Escalator Escapades

The escalators in Singapore run at 299,792,458 meters per second, or in layman's terms, the speed of light. Each time when I step on, I look like an agoraphobe stepping out of my house for the first time in twelve years pushing myself to agonizingly get on an escalator to venture into the world.

I stand there and put my foot out, whip it back, put my foot out, start sweating, take it back, finally take a deep breath and jump on in the hopes that I make it onto a step.

I ride with my cheeks and hair flying back while holding onto the side rail as my feet struggle to stay on the step. My fingers dig into the plastic of the rail and slowly slide back with the air current.

Then comes the getting off.

I brace myself to jump and make the leap and my entire body grinds to an abrupt halt and I have to hold tightly onto my clothing, so as to not let it fly off in the speed of the moment.

I think it may be possible that the sole thing I look forward to getting back to in the States are escalators that you can mindlessly step on and off of without fear of public humiliation, emotional distress and bodily injury.

Sunny with a Chance of Monkey Ambush

Today we woke up early to go on the HSBC Tree-Top Hike with our Nursing Director, Beth. We had to get up early because there is no way we could hike any time after 11 here, as we would melt. The tree top hike is a hike at McRitchie Reservoir that allows you to hike across a bridge that is about 25 meters from the forest floor. It allows you to see the tops of the trees - a view the monkeys have every day (spoiler alert)! We started off at 0830 and were dripping by 0834. It was a fantatic view once you got up there. After the bridge, we decided to hike on to the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve. Little did we know that would take longer than four hours.



We enjoyed our time, though, even though it was extremely hot and a hard hike. We saw a bunch of large monitor lizards . . . and monkeys. So we were searching for monkeys the entire time and hadn't seen any of them by 11. Finally, we saw a few. We managed to take a bunch of pictures of them being cute, grooming and lounging on the trees.



We then heard one monkey making the weirdest sound, right above us. I thought, "oh, I hope he's okay." Hmm. What I should have been thinking was "oh, I hope we are okay." We looked forward onto the trail ahead and saw roughly THIRTY (I know exaggeration is part of my personality but trust me, I am not embellishing at all this time) monkeys - coming towards us. If I wasn't writing my will in my head and deciding who - Liz or Beth - to throw in front of me and use as a shield when they attacked, I would have taken a picture. Sheer horror struck us all and we realized that we were about to be the victims of a monkey ambush. Damn my orange peels in my bag. We stood frozen in our tracks for a minute as they inched towards us.



Then our savior, Katut (pronounced Ka-toot), yelled from behind "naughty monkeys! naughty monkeys!" We turned to see a Singaporean carrying a bag of Durians (undoubtedly fresh from the tree tops) and a stick. He was waving the stick in the air. He told us to not make eye contact and to pick up sticks and wave them around. We did so and walked with him into the throng of naughty monkeys. Finally they backed off but watched us closely from the side of the road as we walked on. We were literately shaking in anticipation of a monkey flying into the air and onto our backs to grab our bags and throw our blackberries and water bottles onto the ground in frustration when they found no bananas. Luckily, we made it through the mad riot and safe to the other side of the trail.

We finished our hike around 1230 and our legs were undoubtedly jell-o. I lounged by the pool in the afternoon and read some NCLEX (nursing boards), dozed off and dreamed about the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz. I have no idea why they were plotting our deaths but I WILL find a cute friendly monkey by the end of this journey.

A special thank you shout-out to my main man, Katut for saving our lives. Off to Little India for dinner!



And note the price of our huge dinner for two: 6.90. Mmmmm. Tastes better when it's cheap.

The "real Singapore"

Last night after an all-day palliative care conference at the hospital (the previous day we spent at a hospice, so it was a nice wrap-up) our coworker, Sze Fui, and our clinical coordinator took us out for dinner in Geylang. Sze Fui is a native Singaporean and wanted to show us the non-touristy areas of Singapore. Yes, please. We took the MRT to Geylang and walked a few miles down a road filled with fruit stands on the sides. It was 8pm and everyone was out shopping. Sze Fui pointed out the local fuits and we got to taste a few. The Durian here is a fuit that is actually illegal on the MRT because it is so spikey and smelly. I swear that is why. Apparently it is a fruit that smells and tastes different to everyone; when you ask someone what it is like, they can't describe it and they either detest it or love it. I haven't tried it yet, but I've smelled it from a long way away and I'm not sure if I'm a lover or a hater yet. Locals go nuts for them, though. In fact, on our hike today there were Singaporeans throwing sticks at the trees in hopes that Durian would fall down (spikey fruit shooting down from the sky isn't my idea of a relaxing Sunday).

