A Guide To Conversing With Doctors

Following my previous post about growing up with a doctor as a father, even though I've moved out since, doctors are still somehow prevalent in my life. Don't get me wrong - I have nothing against them. They are all heroes in my eyes. But through some way or another, I've found myself amongst the ladies and gentlemen of the medical profession.

In fact, I ended up in such a predicament just the other weekend. I had dinner with my brother, his girlfriend, and my best friend - all of whom are doctors. If I had choked on something during the meal, not only would I immediately receive the Heimlich manoeuvre, they'd probably sterilise utensils on the dining table and slice me open, right then and there. And as you can imagine, the flow of conversation quite naturally drifted towards the topic of their occupation.

Thankfully, I've had the social training to blend in amongst them, and nod along just enough to get by in the complex discussion. So here's my personal guide to surviving a conversation with doctors:

1. No body part, male or female, seen or unseen, inside or out, is off-topic. Guts, scrotum and anuses are all fair game. Get used to this, and try to hide your gag reflex.
   
   
   
2. You will not understand any of the acronyms mentioned, nor be able to pronounce most of the medical terminology used. And if such a word or acronym is the punchline to a joke (... and then I said to the nurse, "I said give the patient the ACCTS before the surgery!), just laugh when other doctors laugh.
   
   
3. Doctors see more penises than you see clouds. I don't know what kind of diseases are popular amongst men these days, but someone, the penis is always involved. Always. The inevitable willy or two will pop up (pun intended), so mask your shock (or giggles, if you're a 12-year-old like me). Also, if you're a guy and the word "catheter" is mentioned, don't ask what it is. Just don't.
   
   
   
4. Any chance you get, curse the NHS or the administration. They're the lawyers of the medical world - play it safe by insulting a common enemy. Feel free to be creative here (e.g. Screw the NHS! They can suck my testicles! Using the correct anatomical names gives you bonus points).
   
   
   
5. Never have a thick or slushy drink during such conversations. For some strange reason, bodily fluids always make their way into stories (whether intentionally or as an aside). Avoid chocolate milkshakes at all costs.
   
   
   
6. At any instant in the conversation, the topic may become very dark and grim, so be prepared for that. Having said that, also be ready to jump right back if it becomes black humour, and making fun of someone's misery is socially acceptable. It's a fine line, I know.
   
   
   
7. NEVER in ANY circumstance complain about the hours of your own job.
   
   
   
8. Nurses can either be a doctor's best friend or worst nightmare. So, listen in on which kind they're talking about, and on cue, either say "Awww..." or "That bitch!".
   

   

   
   

9. If by any chance you are ill or experiencing any pain whatsoever, don't bring it up. 90% of the time, it's something minor and insignificant, and you will be prescribed a "Man-the-hell-up" pill.
   
   
   
10. They lead incredible lives and they have really interesting stories to tell, so enjoy the conversation.

I'll admit, at first, some of the stories are difficult to stomach (har har har). But soon enough, you get past the gore and intensity of the job, and you find out that these are admirably hardworking and astoundingly smart people that save lives for a living. And they too have regular job problems: working overtime, office politics, stressful deadlines (really dark pun not intended), and the like. But if you ever find yourself in such a conversation, sometimes it's just nice to sit back and listen to their fascinating stories, just as I do.

Plus, it's hilarious trying to count how many times they say "penis".

A Longing

When I started this blog, I promised myself this would not be an angst-ridden, teenage outlet for my woes. I know how dreadful and boring it is to just read misery that has no goal or point. But with this post, I hope there is a deeper meaning. I write to express, but I also write to affect. The goal of my blog is to question your thinking, to raise insight, and to leave an impact. If even just one person experiences a change in thought after reading one of my pieces, that will be the success of this blog. So with this piece, as any other, I express, but I also seek to challenge. This post is for myself, as well as all those that are longing for something or someone.

Last night, I attended the Pentatonix concert. At one point, Avi brought the pace of the show down for their peacefully melancholic original song, Run To You (I highly recommend this song. I've posted it above as I feel it would be fitting to listen to it whilst you read the rest of this post, if you wish to do so). He introduced the piece as a song of longing, and explained that everyone longs for something in life. He then directed the crowd to close their eyes, and to imagine the one thing or one person we each longed for. Without closing mine, I saw the person in my mind's eye right in front of me, and I continued to see and sense her throughout the performance.

