Thursday, September 30, 2010
Stilts.
*Disclaimer: This post may be sightly offensive to some.
It was only recently that I noticed, that he always wears a cap. A worn-out, shoddy-looking cap, so that as people above walk by him, his eyes may avert their haughty gaze. It was only lately that I noticed, that sometimes when I spoke to him while I stood up, he would never look up at me, only to the dirty ground, as if he was not used to eye contact.
So today, I decided, to always be at eye level with Grandpa Zhou.
As some of you know, Grandpa Zhou is the 80-year old busker who sits at the dirty steps of the train station near my house and plays the harmonica for a bit of money. It's been three years since we've known each other, and each of our lives have been drastically transformed through each other.
Today, as I squatted by him in my PrettyFit flats, PepperPlus office skirt and white collared, ESPIRIT office blouse, people, as usual, stopped and stared.
Once upon a time, when I used to buy dinner and sit by him in my running shirt and shorts and slippers, I never felt awkward sitting by him. But as I progressed in my medical training and started to come home in collared shirts, high-waisted skirts, and sometimes, heels, with my handbag strategically hung over my arm for style, and my stethoscope tucked neatly into it, one day I realised, to my horror, that I felt awkward sitting by this old man who wears the same shirt for 4 days and smells odd because of it.
It's much easier talking to him while standing up. Surely fewer people would stop and stare. But was this what we were called to? Years ago, when I was younger, when I sat at the interview room with grand ideas of saving lives and nursing the sick, did I not say Medicine was my dream because I wanted to heal the sick, be close to the people? Did we not promise we would keep our feet and heads on the ground, where the poor and needy needed us?
Did we not promise that lives, not money, mattered; Ideals, not comfort, drove us.
I now see the challenge, and feel it too. Up and up we go, building stilts for ouselves, leaving the rest of the world down below. We grow to think, it's too dirty down there below. Perhaps, it takes a maverick to chop his stilts for something better on the ground.
A year ago, our education system changed. With the new residency programme that seems to favour those who apply for specialties early to climb up the corporate ladder fast and furiously, the entire medical faculty has been thrown into a mad flux of competition and anxiety.
APPLY NOW.
DO ALL IT TAKES.
IF YOU DON'T, YOU'LL BE LEFT BEHIND
are only some of the insidious messages broadcasted into our subsciousness. Now, all of a sudden, everybody wants to be a surgeon or an opthalmologist. ASAP. Everyone wants a bite of the cake which promises fast rewards and a fast-tracked career to success, prestige and honour. We have taken axes to make stilts for ourselves, no matter if this process destroys the forest. My stilts matter most.
I have nothing against this new system, mind you. Only something against the spirit of self-striving, insecurity and backbiting in one's effort to get up there, somewhere at the expense of someone else. Or so I've heard.
I'm not sure how realistic it is to apply for a specialty so early in life. Many senior doctors have cautioned, are still cautioning us against it, for it could produce a breed of doctors too specialised and narrow at too young an age, when experience has yet to fulfill its responsibility to our hungry minds. After all, junior doctors often specialised only after working and gaining experience in many fields after a few years.
I've nothing against this new system. I suppose, if God has called one to apply for a specialty, by all means, one should go for it. Nonetheless, axes have been drawn out of insecurity, stilts have been built out of fear of being left behind, and the ground has become a faraway place for some, a place we once thought we would be close to, close to the people we once said we would genuinely serve, not for money, not for pride, not for prestige, but out of love, genuity and compassion.
So everyone has been asking me what I've applied for. Is it Obstetrics and Gynaecology which was my first love? Is it General Surgery because of my fascination with the operating theatre? is it Ophthalmology because of what God spoke to me? Is it Paediatrics because of my love for children? Or is it Internal Medicine so I can pursue Infectious disease or Geriatrics in the future? Or maybe, Public Health?
It took me a long while to decide,
that I don't want stilts.
I don't want an axe to make my own, nor an axe to chop off the stilts of someone else.