Geyland is actually known to be the red-light district in Singapore; prostitution is legalized here so Liz and I decided to make a few extra bucks and give it a whirl. I keed, I keed; we walked right on by with our Singaporean tour guide.

She brought us to the largest Hawker stand we've been to yet. I don't know if I've mentioned it but Hawker stands are the most exciting and cheapest places to eat. In the “olden” days, Singapore was full of push cart vendors, selling their tasty wares all over town. In recent years the govt has mandated that the hard-working purveyors should be grouped together into more modern food complexes, with cleanliness and hygiene controlled by strict regulations. They are marked with an A, B, C and so forth. It is so hot and exciting in the stands. We let Sze Fui order food including Sting ray, Rojak (fruit and vegetable dish), Satay, noodles and a sugar cane drink. You actually see them squeeze the canes to make the fresh drink with ice. You order at the stands - it is usually S$1.50 to S$3.00, which amounts to less than 1 American dollar for some things - and give them your table number and they bring it over when it's ready. I loved the Stingray and washed it all down with a Cendol (refer to previous post and newest obession). I can't believe the stands are open until 2am. This city never sleeps.Glad we had a chance to see the surrounding neighborhoods where Sze Fui tells us that "real" Singapore lives.

Bright Flowers and Bright Lanterns

We went to the Botanic Gardens (including the National Orchid Garden) and Chinatown the other day. It was a full-fledged photo shoot so prepare for some beautiful pics when I get the time to upload. The Gardens are huge and houses the largest orchid garden. It was roughly 400 degrees outside but we couldn't wait to get there on our day off (also, no sense in waiting around until it cooled off because that clearly doesn't occur here). There was this weird phenomenon that afternoon: every Chinese engaged couple was there taking photos for their wedding. Did I mention that it was 400 degrees? They men were in tuxedos and the women were in white long heavy dresses attempting to not sweat. Actually there was no attempting; they weren't sweating. I DON'T GET IT. I'm here, in a sleeveless tank, shorts, hair up, and getting closer to dying by the minute. They are there and not an ounce of their makeup is smudged (my face is melting off). It reminded me of the day at the bird park where everyone was in long sleeved shirts and pants and I was wearing an outfit that closely resembled a thong and bra so as not to pass out. I will post pictures that depict me dying and others running along in PANTS. They keep saying I'll get used to it. I'm still waiting.

Anywho, we paid a Sing buck to get into the orchid garden (I ignorantly pronounce the ch as in China each time and then correct myself) and saw some beautiful flowers. My mom would have loved it. My favorite were actually the huuuuuuge leaves that were there. They are legitimately taller than I am (doesn't say much) and so wide. I took a bunch of pics of those. Ironic that I loved the leaves more than the flowers but they were amazing and so overlooked.
Another favorite find at the botanic gardens: defacement of a tree in the name of America. Go U-S-A!
We then went to Chinatown to walk around and eat dinner. It's a fun little part of town where you can eat so much for so little. The streets are narrow and if you look above you can see red lanterns hanging from one side of the street to the other. There are so many stalls to choose from. We actually got some Japonese food in Chinatown, just to be a little backwards. They serve pickled red cabbage and I loved it. They also put everything in soup. Maybe that's why everyone's so dang skinny here. They think they're eating but they're actually getting two peas in broth. That doesn't fool me. I don't just order soup. I order soup in addition to a real meal. I know they are calling us the fat Americans in the kitchen but I don't care. The beers were 50 cents in Chinatown and they are almost 40 ounces. Recipe for a Chinatown disaster after such a dehydrated day in the sun, if you ask me, but we had to. We made it home safe - don't worry.

Fantastic day off filled with sweaty brows, additional freckles added to the nose, beautiful flora, tasty sushi and cold cheap beer.