There is something I dislike about the word 'longing'. Longing implies a sense of helplessness and hopelessness. To long for something is lonely, desperate and endless. It's a long distance run you can't finish. It's the long wait for an unanswered question. It's a drawn out and long ordeal of agony. I instead prefer other words, such as to seek, or to chase, or to reach. See, if you seek, you can find; if you chase, you can catch; if you reach, you can obtain. But when you long, you only continue to yearn.

And yet, I still long. I wilfully climb the insurmountable mountain. But why? Perhaps it is my human condition to sadistically desire the forbidden and the impossible. But I rather think that we long because the object of longing is a symbol of perfection. Nothing is perfect in this world, except for what we perceive. We choose what we wish to see as perfection. And perhaps, I long because I've witnessed my personal perfection. I believe in my heart the object of my longing is someone worth longing for and the inevitable torment that entails, even when the odds are stacked against me, and it seems the end is ever further. But it is crucial to remember that to long for something is a choice and a concious decision, just as it is to personify someone as perfect. I have no one to blame for my predicament but myself. And so I seek, I chase, I reach because I don't want to long any more.

But I am running a race I have lost before I even started. I may be the fastest, but there is no finish line I can cross. It is a never-ending marathon, destined never to amount to anything. Yet I ran and I ran and I ran. Run To You provokes heartfelt emotions, but it is not the song that reflects best how I feel. I don't like posting songs or lyrics on my Facebook as a way to tell everyone how I feel. Not only does it feel cryptically attention-seeking, it feels stagnant. As much as I do listen to particular songs to match my mood, there is something hopelessly defeating and depressing about listening to a song as an expression of misery, because the song never changes. The lyrics never alter to show signs of progress or the hope of a happy ending. And just like the sense of longing, it only drags on and repeats the same inescapable chords. 

However, today, as I listen to Run To You, I realised the opposite of longing: to accept; to succumb; to surrender. I accept my fate, I succumb to the pain of the unending chase, and I surrender to my defeat. 

My antonym of to long is to stop.

Sunk Costs: An Economics Lesson In Moving On

In economics, a sunk cost refers to a retrospective cost that has already been incurred and cannot be recovered. Traditional economics suggests that sunk costs should not influence business decision-making, as it would not be rationally assessing a decision based on its own merits. But, as behavioural economics proves, this is not always the case in real life. Business decision-makers are after all humans, and humans are prone to loss aversion - i.e. they have a tendency to prefer avoiding risks rather than acquiring gains. All in all, this means decision-makers end up taking into account these irretrievable costs, despite the fact that it is irrational to do so.

I didn't do Economics as my undergraduate degree, but a lot of my friends did. A few in particular love this "sunk costs" inside joke, where they'd use its theory in day-to-day decisions. They'd try to describe to me what it meant, but usually to my confusion (thankfully, Wikipedia is a thing). Basically, it just teaches that you should just accept that some things are hopelessly gone - just because you've gone down a certain path does not necessarily mean you should keep going the same way, so stop living in the past.

For example, if I had already spent money in the game League of Legends, that is a sunk cost (true example) - I cannot get that money back. Now, I have another chance to spend even more money, and as a stupid human with stupid feelings, I feel like since I've already invested money in the game, it would almost be a waste of that first amount to not spend more (also a true example). WRONG. The mere fact that I had spent money in the first place should not affect whether I spend more. It would not be rational. Result? I spend more money. Why? Because, as I said, I'm stupid.

So what other sunk costs do we fail to ignore? What about time? Time is definitely something we spend (literally, every second of our lives), and it is definitely irretrievable. No man on this world has the power to take back the time he has lost. So when we invest time into things in our lives, should we be rational and not let it affect our future decision-making?

Something I made in reference to the Cantonese song, 
Tourbillon (陀飛輪) by Edison Chan (陳奕迅).