I emphasize, there's nothing wrong with applying for a specialty early,
as long as one's feet are on the ground. As long as one knows it is what God has called one to do, and not because one is afraid, or insecure, or anxious.
I do not claim the higher moral ground for not applying for a specialty so soon. Each has its own benefits, depending on what God has called one to do.
Nonetheless, squatting next to Grandpa Zhou today reminded me, that once upon a time, when we learnt about bedside manners, we had learnt about the importance of sitting at the patient's eye level.
It made me wonder: how many of us do that now? As we move from third-year to fifth-year of medical school, our eye levels shift upwards too. We amass more knowledge, we begin to feel more important, and talk down to our patients who lie down, who crane their necks like flamingoes just to hear us spout long phrases and words like colonoscopy and aspiration pneumonia.
Yes, you need a colonscopy, sir. Please sign on the dotted line.
A man in a black shirt stood on the train platform above Grandpa Zhou and I. I saw him from the corner of my eye. Way above us, he peered down, and it reminded me of the many times I had stood and "talked down" to my patients, the many times I had stood to chat with Grandpa Zhou instead of sitting at his level while he huddled by the train steps. The man above was a spectator, uninvolved.
It made me wonder, would I become the kind of high-powered, money-churning doctor who sits high above, peering down at the lives of my patients? My patients, who live in one-room flats and sleep at the void decks and who come into my clinic complaining of gastritis because they ran out of food to eat? Yes, this happens in sunny Singapore.
Would I become a hands-off spectator peering down at my patients, uninvolved in their lives, prescribing medicines too expensive for them to buy, speaking in English with an accent I acquired from a post-graduate degree overseas?
I will never forget, that before we were friends, I hated Grandpa Zhou because I thought he was another lazy old man trying to earn easy money. It was only when I sat down by him one day, at his level, that I saw that he had deformities in his feet and right arm. Work is difficult with a handicap.
So in my PrettyFit shoes, PepperPlus office skirt and ESPIRIT white collared shirt, I forced myself to squat, and told Grandpa Zhou while looking into his eyes, "I have a special task for you. You've got to think about what your favorite food is and let me know the next time we meet, okay? We'll go to a nice place to eat when I have my break in 2 weeks time-a friend of mine is very eager to meet you."
The Village of Stiltsville
where people like we,
some tiny, some tall,
with jobs and kids
and clocks on the wall
keep an eye on the time.
For each evening at six,
they meet in the square
for the purpose of sticks,
tall stilts upon which
Stiltsvillians can strut
and be lifted above
those down in a rut:
It was only recently that I noticed, that he always wears a cap. A worn-out, shoddy-looking cap, so that as people above walk by him, his eyes may avert their haughty gaze. It was only lately that I noticed, that sometimes when I spoke to him while I stood up, he would never look up at me, only to the dirty ground, as if he was not used to eye contact.
So today, I decided, to always be at eye level with Grandpa Zhou.
As some of you know, Grandpa Zhou is the 80-year old busker who sits at the dirty steps of the train station near my house and plays the harmonica for a bit of money. It's been three years since we've known each other, and each of our lives have been drastically transformed through each other.
Today, as I squatted by him in my PrettyFit flats, PepperPlus office skirt and white collared, ESPIRIT office blouse, people, as usual, stopped and stared.
Once upon a time, when I used to buy dinner and sit by him in my running shirt and shorts and slippers, I never felt awkward sitting by him. But as I progressed in my medical training and started to come home in collared shirts, high-waisted skirts, and sometimes, heels, with my handbag strategically hung over my arm for style, and my stethoscope tucked neatly into it, one day I realised, to my horror, that I felt awkward sitting by this old man who wears the same shirt for 4 days and smells odd because of it.
It's much easier talking to him while standing up. Surely fewer people would stop and stare. But was this what we were called to? Years ago, when I was younger, when I sat at the interview room with grand ideas of saving lives and nursing the sick, did I not say Medicine was my dream because I wanted to heal the sick, be close to the people? Did we not promise we would keep our feet and heads on the ground, where the poor and needy needed us?
