Hijab and stethoscope

So being a health-care professional requires you to be neat and also to have access to your ears for a stethoscope. (Ha-ha, some doctors [rigid in their belief that a stethoscope has very limited uses] would probably cringe at my juxtaposition of health-care and stethoscopes)

Unfortunately I’m not willing to make ear-holes in all my scarves so we have to come up with other options.

The orni/khimaar

Having a long scarf held together with a pin might be an option but may become a little overwhelming when you start concentrating on preventing your scarf from touching the patient.

The Kuwaiti style is an option. I’m not sure of its correct name and come to think of it, I’m not even sure why we refer to it as the Kuwaiti style :o It reminds me of an adaptation of the MMSG (Maritzburg Muslim School for Girls) scarf.  Essentially a sort of tube with a long end that can be draped over your head.  Works great.

The Ameera

This is the most useful option especially with a recent flood of their availability in South Africa. The Ameera (small burqa as some prefer calling it) can be neatly tucked away inside the white coat and obediently stretches when you require your stethoscope.  No problems J

You could also spice up your ameera-look by adding a Spanish-style atop it. This doesn’t interfere with your ear access. Just make sure you secure it well with some sewing pins lest it slips off.

Or else try wrapping a long scarf loosely over the ameera, and again securing it with pins

Shukran to Sabeehah for style tips and comments. And to Hamada for the mannequin head.

Apology for the hasty photos, obviously not my speciality :p 

Update

I too seemed to have without warning, disappeared from the blogging world. I actually had to remove the word “blogger” from my Twitter bio – I can’t be keeping the title when I only force out a post once a month. I felt a little relieved to find that many of the blogs I follow are also somewhat slack on posting. Glad I’m not the only one wrestling with time.


Twitter is one of the problems – it is a micro-blogging site after all, and it just seems so much easier to tweet if I need to vent. Also, I’m exposed to soooo many (too many) opinions on twitter that sometimes I feel I need not create more. We should start living by what’s already been said tweeted and facebooked.

The other big change is that I’ve got wheels :) I’ve finally mastered parking my Toyota Aygo (thanks to my friend) so my worst nightmare is over and I hardly ever switch off anymore. So of course the Waterfront and Mimosa Malls are becoming accustomed to my presence, or if I’m fed up of shopping then I go visit some Muslim families out here. (Strange how one clings onto anything remotely similar to home). It’s weird having a petrol expense to account for now, but I’m loving the independence. I no longer have to ask anyone to take me on a termly grocery shopping expedition, where I would buy everything in excess just so it lasts until another trip. I hate constantly asking people for favours – our family always maintains “ask from Allah, not from people” so I’m terribly grateful I don’t have to anymore. (a Big shout out to all my friends for never making me feel like a burden – may you be rewarded for your kindness).
May Allah keep me safe in my Nura.

And then the other thing is that, we are now academically forth year students. Allahu Akbar. It’s almost frightening to say forth year, I feel I know so little. Anyway, so we’ve began our clinical phase and now I’m convinced I love what I’m studying. It’s amazing to actually see patients, to see the signs and symptoms we’ve tried to by-heart. We’re currently doing our 10weeks through Internal Medicine =very chilled compared to the surgical rotation. Though I must admit, I often experience “that stupid moment in combo with the dumb-look”, coz we don’t know that much and have to guess our way through the drs questions. So we have to keep our Tally (insert Dr N’s accent) in easy access.


Seeing patients is also a source of reflection for me.

Our Geriatric patients remind me of where we might be heading if we reach a similar age. Value youth before old-age.
Our Paeds patients (&their parents) remind me of the trouble my own mother must have experienced with my numerous Sicknesses I used to have as a child. And do not even say uff to them.
And then the 22-year old neuro patient - I recall being bleek after seeing him with his severe cerebellar signs (which he suddenly acquired within three months). Without going into too much detail – he had total loss of coordination and balance. His speech was incomprehensible, he had severe dyskinetic movements on intention. In other words whenever he tried to do something, he would be unable to due to additional movements. He cannot sit-up nor walk. I can only try to imagine his frustration as he can perfectly understand everything we say or ask him to do. Imagine being unable to touch your nose…because you just can’t! Value health before sickness.

My awesome pink stethoscope (sorry for the krappy pic) that my dear sister bought for me. It attracts a lot of attention though. Also not the best thing to have around when I don’t want to be remembered by those doctors. “small girl with the scarf and pink stethoscope”. Whatever.


Until the next post, Ma'salaam

What would you do in this case? #4

You are invited to a Muslim family's house for a meal. They probably cooked special for you. Suddenly you get this frightening, random thought that the meat might not actually be Halaal (There are more than four halaal-certifying organisations in South Africa)
Do you:

A. Just keep quiet, recite Bismillah and Eat.

B. Bluntly enquire where their meat is purchased from.

C. Lie that you are vegetarian (or maybe just became one)

D. Nibble on the salad.(Note, you are the guest so expect being asked why?)

E. Slyly bring up the topic of Halaal-certifying organisations. (BAM! Be ready for debate)

F. Other (explain)
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Studying Medicine

[This post is over a month old, written in the midst of my year-end exams and edited just after that. The new academic year brings a number of updates to this already, but I decided to leave it as is]

So I met a Grade 11 girl briefly at the airport, the other day; and she
asked me what I think about studying Medicine? I stared at her for a while not quite certain on how to answer. I was still waiting for exam results (*Nightmare*) so she got me in a wrong mood. Anyway, I managed to evade the question by elaborating on "hard work /consistency/IfYouLoveItDoIt" stories.

