Aphasia-Dysphasia

Ali, Ah Chong and Arumugam: "Wah, Psychology, can read mind".


Hmmmm, that is pretty much a standard statement that I get when people hear my major. You know, truth is, if I could read my own mind, I would actually be very ecstatic ;).




At the Freud Museum in London, England: He's inescapable in Psychoanalysis, Psychiatry and even Psychology.

Ok, news flash everyone. We don't read minds. We also don't use crystal balls, read tea leaves, tarot cards, and neither can we predict the future.

And while we're on the subject, yes, it is a Science. Something which many people don't seem to get.

Another common perception is that Freud is the God of Psychology. News flash again. No, he isn't.

While we cannot run away from Freud because many of his writings is applicable (not in every single way), Freud is inherently more relevant to the Psychoanalysis and Psychiatry.

And while we're at it, yes, Psychiatrists are medical doctors (and Psychologists are not, unless they also went to medical school).



Anyway, I'm curious as to how Psychology is taught in Malaysia. I guess I am wondering how different my experience would be had I done it locally. What about if I had chosen a different university in Canada, like a huge one? What about if I had done it in another country besides Canada?

What are the classes like? What are the discussions like?

How much exposure to research is there? How much emphasis is put on Statistics? How much hands-on experience do students (if they choose to) get if they want to be part of a research lab?



In one of my relationship classes, we had to role-play asking your not-very-cooperative partner to use a condom. We also had to then discuss with the professor and the rest of the class what possible answers did we encounter when trying to persuade another to wear a condom.

I turned to the guy I paired up with (who happens to be Malaysian!) and the both of us said the same thing: Would this happen back home?

This was only a relationship class. I think some people would die if it was the Human Sexuality classroom.

One of the professors of one of the sections gave assignments that would probably never have seen daylight in Malaysia (e.g., Visit a strip club (male or female) and observe the behaviour of both the dancers and the customers--a written paper was expected of the visit). Of course, students were given a choice and nobody had to do an assignment they were uncomfortable with.

I'm also a self-professed hater of anything math-related. I despise math. With a lot of passion. The only part of math I ever could stand was Statistics, simply because it had diagrams (think graphs) and I am a visual learner, among others.

But too many a math teacher killed my tolerance of Stats.

When I heard I had to do Introductory and Advanced Stats as part of my Psychology degree, I almost cried.

I took Stats while I was in Inti Penang (I was told I would have to do it in Canada again anyway because a couple of the components of the Stats course was different, but I took it anyway for background knowledge), and Oh My God, I feared and hated it.

I never understood any of the principles, and ended up just memorising to get through.

When I took the similar-but-not-exactly-the-same course again in Canada, I told the professor point-blank how much I feared and despised it. And I remember how she would give me the reassurance that I was doing ok, and God bless her, use as many examples until I got it.

And I remember how her face grinned from side-to-side and how she pumped her fist when I got my A. And I remember getting the biggest hug (yes, from a prof!).

And I realise, you know what (don't tell my profs that, I still like groaning about it), it's not too bad.

I guess it makes a whole lot of difference when you have your own data to play with. A research project in which you get to see how the results pan out, from data you helped collect.

I remember a particular stats component that completely escaped me because I never got the head-or-the-tail. And I told one of my supervisors about it when she asked how my stats was coming along. She actually pulled out the chair, and said: "Sit, I'm going to teach you right now. I'll make sure you get it before you leave this room".

Amazingly enough, I got it. And simply because she used data and examples we were collecting ourselves.

And it really helps your critical skills when you have to decipher the data, explain the data so that someone outside the field can understand it, find loopholes in your own work and explain it (now, that's new! you actually have to tell people where your project is weak), and suggest future directions of the work.

And one of my professors is amazing with providing feedback for your work and academic writing, which I am extremely thankful for.

Would I have overcome my disproportional fear of Stats if I was doing my degree locally? I don't understand how a course which is so similar can be so different in how I face it. Is it the teaching method?

I know many people fear Stats.

So, if you're majoring in Psyc and fear Stats, have you?

I would love to hear opinions or other experiences, whether or not you're majoring in Psychology!