Did we not promise that lives, not money, mattered; Ideals, not comfort, drove us.
I now see the challenge, and feel it too. Up and up we go, building stilts for ouselves, leaving the rest of the world down below. We grow to think, it's too dirty down there below. Perhaps, it takes a maverick to chop his stilts for something better on the ground.
A year ago, our education system changed. With the new residency programme that seems to favour those who apply for specialties early to climb up the corporate ladder fast and furiously, the entire medical faculty has been thrown into a mad flux of competition and anxiety.
APPLY NOW.
DO ALL IT TAKES.
IF YOU DON'T, YOU'LL BE LEFT BEHIND
are only some of the insidious messages broadcasted into our subsciousness. Now, all of a sudden, everybody wants to be a surgeon or an opthalmologist. ASAP. Everyone wants a bite of the cake which promises fast rewards and a fast-tracked career to success, prestige and honour. We have taken axes to make stilts for ourselves, no matter if this process destroys the forest. My stilts matter most.
I have nothing against this new system, mind you. Only something against the spirit of self-striving, insecurity and backbiting in one's effort to get up there, somewhere at the expense of someone else. Or so I've heard.
I'm not sure how realistic it is to apply for a specialty so early in life. Many senior doctors have cautioned, are still cautioning us against it, for it could produce a breed of doctors too specialised and narrow at too young an age, when experience has yet to fulfill its responsibility to our hungry minds. After all, junior doctors often specialised only after working and gaining experience in many fields after a few years.
I've nothing against this new system. I suppose, if God has called one to apply for a specialty, by all means, one should go for it. Nonetheless, axes have been drawn out of insecurity, stilts have been built out of fear of being left behind, and the ground has become a faraway place for some, a place we once thought we would be close to, close to the people we once said we would genuinely serve, not for money, not for pride, not for prestige, but out of love, genuity and compassion.
So everyone has been asking me what I've applied for. Is it Obstetrics and Gynaecology which was my first love? Is it General Surgery because of my fascination with the operating theatre? is it Ophthalmology because of what God spoke to me? Is it Paediatrics because of my love for children? Or is it Internal Medicine so I can pursue Infectious disease or Geriatrics in the future? Or maybe, Public Health?
It took me a long while to decide,
that I don't want stilts.
I don't want an axe to make my own, nor an axe to chop off the stilts of someone else.
I emphasize, there's nothing wrong with applying for a specialty early,
as long as one's feet are on the ground. As long as one knows it is what God has called one to do, and not because one is afraid, or insecure, or anxious.
I do not claim the higher moral ground for not applying for a specialty so soon. Each has its own benefits, depending on what God has called one to do.
Nonetheless, squatting next to Grandpa Zhou today reminded me, that once upon a time, when we learnt about bedside manners, we had learnt about the importance of sitting at the patient's eye level.
It made me wonder: how many of us do that now? As we move from third-year to fifth-year of medical school, our eye levels shift upwards too. We amass more knowledge, we begin to feel more important, and talk down to our patients who lie down, who crane their necks like flamingoes just to hear us spout long phrases and words like colonoscopy and aspiration pneumonia.
Yes, you need a colonscopy, sir. Please sign on the dotted line.
A man in a black shirt stood on the train platform above Grandpa Zhou and I. I saw him from the corner of my eye. Way above us, he peered down, and it reminded me of the many times I had stood and "talked down" to my patients, the many times I had stood to chat with Grandpa Zhou instead of sitting at his level while he huddled by the train steps. The man above was a spectator, uninvolved.
It made me wonder, would I become the kind of high-powered, money-churning doctor who sits high above, peering down at the lives of my patients? My patients, who live in one-room flats and sleep at the void decks and who come into my clinic complaining of gastritis because they ran out of food to eat? Yes, this happens in sunny Singapore.
