Anchor to hold

You leave me room for my imperfections 

I’m a mess and you jump right in

If I drift in the wrong direction

You turn the tide

And you calm the wind

Anytime everytime I get lost

You will find me

You will find me

You will find me


Playlist 25; monday in bed!

Alan Walker – Alone

KHS ft. Citizen Føur – Black Beatle

Little Mix ft. Charlie Puth – Oops!

Louis Tomlinson ft. Steve Aoki – Hold On

Nause – Dynamic

Neiked – Sexual

Niall Horan – This Town (Tiesto Remix)

Noah Cyrus ft. Labrinth – Make Me (Cry)

X Ambassadors – Unsteady

Years & Years – Eyes Shut


Push my luck & trust the dust.

To pass the Obgyn round we’re required to take OSCE exam, the thing that I’ve been stressing about since the first day the round started. When other people were still on cloud 9 (being free from anesthesiology, shitty night shift and stuff), I had illogical worries about an exam which was literally months away. One on one exam definitely is not my forte. I couldn’t just quit. Regardless.

We had 12 posts; 7 written essays, 3 one on one phantom aka my nightmare, and 2 recess posts. We were given only as much as 12 minutes in each post. I mean, 12 minutes in the writing post would be more than enough. You can beautify your answer, make it longer & looks reliable. You even have spare time to daydream about which TV series to binge watch after it all ends. You can sing the whole lyrics of your favorite song and write it on your palm just because. You can doodle the name of your one way crush on the back of the answering sheet. But the same luxury can’t be applied to the Phantom posts. Phantom is series of steps (30-50) that we have to memorize in order to do some procedures. Word by word. You can’t just skip one and do things that come to mind first. You have to do it orderly. Word by word. Almost like you’re singing it. I think that’s why the book is called Melody of Phantom. We learned around 7 phantoms during our round in Obgyn : Normal/Vaginal delivery (Asuhan Persalinan Normal), Breech delivery (3 sub-phantoms inside, like total breech, manual aid, & spontaneous breech), Vacuum Extractor, Internal Uterine Device (AKDR), IVA, and Pap-smear. And boy it’s totally harder to memorize than all of 1D & 5SOS album combined. Truest truth. Among 7 deadly phantoms there will only be 3 that are actually showing up in exam. So you have no choice but to cram all 7 of them. To top it all, we have to actually do the phantom, on the mannequin, that we don’t have at home and only get see it once or twice during 3 months of learning. Of course an examiner will sit directly in front of you, paper and pen on hand, ready to spot tiniest mistake. You don’t recite. You work the phantom. So if you say, “I introduce myself, explain about the patient’s condition & plans, and ask for consent”, it has to be followed by, “Good morning Ma’am, my name is dr. Sari, today I will be assisting you on your labor and delivery, the complications are….” The same thing goes to when you belt out medical equipments out of the list. You have to actually name the thing and touch it. Some examiners even need you to demonstrate how it works. 3 phantoms. As if 1 isn’t dreadful enough. For some people this kind of exam probably only makes them a bit nervous, a split of uncomfortable moment that will pass in seconds. Minutes. Their throat won’t constrict, their heart won’t beat faster than 120 bpm, they won’t feel like their limbs can’t function, they won’t feel like they’re about to be the biggest failure in medschool history and the world is coming to an end. 

When they called my name and told me to wait in line, the whole moment of this round flashed before my eyes. My fear, my first partus, holding out newborns, my first triplets, how little I achieved in the past 3 months compared to my friends, group disagreement, my other fears… I just kinda zoned out for a little while. And when I finally entered the room I felt like my other logical, calmer side has taken over. Idk if it makes any sense. The anxiety was clearly there, but instead of barreling out, it’s…contained? In a way that I didn’t trip over the floor or have to chant “you’re okay, it’s okay” just to hold myself together? Anyway my fist phantom was APN and the examiner was surprise surprise a professor. A cross and down to detail one. I took a deep breath and watched, as my limbs moved in sync and my lips started singing out the panthom. I was tucked inside layers of consciousness. I felt like I didn’t give my body the command. They just…moved. And before I knew it the phantom was over. I’m suck at explanation but that’s honestly how I felt during the exam. Maybe it’s survival instinct, maybe the number of exams I took these past 5 years has finally dulled my senses for good. Maybe I was simply tired. I’m not complaining either way. 

The next day, when I happily did my last Obgyn night shift with a friend, we were going through the OSCE moments and laughing at silly mistakes we made. She suddenly pointed out that I sounded different in my APN post. My voice was loud, fast, sure, and not at all shaky like the way I pictured it to be. She said I took her by surprise. I talked fast and completely ignored the professor. I went through, insisted on doing it my way, and that left him stunned & silent. She said, “It’s as if in the middle of reciting phantom, you tell your innerself that it’s okay, you just need to push through and you definitely can do it. It’s in your tone, and the way you talk.” She thought I did good. At that moment I didn’t know whether she’s being honest or kind. I just felt some sort of relief and proud? I feel so lucky to have friends that are aware of my condition and manage to stay. Some of ’em push me beyond my limit, some willfully (or not 😂) listen to me bitching around about my insecurities, some just kind enough to counterattack my negative thoughts & talks with kind words.

It’s nothing. To some people it’s nothing. One exam. Life goes on. But for people with anxiety, trust issue, low self-esteem, and other ugly stuff locked inside their jumbled mind, it’s an achievement. One that will be the place for them to look for every ounce of bravery to face another morning, another day, another challenge, another exam, another patient. 

Life is hard. 


The pain will be to great, sometimes. The dark will be too deep, and the threads that keep you strong will wear & fray. You will spend the longest days you’ve ever known patching yourself back together. Every stitch will hurt like hell, you will be made of misfit fragments whose origin you don’t even know. There are days you will feel ugly and wounded beyond repair. The work of mad scientist that demands to see life when there is none. You will be tattered and the memory of it all will break the beauty you’ve tried to protect. Someday you will have nothing.

But then,

But then you will wake up in…somewhere else. You just will, like you just passed through the wardrobe as you sleept. You’re in the same place you’ve always been, but the lights hit it all a little strange. You will pull your patchwork self-up from under your covers & stand in the morning sun. You will brush your raggedy hair, feel the creaks of your bones & catch sight if yourself somehow…

And you are extraordinary 

You are color of tender & care. You are stich after faithful stich of hope and self-compassion. You are a beautiful medley of radiant fabric, knit to triumph with every mend. It is a holy thing to look at your self and to see something marvelous,

But you will. You will see that someday. And you will live again.