Instead of Economics, I studied Law at university. About halfway into my second year, I realised I had made a grave mistake. Not only was I not particularly interested in my degree, I was no good at it. At all. Now, I had the option to either a) change subjects, possibly even university, or b) carry on with my chosen degree. Sunk costs dictate that time lost is lost; there's no going back. Given my projected trajectory with the degree, I was predicted to defeat. So what did I do? "I've already come so far. It'd be a waste of the last one-and-a-half years to not do the rest." - I carried on. Economically irrational? Yes. The wrong decision? Retrospectively speaking, I have no regrets whatsoever. I got my degree in Law in the end, but it took my everything to do so. But I would do it all over again given the chance.

This got me thinking about other things we spend time on - like relationships. We invest time into them, to build and foster a bond with that person. But when a decision needs to be made, shouldn't we ignore time as a sunk cost? If we were smart, we would assess the situation on its own merits. Weigh up the pros and the cons, without the sunk cost in the picture, because what's happened won't change.

But in the end, we do take it into account. Because we're irrational and stupid? No - because it matters. Time in a relationship is what makes the connection deeper and more meaningful. I don't really believe in "love at first sight". What I do believe is that relationships of love require time, work and effort. Ask any experienced, married couple. Time does add value, and it does change the decision outcome. What I do agree with however is that it is only a single consideration. Obviously, there is always a lot more to take into account, and you can't be blinded by sunk costs like time. I hate the idea of 'settling' with someone (not to be confused with 'settling down') just because you've been together for a certain period of time. You're not going to get any of that time back by investing even more, so there's no point in 'sticking through with it' if that's you're only argument.

However, I think we should consider time invested, but only as equally important as time to be invested. Jumping back to economic theory, prospective costs are future costs that may be incurred if an action is taken. And these do matter to business decision-makers, because that loss can be avoided if the right decision is made - it's a risk. So when we consider our relationships, it's worth also thinking about the potential time we're committing to. After all, all time in the future eventually becomes irretrievable, too.

In the end, economics and love don't mix very well (no matter what my friends say). Love just isn't an economical decision - it's too hard to be rational with it. Heck, we can't even do it right and avoid loss aversion when we're making business decisions, let alone ones that the heart is involved with. Ultimately, we dwell on the past, whether we mean to or not. But hopefully, we try to think ahead as well. We might not get any of our time back, but in the end, aren't we all really just trying to avoid bankruptcy?

Bad Day

I had a bad day today. Actually, I've been having a few bad days recently. But as I begin to pity myself and internally mope and gripe, I think of my role model and lifelong idol, Mr. Leslie Chow, where he once posed:

Did I die? Nope. Did I come close to dying? No, not really. So does that mean I didn't have a bad day?

I've been trying to keep tight-lipped about these negative feelings. No one enjoys listening to someone else grumble. Heck, even I get tired of listening to myself whine. Besides, I'm just dealing with the so-called "little things": work hiccups, annoying chores, uncontrollable feelings, etc. The usual stuff. But in the grander scheme of things, aren't these simply irrelevant? There are a lot bigger struggles a person could face. Like being homeless. Like not having clean water. Like not knowing whether there will be food on the table tonight. So on this spectrum, doesn't that just make me a whiney little bitch?

Perhaps I'm being too hyperbolic. However, even at a closer level, it seems like the things I worry about don't really matter that much. So I had a bad day at work, but what does that really entail? A simple mistake? Having to re-do a small portion of my work? My brother is a doctor; he works to save lives. When he has bad days at work, he doesn't come home until past midnight because he's staying behind to make sure all his patients are thoroughly and properly attended to. That spreadsheet mistake I made suddenly doesn't look so problematic anymore.

As much as it makes me feel stupid and small, in the larger context of everything around me, I'm not struggling very much - I'm getting by just fine. For most, I'm not having a bad day at all; things could be a lot worse. And whilst I think this is a good view to take to humble myself and keep my feet on the ground, I'm not everyone else - I'm only me. Which means the problems I face affect me in my own context.

I think we tend to give people a hard time about their issues because we are in hopes of making them believe that there are greater battles to face - ones that they may notice if they weren't so burdened by "the little things". For instance, it's often said that parents tend to misunderstand their teenage children easily. They assume that their high school worries are trivial at best:

"Jess said Sarah told her that she heard from Vicky that I told Hailey that Hannah called Liz a bitch. And now it looks like I'm the bitch!"