Would I become a hands-off spectator peering down at my patients, uninvolved in their lives, prescribing medicines too expensive for them to buy, speaking in English with an accent I acquired from a post-graduate degree overseas?
I will never forget, that before we were friends, I hated Grandpa Zhou because I thought he was another lazy old man trying to earn easy money. It was only when I sat down by him one day, at his level, that I saw that he had deformities in his feet and right arm. Work is difficult with a handicap.
So in my PrettyFit shoes, PepperPlus office skirt and ESPIRIT white collared shirt, I forced myself to squat, and told Grandpa Zhou while looking into his eyes, "I have a special task for you. You've got to think about what your favorite food is and let me know the next time we meet, okay? We'll go to a nice place to eat when I have my break in 2 weeks time-a friend of mine is very eager to meet you."
So I write this down, in the hope that I may always remember, even years after I graduate, never to chop a tree down for my own stilts.
Meeting Grandpa Zhou, has been one of the greatest blessings in my life.
The Village of Stiltsville
Perhaps you don’t know,
then, maybe you do,
about Stiltsville, the village,
(so strange but so true)
then, maybe you do,
about Stiltsville, the village,
(so strange but so true)
where people like we,
some tiny, some tall,
with jobs and kids
and clocks on the wall
keep an eye on the time.
For each evening at six,
they meet in the square
for the purpose of sticks,
tall stilts upon which
Stiltsvillians can strut
and be lifted above
those down in a rut:
the less and the least,
the Tribe of Too Smalls,
the not cools and have-nots
who want to be tall
the Tribe of Too Smalls,
the not cools and have-nots
who want to be tall
but can’t, because
in the giving of sticks
their name was not called.
They didn’t get picked.
in the giving of sticks
their name was not called.
They didn’t get picked.
Yet still they come
when the villagers gather;
they press to the front
to see if they matter
when the villagers gather;
they press to the front
to see if they matter
to the clique of the cool,
the court of the high clout,
that decides who is special
and declares with a shout,
the court of the high clout,
that decides who is special
and declares with a shout,
“You’re classy!” “You’re pretty!”
“You’re clever!” or “Funny!”
And bequeath a prize,
not of medals or money,
“You’re clever!” or “Funny!”
And bequeath a prize,
not of medals or money,
not a freshly baked pie
or a house someone built,
but the oddest of gifts—-
a gift of some stilts.
or a house someone built,
but the oddest of gifts—-
a gift of some stilts.
Moving up in their mission,
going higher they aim.
“Elevate your position”
is the name of the game.
going higher they aim.
“Elevate your position”
is the name of the game.
The higher-ups of Stiltsville
(you know if you’ve been there)
make the biggest to-do
of the sweetness of thin air.
(you know if you’ve been there)
make the biggest to-do
of the sweetness of thin air.
They relish the chance
on their higher apparatus
to strut on their stilts,
the ultimate status.
on their higher apparatus
to strut on their stilts,
the ultimate status.
For isn’t life best
when viewed from the top?
Unless you stumble
and suddenly are not
when viewed from the top?
Unless you stumble
and suddenly are not
so sure of your footing.
You tilt and then sway.
“Look out bel-o-o-o-w!”
and you fall straightaway
“Look out bel-o-o-o-w!”
and you fall straightaway
into the Too Smalls,
hoi polloi of the earth.
You land on your pride—-
oh boy, how it hurts
hoi polloi of the earth.
You land on your pride—-
oh boy, how it hurts
when the chic police,
in the jilt of all jilts
don’t offer to help
but instead take your stilts.
in the jilt of all jilts
don’t offer to help
but instead take your stilts.
“who made you king?”
you start to complain
but then notice the hour
and forget your refrain
you start to complain
but then notice the hour
and forget your refrain
It’s almost six!
No time for chatter.
It’s back to the crowd
to see if you matter.
No time for chatter.
It’s back to the crowd
to see if you matter.
Stiltvillians still cluster
and crowds still clamour
but more stay away
They seem less enamoured
since the Carpenter came
and refuesed to be stilted.