In retrospect, I decided studying Medicine can be likened to Bipolar Mood Disorder. This is especially true since mania and depression can occur within the same month, if you're lucky even within the same day.
(For the record: this post was written in jest and has nothing to do with bipolar disorder)

Manic Phase

• Experienced when you elicit the biceps reflex on your colleague for the first time. No wait. The knee-jerk is a lot much more fun.
• You can say dysdiadochokinesis. And you know what it means.
• Can impress people by talking about the small and rather insignificant facial muscle called "Levator labii superioris alaeque nasi" or when you say "keratoconjunctivitis sicca" and all you mean is 'dry eyes'.
• You actually understand the nervous system- you can talk about pathways and synapses with understanding. And think of everything that's happening when move your toes and when you're brushing your hair or driving or playing basketball (oops, I sound like Dr Z).
• The most hilarious jokes have to come outta med school. Everyone would agree on this :D
• You managed to spot aptly enough to get a distinction for a test. WOW. Brilliant. Note – these students are fully aware that they know bugger-all about what they just wrote. Spots and short-term memory fit well together.
• You are asked what you studied. This is the best high-school-like feelings ever.
• An ECG is no longer a series of squiggly lines.
• You draw blood successfully on a real patient (not Mr Cronje/Mr Green) for the first time.

Depressive Phase
This is characterised by tremors, palpitations, hysterical laughter and sporadic increased lacrimal gland secretions. "Why the hell am I studying Medicine???" is dilemma often faced during this phase.

• You fail an OSCE because you could not put up a neck brace. #Fail. (WTH! If the neck brace is there in that emergency situation, surely someone who can use the darn thing would be accompanying it. Just saying)
• The impending doom experienced when you sit staring at the question paper wondering how you can suck out 10marks worth of pharmacology. Ah well, it's drug interactions so we'll just alternate between increase and decrease drug concentrations. Why not throw in a 'no effect' as well. (you would probably manage to score 1/10, or 1.5/10 if you're good at this game).
• You see (in a test) the name of a drug or syndrome or bacteria that you've never heard of before. And now they asking you some detail about it.
• The assessing doctor smirks at everything you do in a practical. Or worse still, you catch sight of a frown, or a raised eyebrow or a stifled laughter. WTH is he trying to sssaaayyyy! (Personal story: I am remembered because of my conspicuous scarf wearing. They going to remember my dumbness *aaaarrrghhh*)
• You are sitting before a test with a list of acronyms or pneumonic, learning the answers to three basic questions:

                    What is the acronym?
                    What is it for?
                    What each letter stands for?
          You look pretty demented at this stage.

• Your ECG interpretations are wrong. Oops sorry. Mistake. Maybe they are just squiggly lines after all? O_o
• You screw an easy station in an OSCE by doing something so utterly stupid. It becomes immensely difficult to forgive yourself for this.
• Other physical signs (especially before exams) include, hair loss, pimples and related scars, raccoon eyes, caffeine stained teeth. Weight gain or loss might also be noticed.
• You start diagnosing yourself after every disease condition you learn about. A sore throat was probably some life-threatening pharyngitis. Ok, you're still living so it wasn't that; but something like it. Hoarseness of voice is often caused by laryngeal nerve compression. What! Carcinoma? Goitre? God forbid. Ag chill, you were just studying out loud. *Gasp*, are you now psychotic – talking to yourself???

You are welcome to add to any of these signs and symptoms.

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Gaza Aid Convoy Update #1

Alhamdulillah, the SARA Gaza Aid Convoy have now reached the Kenyan - Ethiopian border and they hope to cross over into Ethiopia tomorrow :) They are currently 2721km from the Rafah border, InshAllah.


My recent bbm conversation with my cousin:
The Good:

The Bad:

And the Ugly:

Please remember the team in your Du'as.You can receive updates by following them on facebook.
Wasalaam :)
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From the airport

So I'm finally on Holiday :) somewhat strange coz it's only 2weeks this year- damn, I'm going to miss my usual 6weeks.

I'm currently @ the OR Tambo Int airport, 3/4 done with my 5hour wait until my next connecting flight to DURBAN :D chilling @ a busy airport is not the worst thing ever. After doodling around the shops here, I entertained myself for over an hour @ the upper level of International arrivals. I find it rather amusing to watch different people's reactions as they see their loved ones.
* the man with the red jacket that seemed totally lost
*the two men that were undoubtedly father & son by token of their precisely similar gait
* the Indian family that were typically overloaded with luggage
* the man of IndoPak origin that looked like he was walking in the wrong direction. I hope he wasn't looking for departures!
*the sports team that came from somewhere, sorry I don't know players that well so I was unable to recognise any1
* the lady that sat behind and performed Salaah (love this)
* the Muslim brother that applied Itr for another Muslim brother
* And of course trying to assign nationalities to everyone

It was great to have this bird's eye view of soo many different people. Different shapes, different sizes, different colours, different dress styles. Some walking aimlessly, some with stiff tired legs, others almost running... Ay, I'm having fun
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an extract from Mornings in Jenin

"Thank you" I answered, unsure of the proper American response to her gracious enthusiasm. In the Arab world, gratitude is a language unto itself, "May Allah bless the hands that give me this gift"; "Beauty is in your eyes that find me pretty"; "May God extend your life"; "May Allah never deny your prayer"; "May the next meal you cook for us be in celebration of your son's wedding...of your daughter's graduation...your mother's recovery"; and so on, an infinite string of prayerful appreciation. Coming from such a culture, I have always found a mere "thank you" an insufficient expression that makes my voice sound miserly and ungrateful.

Susan Abulhawa, Author of Mornings in Jenin.