"He pushed my tray of food right off the table as I was walking back to my seat. Everyone in the cafeteria was chanting and laughing at me." (true story, bro)

"I fancy him, but he doesn't even know I exist." (not a true story, bro)

And yes, maybe sometimes we make mountains out of molehills. It's very easy to be blinded by something that is too close to you, and I'm no different. But in the context of our own world, these things do matter. My apocalypse may be someone else's walk in the park, but that doesn't change how it affects me. I still experience that bad day, and all the emotions that come with it.

So the next time you see someone having a bad day, ask why (I'm very thankful for the friends and family that do notice and ask, even when I'm trying to keep it on the inside). The little boy that dropped his ice cream, and the guy that just lost his job with a family to feed might both be going through hell. But as an outsider, provide to them both sympathy for their personal context as well as the grander scheme of things. Sometimes, it helps them move on because they needed to step back, look at the bigger picture, and realise there's more to it. And sometimes, it helps to just have someone pat you on the back and tell you: "Yeah, that really does suck, dude."

So, am I really having a bad day? Well, I've had worse days, but I've also certainly had better. I think I'll chalk this up to a bad one, because after all, bad days only last one day. I'll feel like crap for a bit, eat something not on my diet, and get to bed earlier. Here's to a better day tomorrow.

And for all those that might be having a bit of a downer right now, here's me dressed up as none other than Mr. Chow himself for Halloween:

Toodaloo, mudafuckaaaaaaaawowowowow

My First Ever Cosplay Experience

During the course of this past year of living in London, I've taken the attitude that I should be doing more new things: watching plays, going to concerts, meeting new people, etc. I'm in a really amazing city, and I think there's so much to be taken advantage of - not to mention, now that I'm leading a more independent lifestyle, I really should explore more. And it is with this hearty attitude, I decided to do something I've always thought about: cosplay at a big comic convention.

To briefly sum up my interest, I love the idea of comic cons. I've never attended one before, but I've read and watched a lot about the ones in the US. A gathering of all things nerdy and awesome just seemed like the ideal event for me to attend.

Now, admittedly, I attended the much smaller London Film and Comic Con a couple of weeks back, but that was nothing compared to the extravaganza of MCM London Comic Con that I just attended. Simple put, I just wasn't prepared for what was to come. I could go over the details of the actual convention, but I'm sure that aspect is covered elsewhere in more detail than I could possibly try. To sum up my point of view, it's a hot, crowded and busy mess. Incredibly fun, but also incredibly overwhelming. When I go next year, I will definitely be more prepared. Instead, I want to capture my first cosplay experience.

My costume was very simple, and was a reimagining of this following version of a character, Almost Prom King Amumu:

Sad Amumu is sad.

As backstory, this is a character from the immensely popular game League of Legends. Amumu is known as the Sad Mummy, and is often the focus of sympathy. All his versions are of him in unfortunate predicaments, and in this case, of him almost becoming prom king - but not quite. So from the get-go, quite an antisocial character to play. But here's how it went down...

My Almost Prom King Amumu cosplay - plushie not included.
Someone just handed it to me for a photo!

I was having trouble finding the League of Legends meet-up point (as arranged via the Facebook Group), but fortunately, noticed a very familiar top hat and sniper rifle. As it turns out, a fellow League cosplayer was also looking for the meet, and with the kind assistance of this Caitlyn (whom later was so friendly, offered to add me on Facebook), we had managed to track down the already amassed team (as it turns out, it's hard to miss a scarecrow on stilts and a dude holding a massive golden bow). They were all lining up for a big group shot, so as the two of us approached late, we were openly welcomed to join in the photo. And this is where the surrealism begins.

As I nervously approached the side of this (much larger than expected) line-up, people were cheering. But not only for all the other cosplayers, but also for me. I heard from the crowd taking photos:

Look! It's Amumu!

Aww! He even has a tear on his face!

And most excitingly:

Don't worry, Amumu! You'll get to be prom king next year!