He chose low over high,
left the system tip-tilted.
"You matter already,"
he explained to the town,
"Trust me on this one,
Keep your feet on the ground."
-Fearless, by Max Lucado
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Keiko Kitagawa good personality.
Keiko Kitagawa good personality. She personality and good ranking woman in Japan and Japanese women who want to be like you, yes she is great.
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Monday, September 27, 2010
Tiny seeds.
Who would imagine that such a tiny seed would grow into a towering, formidable, life-giving oak tree?
It's like how we would never imagine that our tiniest acts would have such a large impact on somebody else.
Sometimes, do you feel like what you do doesn't matter? Does it feel like a smile, or a kind act you give out evaporates almost instantly, leaving nothing but a memory in the atmosphere? Does the answer of only God knowing and seeing what you're doing dis-satisfy you? I know I felt that way before, but less and less.
A few months ago, Grandpa Zhou stopped me in my tracks.
"Wai Jia!" he said in mandarin. "Do you know a Marcus?"
In mandarin, he had pronounced it as MAH KER.
"Mah-ker? There are many Mah-kers around, Grandpa Zhou. Which one are you talking about?" To be honest, I wasn't taking him very seriously.
"He says he knows you!"
"Well, okay. Tell me more?"
"Well, this boy. This boy who's a little older than you came to sit by me just the other day! He sat down and played the guitar with me, bought me food... and so I shared with him about my god-daughter, you, and about all the things you did for me which touched and changed my life... And I said you were very kind... and surprisingly, he asked for your name! And when I told him, both of us got a shock of our lives because HE KNOWS YOU!!! He's from your church!"
Mah-ker. Mah-ker. Ah yes, I know a Marcus! I remember now!
It was beautiful, to know that someone from Home would see Grandpa Zhou through a different set of eyes from the world-not my eyes, but the eyes of God.
A week later when I spoke to Marcus over the phone, we both chuckled. Grandpa Zhou plays the harmonica and busks at a train station in the north on some days and on other days, in the east. Marcus had met him in the north while I had met Grandpa Zhou in the east.
"What made you stop for him?" I asked Marcus.
"You know 2 years ago when you wrote an article in our church magazine on Loving the Poor and Stopping for One? (pg 7), it impacted me really greatly. So I told myself I would do the same. I didn't think the old man whom I stopped for was the same old man you had written about!"
What a small world.
Marcus has been seeing Grandpa Zhou regularly, buying him food, bought and watched a movie with him at a cinema and even accompanied him to a mid-autumn festival event last week.
Last week, I got another email from a stranger through Facebook:
Hi Wai Jia!
You must be wondering who I am. Ha, I'll tell you something amazing! You know the uncle who sits outside the Kembangan mrt (train station)? I know him too! Only this week did I find out that you are his "gan sun nu" (god-daughter). Haha, anyways, I forgot to intro myself, I am ZX from your church too. Nice to meet you! The uncle says you're very nice! It's amazing how God brought us 3 to know one another. Haha C:
God bless,
ZX
Today, Grandpa Zhou told me that when this teenage girl and her mother stopped to talk with him, and when he shared with them about this god-daughter he had, that I was from a church in the east called Cornerstone, they exclaimed that they were from the same one!
Last Friday, I got a phonecall from another friend.
"Wai Jia, I need to talk to you."
"What's up?"
R is a final-year law student, a budding artiste, a friend who has encouraged and inspired me greatly in many ways. He is always full of ideas and just set up his own theatre company to put up Christian theatre works.
"I read your story about Uncle Tay and his 5 shirts. And I read your story about Grandpa Zhou. I'd been organising a series of lectures lately for our law faculty- the latest one being on the topic of Social Injustice. The speaker challenged us to find one aspect of society to pray for and to take action in during the next many months... and to set small goals... ... So, well... I want you to know I'm starting a movement, to raise awareness about helping the elderly in our society who fall through the cracks. I've been speaking to various social workers and agencies to compile a list of helpful services and hope to bring this to people, help people help others. And I need your help, because you're what inspired me."