Emotional and Fantastically Fulfilling Days

When I work a few days in a row, I am reminded how happy I am to be on an oncology floor and how privileged I am to be part of my patient's journeys. I had the same patient a few days in a row and she has definitely been my most difficult patient to date. She is a paraplegic with metastatic breast cancer to her brain and bones. She reminded me all day long how independent she used to be, only three months ago. In the subsequent time, she has lost the ability to hold herself up, roll herself over, walk, completely feed herself and basically do any movements without the help of a nurse. She is a beautiful Chinese woman who is recently bald with a patch over her head covering the needle that the doctor's use to insert chemotherapy into the ventricles in her brain once a week. She was a dental assistant and loves to tell me why she uses two toothbrushes each time she brushes and I help her do so three times a day. She has two children, a husband, loves going to church and is meticulous about where each thing on her bedside table sits.

I could see how annoyed the other nurses were getting at her -- because she rang the call bell about every 4 minutes all shift long. I made sure to run into her room each time, no matter how tired I was. I had to keep in mind that she must be more tired than I. At the end of the 2nd day, she said that I was the best nurse she had ever had - and the thing is, I didn't go extremely above and beyond. It matters to the patients to take time with them. I cried at the gym that night while I was on the treadmill. It's sometimes my way of running away the day, at the end of a shift. Sweat it out. I can think about each of my patients and try to run from the diseases that are creeping up the sides of their bedrails.

I really do think about my dad all day long when I'm at work. The Chinese woman was terrified of a lumbar puncture that she has to do soon. She has such bad back pain that she is so scared to sit still, on her back, for 6 hours post-procedure. The other nurses didn't talk to her about her worries. I remember specifically my father having the same exact fear of not being able to move and be positioned direction on his back, on his bone mets, for hours during a procedure. I talked with her and told her about my father's experience and didn't make light of her fears. I know that this is going to be a hard profession for me to do daily, but it allows me to bring my father's illness and suffering to the forefront of my mind and to be reminded of his unimaginable strength. I am able to use my experience of his experience to benefit others. I know he'd be so proud of me doing what I am doing here; every day I wish I could call him and tell him all about it. He would LOVE the indian food in little india. He would be jewishly scared that I went on a hike near a shooting range today, though (dont' worry, it was completely safe - but he would still cringe, I know for sure).

My preceptor joking told me that I was able to take breaks in the back room instead of sitting in the patients rooms for my break. I said no. I absolutely love what I am doing and have such admiration for the patients, other nurses and doctors helping me through this first step into the world of oncology.

I hope I have my dental assistant again when I'm on the floor tomorrow. She told me I'm flossing wrong so I definitely need her advice. I think that she needs mine, too.

Defying Metabolism

It is possible to eat 5 meals and one dessert a day and lose weight here. Just another reason why I'm burning my ticket home.

Weekend Wrap-up

Finally spent a weekend here in Singapore. We went down to Clarke Quay on Friday night and realized that Singapore nightlife is intense. The Quay is is an area along the waterfront that stretches about a mile or so. It has great bars, restaurants, street performers and plenty of hagglers asking you to eat their fishhead soup and "buy one, free one" beers. Ohhh, you mean "buy one get one free." (Sidenote, "free size" means one size fits all. It doesn't mean you come free of size, unfortunately).


Met some friends here and they invited us over to their house before the Quay. We sat on a roofdeck with a view of the city. The deck came equipped with something that we've been pondering since we got here: drains in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason. His beautiful deck has a huge drain in the middle, as if it were a shower. Our home has one like this in the kitchen and in the bathroom. It makes random sounds, from time to time. I've only been lucky enough to be in the room once when it made the sound. Otherwise, it's a sound off in the distance of another room that makes you wonder. I digress. The view from the deck was beautiful and the cold Tiger beer was beautifuler.


Saturday we went to Sentosa, which is an island off of our current island. Life is rough, I know. It's so dang close you can take a taxi or a cable car ride there. It's a beautiful serene place -- except for Saturday the 20th of June when there was a radio station promotion right on the beach. We lounged on the sand with a view of palm trees and ocean while listening to "come up and try Twister for a t-shirt! Can!!" ("Can" is another singlish phenomenon that means either "can you?" or "you can." That dangling word frustrates me to no end.) We decided to relocate to another part of the beach. We had heard about Cafe del Mar, which boasted a pool on beach. Turns out it was a gross vision of eurotrash, techno and orgies. Poor families on the beach were hiding their children's eyes and running them away from the scene. Liz and I, on the other hand, couldn't take our eyes away. It was like a carcrash; we couldn't stop staring. We finally pryed ourselves away to relax on the beach. How lucky we are to be in a city that has beautiful islands and palm trees (and half-naked humping eurotrash) within walking distance.