It was Monday evening (July 19), and I was in a large ballet studio pointing my not-so-tiny toes and getting lost in the light but calming music. I had just heard that Aunty Dalilah, or Aunty D as I call her, had passed on the morning of July 19. But I had seen the phone call from Kak Pi hours too late and thus missed out on following her down for the funeral.

Three friends have coffee in Sunway Pyramid: Dear Aunty Dalilah (right) who bought me a cake and a brooch before I left for Canada.

I wasn't shocked or sad to hear the news. I think I felt mostly relieved. I know Aunty D wanted to leave this earth in the holy land, but a part of me is happy she made it back so that Adam and Idris, her darling children, could see her. I was relieved to know her earthly suffering was no more. Aunty D, whose last conversation with me was about her still sleeping on the pink-heart pillow I had given her before I left Malaysia for Canada.


"Daphne, dah penuh my air liur on the pillow, malam-malam meleleh" (Daphne, the pillow is full of my saliva from my drooling every night).



As I stretched and flexed my toes in the studio, I felt a calm wash over me. My hips felt sore from the balancing, but I could hear Aunty D's sing-song, lilting voice going, "Daphne, I know you can do it!".



It has always been a childhood dream of mine to learn ballet (my joke about trying out for the National Ballet wasn't a joke that came out of nowhere), but somehow, my 9 year-old never thought about conveying that wish. I have never been on the tiniest side, and the idea of ballet didn't seem to fit my klutzy and sometimes too-big self. Morover, I had a tumour on my left foot, and even participating in School PE/PJ sometimes was difficult. That tumour was eventually excised when I was 16 because it decided to grow. Surgery came with its own baggage. After two years of electric shock shooting up my spine, I finally opted for steroid therapy that went on for another 2 years.

But throughout, I've always wanted to dance. And if there's something that I learnt from Aunty D., it's that you can do pretty much anything. A physical 'problem' should not stop you.



Something not many know about me is that I'm double-jointed. In the medical world, it is known as hypermobility. And for those wondering, no, I do not have two joints where everyone else has one. Double-jointed people are more prone to dislocations, subluxations (i.e., partial dislocation), muscle sprains, aches etc. It's because our ligaments, which are very loose/lax, allow us to stretch more than usual. As such, our muscles have to work extra hard to compensate for the lax ligaments.



Being double-jointed is fun, but it's also troublesome on a klutzy day. I'm the perpetual kid who trips over own feet, and splats on the floor. People on the street call us flexible. The one who will always get asked, inevitably: "Doesn't that hurt???"

One thing not fun about being double-jointed is being injury-prone. I've subluxed my knees and twisted my ankles repeatedly. I spent half of my holidays in London limping and hobbling. I've injured myself so often I've earned the nickname "Hoppy" from one of my professors, and "Hobbles" from one of the people I volunteer with.



The rheumatologists in Canada (it's a teaching hospital, so I see a team) sent me for physiotherapy to build and strengthen my muscles. And if I wanted to do yoga/pilates/dance for relaxation, it was fine too, they said. But I had to be careful.

I finally found a dance teacher who is willing to teach me ballet one-on-one. And what luck it is that he happens to be a physiotherapist by training.



What luck, two for the price of one...And so I find out I need to work on my hips (left side too loose), my ankles (both sides too loose), my knees, and my upper and lower back. Apparently, that's the whole body...


Lol.



So I guess being flexible has worked against me. But it's allowed me to skip the flexibility training in ballet. Let's see how far one-and-a-half months of ballet will get me.



"Careful, your ankles are going in a different direction than your knees!"..

"That's...not good?"

"No, that's another injury waiting to happen!"



I could hear Aunty Dalilah giggling...I know she would go into a peal of laughter if I had told her about my very-not-young body trying out ballet for the first time. And the possible tremor that might have been felt all over Ipoh (you have been warned) when I go into jumping. Oh God, please don't let this mini-elephant fall.



And God, while you're at it, please keep Aunty Dalilah safe with you. If you need a spirit-booster for some sad souls, let her know, and she'd do the job splendidly. Oh, and God, if it's not much trouble, do you think you could please plant a little Limau Tambun (pomelo) tree up high for her? She loves the fruit, so don't get offended if she tries to hide it from You.