We talked.
"So what made you stop for Grandpa Zhou the first time you met him? That's what I wanna know, that's what I feel we can impart to our youth today."
"To be honest, R," I said- I knew I was about to spoil his poetic moment, "if you read my writing, I hated Grandpa Zhou at the start. He was mean to me. And I was darn impatient. I was too proud to stop for him. I didn't want to. It was God who made me stop, changed my heart. He humbled me. That was how."
Just as I left Grandpa Zhou today and gave him another fifty-dollar note from a pool of money given to me by my junior's boyfriend (he, whom I've only met once, had given me all of his Chinese New Year money given to him by his relatives for any purpose I wanted) for his medical fees, I caught sight of Rachel, my 7-year old girl from my Sunday School class.
I had shared with my Sunday School children the story of Grandpa Zhou before. I had taught them the value of loving the needy. I remember she was most attentive during those lessons, and she even asked me several things even though she was normally quiet in class.
Now, she saw me bending low to talk to Grandpa Zhou. She saw for herself what she had heard in class.
All these tiny incidents served not to remind of my own goodness, but to remind me of how God could use someone as self-absorbed and proud as me, to reach out to someone else, and how just such a tiny act of obedience can have ripple effects on numerous people, things and circumstance around us.
You just never know.
So the next time you do good and feel weary about doing so, remember that God is not the only one touched. Your smile, your gesture, your one small act of love does not evaporate into thin air.
Like a tiny seed which is the beginning of a giant tree that can bear fruit and provide shade and beauty for many others, your tiny act of love, too, can go such a long way.
I never knew.
It's like how we would never imagine that our tiniest acts would have such a large impact on somebody else.
Sometimes, do you feel like what you do doesn't matter? Does it feel like a smile, or a kind act you give out evaporates almost instantly, leaving nothing but a memory in the atmosphere? Does the answer of only God knowing and seeing what you're doing dis-satisfy you? I know I felt that way before, but less and less.
A few months ago, Grandpa Zhou stopped me in my tracks.
"Wai Jia!" he said in mandarin. "Do you know a Marcus?"
In mandarin, he had pronounced it as MAH KER.
"Mah-ker? There are many Mah-kers around, Grandpa Zhou. Which one are you talking about?" To be honest, I wasn't taking him very seriously.
"He says he knows you!"
"Well, okay. Tell me more?"
"Well, this boy. This boy who's a little older than you came to sit by me just the other day! He sat down and played the guitar with me, bought me food... and so I shared with him about my god-daughter, you, and about all the things you did for me which touched and changed my life... And I said you were very kind... and surprisingly, he asked for your name! And when I told him, both of us got a shock of our lives because HE KNOWS YOU!!! He's from your church!"
Mah-ker. Mah-ker. Ah yes, I know a Marcus! I remember now!
It was beautiful, to know that someone from Home would see Grandpa Zhou through a different set of eyes from the world-not my eyes, but the eyes of God.
A week later when I spoke to Marcus over the phone, we both chuckled. Grandpa Zhou plays the harmonica and busks at a train station in the north on some days and on other days, in the east. Marcus had met him in the north while I had met Grandpa Zhou in the east.
"What made you stop for him?" I asked Marcus.
"You know 2 years ago when you wrote an article in our church magazine on Loving the Poor and Stopping for One? (pg 7), it impacted me really greatly. So I told myself I would do the same. I didn't think the old man whom I stopped for was the same old man you had written about!"
What a small world.
Marcus has been seeing Grandpa Zhou regularly, buying him food, bought and watched a movie with him at a cinema and even accompanied him to a mid-autumn festival event last week.
Last week, I got another email from a stranger through Facebook:
Hi Wai Jia!
