one pretty good. What started as an upper abdominal pain was seen and dismissed because per rectal examination was omitted and it's only late at night when someone realised that the haemoglobin had dropped from 10 to 6 g/dl.

Intravascular volume depletion is the name of the game and they managed to do some damaged control by pumped in multiple bags of pack cell transfusion and colloid drip to stabilise the blood pressure and planned for an urgent scope.

I arrived at the scene and almost had a heart attack when I saw the patient in the most unimaginable state. I could almost here the sound of 'exorcist' music tune played in the background.

"Hey don't look at me, that uncle like it that way" Ganesh the surgical MO gave me the defensive look.

"Well just tell him that fashion is so 70's, plus be careful of what you wish, coz you might get it" I gave him a dry smirk.

After completed my assessment I fixed my eyes on Ganesh "Here's the scoop buddy, urine's is kinda slow here but that's because he's dry, don't worry he's non-acidotic and potassium in normal. You fix the tummy and pour in the blood, once the bleeder is caught, his hydration and kidney would behave like a good boy".

As I walked out of the ward, I heard Ganesh's spoke over the phone to the scope room "Okey guys we're going in!"

I smiled. That somewhat sounds familiar.