Video of Del Mar:


Another highlight of the weekend was the Jurong Bird Park. We tried to go on a hike but the trail was closed to we opted for the bird park, instead. Again, tough life. We first saw a bird show where they let a lot of them lose and let them fly really close to your head. I really just didn't want one to poop on me. However, I failed at that (spoiler alert). We saw ostriches (nasty animals, if you ask me; their bodies are monstrous, their heads are tiny and they have scary eyes that look into your soul and shout "I know what you're thinking"), parrots, penguins, flamingoes, and a whole lot of other birds that I'm not going to try and recall because, I'll be the first to admit, I'm not a huge bird connoisseur. However, some are damn cute, though, like the snowy owl. Big ol' round furface living in the dark. We also got to see the world's largest man-man waterfall; it was in the African bird section of the park and was beautiful. We also bought little cups of white bird food that we brought to a really large enclosed area where you hold it up in the air in the hopes that a cute little birdie will come down and perch on your arm and eat your cup of nasty. Liz held out her hand until it was completely white as all the blood rushed down towards gravity and there were still no birds. Finally after standing in the heat, just dripping with sweat, some birds decided to humour us and eat the milky "food" the trainers provided us with. They are cute at times, but their tongues close up are indescribably disgusting looking. I can think of a metaphor but I it's not PG-13 and I'd like to keep this blog clean.


It really was a beautiful day and I'm glad I got to go to one of the "must-see" spots in Singapore. Oh, the spoiler alert. We go shopping after the bird park and I'm trying on a skirt in the dressing room when I put my shorts back on and see a little token of a bird's love on my bottom. I was okay with it, though, because, unlike the birds, I was able to leave the park. If I were a caged animal, no matter how large my enclosed space was, I'd be doing everything possible to piss off the people paying S$22 to invade my privacy and peer into my cage at my confined life.


...Wow, I can't end on a downer like that. Food makes me happy; let's talk about food. I just ate Cendol after lunch, which is one of the ice desserts that actually originated from Indonesia but are in all of the Kopitian's (food courts) here in Singapore. It looks terrifying but tastes oh so good. It is a must-eat if you come here. It has shaved ice under palm sugar, coconut milk, red beans (beans for a dessert? I know.) and green bean flour strips. I will miss it when I'm gone and I'm going to take a guess there aren't that many places in the States that cook this baby up. Check it out:

Random act of awesomeness

I am on my 2nd (and final, thank god) night shift of this rotation and did something I'm pretty darn proud of. I come in at 7pm and check over my patient's reports, labs, etc. I come across something interesting. She has a right leg DVT (deep vein thrombosis, or clot) and they put an IVC (filter) in today, while I was at home trying to sleep. I say trying, because while I'm ecstatic the Singapore economy is booming, it is impossible to sleep with surround sound construction on all 4 walls of my apartment during the day. Back to tonight . . . so I realize that the write up from the procedure describes the left leg and goes into all the details about the insertion. Interesting.

I read over everything multiple times so as to not point something out and be wrong. Yep, I am confident. I go to the doc and tell him that they did the procedure on the wrong leg of my patient. He looks at me like I'm some dumb nursing student (am I?) and looks over the charts. After about 5 minutes of him looking through the charts in silence, he looks up at me and shakes my hand.

I'd just like to reinforce that I am awesome.

Kuala Lumpur, or "KL"

We decided to venture to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a long weekend. I apologize in advance because clearly, I made it back alive so the ending is spoiled.