In the meantime, may You guide Uncle Saiful, Adam, Idris and all who love her throughout this difficult time.

Image taken from here.

~Dr. Randy Pausch~
(23 October,1960- 25th July 2008)

I recently bought the book 'The Last Lecture', a book based on the lecture "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams", Dr. Randy Pausch's last lecture (on the 18th of September, 2007) before he passed away from pancreatic cancer. Dr. Pausch was a tenured faculty at the Carnegie Mellon University (CMU).

At CMU, some professors are asked to imagine if it was to be their last lecture, what will they want to pass to the student body and the world. For Dr. Pausch however, it wasn't something he had to pretend-play with, as he had terminal cancer.
He lost his battle to cancer on the 25th of July, 2008.



The lecture itself can be viewed on YouTube:-

I however, still recommend the book, as it chronicles the emotions that went along with the lecture, the preparation, and the different struggles that Dr. Pausch faced. This was something that sometimes was forgotten when you watched the actual lecture as he is brimming with enthusiasm, energy and zest. And it's really something to hear the words that you just read echoed back to you by the man who said it.

It really made me think.

Think about it: What would YOU say if you had one last chance to talk to the world and share all you have to share? What would YOU do if you have one last chance to immortalise yourself in the lives of your loved ones?


I wish the late Dr. Pausch's wife, Jai, and their three kids, Dylan, Logan and Chloe the best of their future ahead.

This marks the first of a series of guest-bloggers I will be inviting to blog about their personal experiences (either as an individual with the condition, a care-giver or a health-care professional) with some rare and not-so-rare conditions. It is just my way of helping spread awareness about various health issues, and the challenges, aspirations and lives of those who live them first-hand.

I hope that by allowing posts such as these, it will help to humanise these conditions/disorders, and help to open a forum of discussion for those living with it, as well as reminding them they are not alone.


Today's blog-post is by Phylis Feiner Johnson, an epilepsy-advocate and a professional copywriter who has epilepsy herself.

For those who are interested in reading how epilepsy affects the world and its epidemiology, here's a link on the World Health Organisation website.

Confessions of 42 years of Epilepsy…

By Phylis Feiner Johnson


When I was diagnosed with epilepsy, my parents told me I’d “never amount to anything.” But they were wrong.
I became an advertising copywriter, first on the corporate side, next as a freelancer for 25 years.

Then, two years ago, I almost died from a continuing cascade of seizures. I had a heart attack, went into a coma, then life support, ICU, etc. When I got out of rehab, I couldn’t even find the keyboard…which left me plenty of time to think.

So I decided to ditch my freelance business and become a full-time epilepsy advocate. I started my website: www.epilepsytalk.com and I was up and running!

***

Every year, without fail, there will be big hue-and-cry over the awarding of the PSD/JPA scholarships. And every year, there will be some sob-story about how people's dreams and hopes are crashed.

The awarding of the scholarships have never been completely fair; there's always been the same 'who you know', 'quota' and the list goes on and on and on.



There are more and more and more people with Straight A's, so much so that it's beginning to defy the conventions of the normal curve. But just because you got straight A's does NOT mean you DESERVE a scholarship. It is not a right.

An academic wrote to The Star and said she (I don't know if it's a she or he; but I will use 'she') had 33.33% of her class with 8-10 A's, and yet they didn't do well when exam time came.

Fyi, exam grades usually follow the normal curve, especially one as big as a national exam. Which means in a randomly-assigned (i.e., non-streamed) class, it defies all conventions of the normal distribution to have 33.33% score straight A's! For the highest extreme on either ends (A, A+ and F), you should only have 0.1-2.5%.

Which means, sorry to break it to you, but our A's mean nothing. An exam that deviates so far from the normal curve has very miniscule validity (i.e., it's not testing what it purports to test, and the results do not reflect what it says it reflects).

So just because you got the A's doesn't mean you deserve a scholarship.

We have all been brought up with the doing-something-to-get-something culture. Do your chores, and daddy gives you some extra-spending money; Get a reward of cash for every A you get; Mummy buys you a gift for every little achievement.

While it is great to learn how to work hard, the real world isn't about being rewarded for everything.

Wow, how this reward and punishment system is blowing up in our face.