Without skipping a beat, these people knew who I was cosplaying. And they were fans of it. As the feeling of exuberance began to take a hold of me, I mustered, in character, a loud:

Okay...

And for me, the best compliments I heard on the day weren't "That's an amazing/impressive/accurate cosplay!", but rather: "Aww..." or "Don't be sad!" - even though I was beaming underneath my mask, because they understood and appreciated my cosplay.

What followed was a frenzy of photo-taking* and gleeful admiration of the people around me. Despite my costume being quite lacklustre compared to the absolutely astonishing standard of cosplay, people couldn't have been more friendly and accommodating. At first, I was trying to get a hold of other cosplayers to take pictures with because they all simply looked so amazing. I would shyly ask for their photo, before obsessing over the details of their cosplay. We'd strike our poses, not to one camera, but a plethora of cameras and smartphones (as I later discovered, there is no one single correct camera to look to at any one time). When snapping a pic with a Thresh, I knelt to the ground next to his lantern, and without a second thought, he loomed over me and latched his hook onto my shoulder in sync. When snapping a pic with a Vladimir, I offered to Bandage Toss him, and he instantly obliged with a stunning pose (pun intended). I started talking to a very tall Singed about how difficult his costume was to wear and carry around; I gawked at an incredibly accurate and impressive Aristocrat Vayne; and I discussed the Fifth Age with an absolutely fabulous and outrageous Taric.

Helping Singed with a loose piece on his shield

One of my most favourite cosplays at the meet:
Aristocrat Vayne

This Taric was too fabulous for words.

But soon enough, bystanders that were just at the meet-up were randomly coming up to me and asking: Amumu, can I get a picture with you? The idea that a stranger wanted a photo with me took me aback every time. And then other cosplayers wanted to take pictures with me. In fact, some random steampunk dude asked for - wait for it - a hug! I'll be honest, I certainly wasn't the most popular cosplayer at the scene, and I honestly wasn't expecting anyone even noticing me there, but I wholeheartedly appreciated every single person that came up to me and asked for a photo (even after the meet-up). All I can say is that it felt surreal the entire time. It's not just photo-taking; it's this collective energy that creates an atmosphere of sheer enthusiasm.

This Thresh cosplayer instantly Death Sentences
me as I kneel down

My Bandage Toss at Vladimir was a bit short.
But at least I landed the skill shot!

So what did I get from all this? Was it just a moment for me to narcissistically enjoy undeserved semi-fame? Well, I think it's much more than that. Before this entire experience, I thought cosplay was exclusively withheld for pretty people with sewing skills - a higher calibre of person than me in every aspect. And without a doubt, there were a fair few of these types of people at the meet-up that looked remarkable. But the reason why cosplay is so cool is because it's all about the coming together and acceptance of one another. It's like automatic entry into the cool club - except this is the cool club you actually want to be a part of. We were gathered together because we all enjoyed something really nerdy, and we were embodying it in a way that is the most fun for us. And when it comes down to it, that's basically why any other type of club or social circle is formed: common passion. Except, I guess ours is a bit more extravagant.

I was extremely nervous and self-conscious about doing my first cosplay. Mine was nothing of the level that was present. But I would definitely do it again - but perhaps with a bit more oomph. The cosplayers at the meet-up weren't some judging panel on their high horses; they were just guys and girls that liked dressing up as their favourite characters - much like me. Underneath the helmets, make-up, and blood red contact lenses, they were just cool people. And I got the chance to be a part of that community in an instant - no questions asked.

This experience has been eye-opening for me; it really wasn't just a matter of dressing up. It's the idea of being celebrated and welcomed purely on the grounds of a common passion. I just don't think that's found too frequently. And frankly, I can't speak for all the cosplayers at the convention, but I can definitively tell all those reading this now that the League of Legends cosplayers at the October 2013 London MCM Comic Con were all friendly, energetic, awesome people. And I can't wait to see them all again next May.

Getting ready for a group shot

So, I guess that leaves the question: who to cosplay next?


*As a side note, I can't post this without giving a big shout-out and thank you to my friend whom I dragged along with me to this meet. Without her help, these photos would not exist, and she gave me the confidence and push to actually ask other cosplayers for photos. So thank you!