We took a "3 hour bus ride" from Singapore straight to KL, as the locals call it, which actually turned out to be a 7 hour bus ride. Let me tell you a little about this bus that is a juxtaposition in itself. The bus was nicer than any bus in the US. The seats were double the size of what I'm used to -- which is ironic because Asian bottoms need half the size of what American bottoms need; they all had ample foot room and seat rests; a comfortable recliner; and they provided snacks and water bottles. What is the juxtoposition is that the way we were driving you would have thought we were on the amazing race from Singapore to Russia and the driver needed to get there in 20 minutes. I saw my life flash before my eyes . . . which was not the first time this weekend (spoiler again). Also: 7 bumpy hours do not go by quickly when you had a few drinks the night before and 4 hours of sleep. Wouldn't recommend it to anyone. I dozed on and off and woke up only to the sounds of blood-curdling screams coming from the "family entertainment" on the tv screen at the front of the bus. For a country that doesn't allow gum-chewing, Singaporean films are the goriest and most violent ones I've ever seen. Oh also, the rest stops. So we get off and find that the stalls are actually holes in the ground, and there is no toilet paper. After doing what I needed to do, I subsequently dropped my waterbottle face down into the hole while trying to hold onto my pants and dignity. Remember that water bottle is all I had for the whole ride from Singapore to KL.

I complained up a storm and whilst doing so, I walked around the corner to find - alas - full sized toilets. Next time I'll keep my complaining and squatting to a minimum before I suvey the premises.

We arrived in KL and realized that we are, in fact, dumber than we had anticipated. We had only Sing Dollars and were in Malaysia. Interesing. After a lot of BS that I won't bore you with, we took a 60 Ringgit cab ride into the city - which actually we found out should have been about 15 Ringgit. Turns out cabbies love to rip-off white people (spolier alert again). Luckily for my Asian-American roommate, she was traveling with one. The driver didn't know where he was going. We took a 2 hour ride that should have been about 20 minutes (theme of the weekend?).

We spent the night at the hotel and made it out alive. I slept about 20 minute intervals with my fanny pack secure to my body all night long. We propped a chair up against the door at the suggestion of a doctor on my floor (I think that was a bit overboard, but I am Jewish and I'm allowed to do that) and were glad when we heard, at about 2am, loud screams in some sort of Chinese or Malasian. I shot up in bed, looked at Liz, clutched my pack to my fanny - er - abdomen, and went back to sleep. . . for 20 minutes at a time. Go ahead and make fun but hey, this girl had her credit card, passport and chapstick in the morning.

The next day we hired a driver to take us to on a tour of the city and the countryside. We got to see the National Museum, National Mosque (a tour of an open-air building in long robes and hoods in 100 degree weather is about as fun as it sounds), the King's Palace, and the Twin Towers. Outside of the city, he took us to the Batu Caves, which is an amazing hindu temple in a large cave in the side of a mountain. It was absolutely my favorite thing I've seen so far. You have to climb about 300 tiny stairs to a temple inside a cave that has holes with light shining down into it from the cieling. Hindus bring their baby boys up those 200+ steps to get blessed. I spent a lot of time at the caves, taking pictures of babies, the cave and the city from the mountainside. I brought some pictures of my dad with me on the trip and planned to leave them in beautiful places. I found a spot where the light was shining through the cave and left one of his pictures there.












After the cave our driver dropped us off in Chinatown and Central Market area. We strolled through and decided to get a fish spa. Now this is supposed to be something tranquil - hence the SPA part. I sat down and couldn't stop laughing and shreiking at the tiny fish biting at my feet. The man trying to sell the spa to onlookers didn't seem too happy about it, as I sucked the tranquility of the moment, but it actually did draw a crowd. Might have just been because I was white, however. I know there is no reason to be afraid of tiny fish willing to suck on my feet for 1 Ringgit, but I'm not a fan of sea creatures and have ticklish feet. So there is my reasoning for my unreasonable behavior at the fish spa.












The cab ride back to the hotel. Dun dun dunnnnn. So, we tell the driver to take us to our hotel, and he tells us that he'll use the meter, which should actually be an improvement from a flat rip-off rate. Turns out that drivers can acutally tamper with the meter, though. I should have realized this when I saw the numbers flying by at lightning speed, but I didn't. It might have been the residual fish spa fear left over that kept me from saying anything. The car also was a piece of S. I got in, and being the jokster I am, said, "you really need a tune up!" Hardy Har Har. Wish I could have taken that back as about 3 blocks from our hotel, the car made a pitiful sound, gave up and grinded to a halt. Yes, the car died and we were stuck in KL. We had to pay the bastard the full amount, which was astronomical due to the flying numbers, and had to subsequently run three blocks home and not make eye contact with any person on the way. I'm still waiting for the "this will be so funny in retrospect" thing because it was 3 days ago and I'm not laughing.