What happened to I work hard and study hard because I want to learn as much as I can, both from my studies and from life? Why is it the end is more important than the means? Don't the means have value in themselves? Since when is education a waste?


Every year, thousands of people complain about not getting their PSD-scholarships, and every year, it's the same thing: 'Why is it this person who got the same number of A's was awarded the scholarship but not me?' 'I got this number of A's and I deserve it.'

Sorry, but no, you don't. You meet the requirements to be considered for a scholarship, but that doesn't mean the place is rightfully yours.



Think about it: Just because you qualify for the job doesn't mean you get it.

Not everyone who 'deserves' the scholarship gets it and not everyone who gets it deserves it.

Not fair? Yes, probably, but so is life. BUT, having said that, there are people who receive the PSD-scholarship who deserve it.




Learn to be resourceful. Look at other means. Just because PSD won't give it to you doesn't mean that everyone else won't.

I kid you not when I tell you my jaw dropped the first time I had class with a group of PSD recipients. I was happy initially to be in classes with some people I know and who have the same background (country-wise and language anyway) as me. But after the first week, I was beginning to understand why other non-PSD recipients were sometimes shying away from being with them.


On the first day of the class, during our group work, we introduced ourselves. In my group there were 6 of us, 3 Malaysians in total.

We went around with the introductions and 4 of us said our names and where we were from. The other 3 students, the non-Malaysians, realised they had some similar language background. So they had something in common too. And when the first PSD recipient introduced herself, she said her name, which country she was from, and then said:-

"I am a government scholar!"


My jaw dropped, and I saw some raised-eyebrows all around. The other PSD recipient also did the same with her introductions.

I have since heard the same introductions all around. Malaysian students who actually when introducing themselves, say that.


A new batch of Malaysian students came in, and when I met up with the Malaysian group, they all asked me the same thing: "You scholar ke bukan? (Are you a scholar or not?)"


Wow. What is this about 1Malaysia again? How does this have anything to do with anything? It's as if their entire identity is tied to being a SCHOLAR. Very big words. Very, very big words.


No offence, but you've just set yourself into a corner, because it will smack you in the face. Everybody stumbles, and everybody falls. And yes, in case you're wondering, I am a big faller and a big tumbler, and I have no qualms admitting that. But I pick myself up and go again.


One PSD recipient was bugging me in class to help her with her work. I helped her; after the 3rd assignment however, I was beginning to get fed-up. It's ok to discuss answers, and to have group studies. But when you call me up to ask for the answers...

Hmmm...



She sits next to me in class, and when the professor is teaching, she doesn't bother to take most of the notes, and even when the professor says specifically "I expect you to know this" (duh, it's a hint), she doesn't bother. And then every assignment and test and exam she calls me.

I will help you if you really don't know, trust me, I will. I have tutored entire (or almost) courses for free because people, Malaysians and non-Malaysians alike, were struggling.


But when it is your attitude...

Are these the kind of people who are called scholars?


I had one professor who gave me this look in class once. She eventually asked where I was from because she said the accent/speech patterns sounded familiar. I told her I was from Malaysia.

Silence...


And then she said: "Ahhhh...You're...not like the rest of the Malaysians I've had"



Please, someone, tell me they didn't give the professor the "I'm a scholar" spew.

Malaysia gets enough of a bad image from the press. You won't believe how many times Macleans magazine, for example, picks up on some dumb thing some MP said, or when Malaysia makes a big fuss about what Shakira or Avril Lavigne is wearing.

I've had people ask me: "What's all this fuss with Avril Lavigne? And isn't Malaysia the same one who made a fuss about_____?"

My point? If you get the PSD-scholarship, be grateful and appreciate it.

And if you don't get it, don't moan and groan. Appeal your case, be proactive etc. Look at other resources of scholarships. There are external and overseas-based scholarships, for example.

And if you did get it, congratulations, but don't let it get to your head. You have to continue working hard, or you will go nowhere. I'm on a scholarship myself (nope, not JPA) and believe you me, I'm working my bum off. A full-course load (and my scholarship requires me to maintain a certain grade), I work, and I volunteer in four organisations and two research labs. I barely even have Sundays off.

Just please, don't go down the road of 'my dreams and hopes are gone'.