We had dinner at Quattro, a chichi 4-seasoned themed place: summer restaurant, spring lounge, winter bar and autumn club. Liz ended up with a full fish on her plate. I wasn't embarassed to ask the waiter to come over. I said, "we don't know how to approach this. .Help." He picked apart the nonsense and left us with some tasty tasty fish on her plate and the fish head away from her fork. Thank you Malaysian waiter, for humouring the white girl and laughing behind my back and not in front of me for not being able to cut her own food.


Slept better the second night out of sheer exhaustion, I think.

The bus ride home was also exponentially better. However, I think we definitely took part in some sort of drug trafficking from Malaysia to Singapore. The driver, along the way, stopped abruptly on the side of the highway, where there was a single man holding a bag. He took it, didn't exchange a word, and kept going. Then once we got to Singapore, he saw another man on the side of the road, came to an abrupt halt, gave him the bag, and went on his way. I opted to not tastefully inquire about the contents of the bag.

In conclusion, I'm back safe in Singapore in one piece with some nice memories. Dried month-old curry stains on the sheets of the hotel does not seem so bad when you had the chance to see a baby blessed at a hindu temple in the mountains and a bumpy drug-trafficking bus ride sans toilet paper isn't horrible either when you ride along and watch the coconut trees acting out the play of the purple sunset in the background.

KL is two thumbs up for those who like adventure and a bustling city all in one. It has awesome mosques bumped up against towering sky scrapers and palm trees scattered throughout.

And with that, I am off to bed before my first night shift tomorrow! xo

Noteworthy

I would just like to present the fact that I've been in Southeast Asia for over a week, I'm a redhead, and I have yet to get sunburned. Well done, I say.

One of these things just doesn't belong

Begin scene. 7am. Johns Hopkins International Medical Center oncology floor 13D.

Allison: I am looking for Amanda; she's my preceptor for the day.
Asian nurse: Oh, she is in the other room getting report.
Allison: Can you tell me what she looks like so I can find her?
Asian nurse: She looks like you.

Allison: Are you Amanda?
Tall blonde white girl not resembling Allison in any way: Yes.

I'm an angel

You know how I always have said that I wanted the ambassador of Qatar to call me an angel? Well it finally happened today. He has the largest 2 room suite on the floor and just before I left the room said, "you are all angels. You nurses have your own problems and come here and take care of us all day. You are an angel."

As I've said before, there are many patients from the UAE on our floor. Every 3 hours or so, they go to pray in a room that has been designated the prayer room; we hear the prayers through the halls. Apparently if you are sick, the Koran allows you to not pray, but many still do. The women do not go to the prayer room; they stay in the hospital room and pray there.

These patients know how to have babies. They each have an average of eight children. I'm not going to say it's because they were trying to land a male, but they were trying to land a male. They each have a few older women and then usually one man. The jackpot, per se.

So my Arabic is coming along horribly. I've always prided myself on my grammar and yet I have to stare at the names of islands and names of patients here and sound like a second grader. But then again, who else has been called an angel by the ambassador of Qatar? I'll take sesame street phonetical pronunciations any day after that title.

First day down

So we started our clinical rotation today and it was so interesting. I'm on an oncology floor at Tan Tock Seng that is actually a Hopkins floor (the only in the whole hospital). Let me mention that Tan Tock Seng is the hospital that had the SARS outbreak in Singapore six years ago. H1N1 is currently ablaze here (with hardly even a dozen cases) so consequently they fire thermoregulator guns at everyone when they walk through the doors. Luckily, I was only 37.1 degrees . . . which actually came as a surprise to me. I suspected they might turn me away this morning after the 2 block walk from home to the hospital because my clothes were nearly drenched in sweat.