I used to feel sorry for people who got the minimum requirements for a PSD-scholarship but didn't get it. And then I...grew up...And realised...nobody owes you anything. And you'll only make it if you're tough as well.

You're the only one who can sustain your dream, your hopes and your passion. Giving up completely on a dream just because you hit an obstacle doens't speak much about your dream.

You have to be passionate to chase your dream. Learn to own your dreams! Learn to fly...

PS: I could be wrong. Maybe we have the technology.

Harry Potter, the Exhibition: Lord Voldemort's Wand...

Harry Potter Exhibition: I went, I saw, I was kinda dissapointed...

Be home in a week or so!

Hehe...

Well, I haven't completely finished, but I'll be home for the summer! Yippie!


I can't believe it's been almost two years since I left. The amount of nasi kandars and teh tariks I have missed, not to mention the ipoh hor fun and nasi lemaks and ikan bakars and...*Yumyum*

But first, before coming home, there's the Harry Potter Exhibition in town. I think I'll go try on the sorting hat!

See you all soon!

Kak Hayati and Siti Aisya...




Hi everyone,

Just a note to say that Siti Aisya has passed away, at 5pm (Malaysian time), April 19th, 2010.


I have no further news as I can't call the family from where I am, but I thought the readers who helped raised funds (about RM 14 450 in cash, with others donating/sponsoring in kind: diapers, milk, glucose, and food, which was enough to cover her needs for a year) for her would like to know. You have all made a difference in the little girl's life.




May her soul rest in peace, and may the family find some solace in their tremendous loss.

Purple Day: March 26

Hanging by the fingertips and toetips, but having the time of life!



If there is one picture that can sum of what university is all about at the moment, it has to be this one!



I went rock-climbing yesterday...Yeap, me...Rock-climbing...




We did two types. One with someone hoisting you up, and one without. In the above picture, I wore a harness around my waist, but that darn harness was not actually hooked to anything. But at the bottom were of course lots of mattresses (I've not completely lost my marbles, ok, especially since I'm super injury-prone).



The other one, someone helped hoist you up, which meant you could climb much farther up.





But it pretty much is what I'm feeling right now in university. I'm hanging with all I'm worth, I'm grabbing onto all the support I can get, but the main aim was to climb as darn high as you possibly can. But you also know that if you slipped, it was ok, because there was a little something to fall back on. But damn, you still want to climb higher!

And the best feeling of all, is when you reach the top! But as with all highs, there comes a time when it's time to come back down. Darn, that dual-process theory of emotion was right after all...;)





The one where someone hoists you up...

There's an amazing amount of support available, that really, the only thing that's gonna do you in in university, is yourself. Because the system was designed to help people...

Using the rock-climbing as an analogy: If you can't free-climb because your fingers are not strong enough to pull yourself up because you have a medical condition, we'll hoist you up with a harness so we help you support you weight (that's not the reason though, of course). That's like someone with say, ADHD who needs a quiet and/or distraction free environment to write exams.

Phew! We're in February already, and soon, it would be a month since I got back to school...



Somebody wrote 'Let It Snow' in one of the residences, and somebody else added on the 'L': 'It Did'...



It's been a very hectic month, but I'm so glad because I finally finalised my ticket to come home at the end of May, which is soooo looked forward to! First stop after home~~the mamak stall! Woohoo!!!

Lol. I was practically skipping to class once I knew what date I was going home...


It's been an eventful January, so far!

Hey, a purple butterfly on the cake! Perfect or what?

I went to see my first Canadian Ice Hockey match (you're here, have to try it at least once!)...


And then just two nights ago, went to see Hairspray the Musical, courtesy of one of the volunteer organisations I'm attached to. The young girl whom I work with in the program (it's a respite program and I'm paired with a child) surprised me with a belated little birthday cake the same night, which was such a sweet gesture!





Tickle Me Elmo...



And then in between, I've been playing with Elmo, whom I adore...;) *Sheepish grin*

People whom are close to me know my love-affair with Elmo, and while on the way to Bowmanville, my puppet-troupe of two other guys actually sang me Happy Birthday in Elmo's voice (one of them can do an almost perfect imitation of the furry red monster!)...