We did rounds with the docs this morning and learned about the patient population. There are many from the UAE and there are actually much fewer from Singapore. We are learning so much about how each culture deals with cancer. For example, many of the patients families do not want them to know their diagnosis. They don't want them to know they are getting chemo; when the nurse goes in to hang a bag, she says, "time for your medicine," and leaves it at that. How foreign to us American trained nurses who are focused on patient-centered advocacy and care. Many of the patients require a full-time translator. Some are wearing religious garb; first thought was: how am I going to give someone a bedbath with that on? I'm not being facecious; seriously, how will I? There are about 30 beds on our unit and 2 are ICU. Many of the patients are there for months at a time. Something fascinating we learned today is that the patients from the UAE are sent here and paid for by their government. Every single bit of their care is paid for! Can you imagine a patient in the US sent overseas for care and the whitehouse footing the bill? Crazy.















Went to Little India tonight and it might as well have been high noon; there were so many out and about! We saw a hindu temple and walked around the fruit/vegetable and many stands.



Oh, I almost forgot. I went on a run today after clinical. Outside. In Singapore. In June. Clearly I WON'T DO THAT AGAIN. Someone should have stopped me on the street. Lord knows they were all staring at me; I just figured it was the white girl/red hair thing again, but I think this time it actually was the "who the hell runs in 100 degree heat" thing. I got 15 minutes into the run and surrendered. So Looking forward to seeing you all 20 lbs heavier in August. Til then . . .

Dirty and thirsty

So I forgot to mention...last night we went to eat at one of the food courts. After ordering something that sounded interesting, and sitting down and devouring most of it, my tongue started to burn. Burn like it's never burned before. I'm sitting in a non air-conditioned open air food court and I'm sweating and burning. I look around to see where the drink counters might be. There are none. Hmm. At this point I'm a mess and my sloppy hands search for napkins anywhere. There are none. Hmm. After sweating more than I would while working out - and sitting calmly in a food court, I ask someone where the drinks are and she tells me "we do not need drink with food. That is what soup is for." Hmm. Oh, so the soup that is currently burning a hole in my tongue is what is supposed to cool me down. I ask for napkins. She looks strangely at me and pulls out a kleenex from her purse. Singapore 1, Allison 0.

Hey kids, they are just freckles

So after 30 hours of traveling, a stop in Chicago and Tokyo, a bottle of free wine, 8 episodes of 24, one racial profile, 2 movies and innumerous uncomfortable naps, I'm here in Singapore! Almost didn't make it when I was told I needed a visa to leave Tokyo to go to Singapore. Funny, because Liz walked right on passed when she is on the exact same trip I am. After I said, "but she's doing the same thing I am," they let me go. Sadly, not the only issue dealing with my odd looks in this part of the world.

The apartment is fantastic - once we got the a/c on. We walked in and immediately shot for the central air and looked out the large windows to all our high-rise neighbors with their windows wide open, enjoying the 98 degree humid air. Thanks, but I'll pass on that. We are right down the street from Tan Tock Seng, the hospital where we'll be working. We're also really close to a few squares - Novena and United - which house a lot of food courts and shops. That is where I first noticed the double-takes and stares.

Apparently Singaporean children have never seen freckles and red hair. As I ate my meals, I pointed out to Liz, my roommate, who was sitting across from me, that children would stare - I mean STARE at me while chewing their food. They'd scoop up more food without even looking down to make sure they got the right fish part on their spoon; I'm much more interesting. I'm going to have to get used to it. Adults do it too, and it's creepy when it's a man, even though I know they are just staring wondering what kind of creature I am. I'm kind of okay when it's a child because they are so darn cute. Which brings me to another issue: Singaporeans, hold on to your children while Allison's in town. I want one. There are so many running around and they're all so tiny. The parents might not even notice one is gone. When I have turned to meet their stares dead on, I've said "hello" and I get a shy smile back, and yes, my heart melts. I'm telling you - I may go Angelina by the end of the trip if I find one who has freckles. That would be much more inconspicuous.

The time change is not easy. It's 12 hours ahead here so basically we lost a day and were exhausted all day today. Hopefully we'll be on target with the jetlag behind us for our first day of work tomorrow.

And to quickly touch upon what you've all been dying to know: yes, my hair has not been holding up well. Goodbye to sleek straight locks. Hello to frizzy inappropriately messy waves. Ahh, humidity. Goodnight for now - wish us luck at our first day of work!