You must be wondering who I am. Ha, I'll tell you something amazing! You know the uncle who sits outside the Kembangan mrt (train station)? I know him too! Only this week did I find out that you are his "gan sun nu" (god-daughter). Haha, anyways, I forgot to intro myself, I am ZX from your church too. Nice to meet you! The uncle says you're very nice! It's amazing how God brought us 3 to know one another. Haha C:
God bless,
ZX
Today, Grandpa Zhou told me that when this teenage girl and her mother stopped to talk with him, and when he shared with them about this god-daughter he had, that I was from a church in the east called Cornerstone, they exclaimed that they were from the same one!
Last Friday, I got a phonecall from another friend.
"Wai Jia, I need to talk to you."
"What's up?"
R is a final-year law student, a budding artiste, a friend who has encouraged and inspired me greatly in many ways. He is always full of ideas and just set up his own theatre company to put up Christian theatre works.
"I read your story about Uncle Tay and his 5 shirts. And I read your story about Grandpa Zhou. I'd been organising a series of lectures lately for our law faculty- the latest one being on the topic of Social Injustice. The speaker challenged us to find one aspect of society to pray for and to take action in during the next many months... and to set small goals... ... So, well... I want you to know I'm starting a movement, to raise awareness about helping the elderly in our society who fall through the cracks. I've been speaking to various social workers and agencies to compile a list of helpful services and hope to bring this to people, help people help others. And I need your help, because you're what inspired me."
We talked.
"So what made you stop for Grandpa Zhou the first time you met him? That's what I wanna know, that's what I feel we can impart to our youth today."
"To be honest, R," I said- I knew I was about to spoil his poetic moment, "if you read my writing, I hated Grandpa Zhou at the start. He was mean to me. And I was darn impatient. I was too proud to stop for him. I didn't want to. It was God who made me stop, changed my heart. He humbled me. That was how."
Just as I left Grandpa Zhou today and gave him another fifty-dollar note from a pool of money given to me by my junior's boyfriend (he, whom I've only met once, had given me all of his Chinese New Year money given to him by his relatives for any purpose I wanted) for his medical fees, I caught sight of Rachel, my 7-year old girl from my Sunday School class.
I had shared with my Sunday School children the story of Grandpa Zhou before. I had taught them the value of loving the needy. I remember she was most attentive during those lessons, and she even asked me several things even though she was normally quiet in class.
Now, she saw me bending low to talk to Grandpa Zhou. She saw for herself what she had heard in class.
All these tiny incidents served not to remind of my own goodness, but to remind me of how God could use someone as self-absorbed and proud as me, to reach out to someone else, and how just such a tiny act of obedience can have ripple effects on numerous people, things and circumstance around us.
You just never know.
So the next time you do good and feel weary about doing so, remember that God is not the only one touched. Your smile, your gesture, your one small act of love does not evaporate into thin air.
Like a tiny seed which is the beginning of a giant tree that can bear fruit and provide shade and beauty for many others, your tiny act of love, too, can go such a long way.
I never knew.
Regal Petroleum fined £600,000 by the LSE
Oil explorer Regal Petroleum has been fined £600,000 by the London Stock Exchange for releasing misleading information to investors four years ago.
The LSE said statements which Regal released between 2003 and 2005 claiming oil reserves of up to 227 million barrels at a Greek prospect were poorly founded and that the company was slow in telling investors when drilling revealed an absence of oil.
The news of the dry Greek wells prompted an 80 per cent drop in Regal's share price and led investors to force founder and major shareholder Frank Timis to resign as chairman.
Regal Petroleum was 'slow in telling investors' when drilling at a Greek prospect
revealed an absence of oil
'The number, nature and duration of the breaches demonstrate a systematic pattern of conduct evidencing a reckless disregard for the AIM Rules by Regal,' said the disciplinary authority for London's AIM junior market on which Regal is listed.
Regal said it was disappointed at the outcome of the LSE probe but added it was pleased to put the matter behind it.
'At no point has it been suggested that any of the current management team have conducted their responsibilities in anything other than a proper and professional manner,' the company said.
Most of Regal's management and directors have changed since 2005.
Current Chief Executive David Greer said, at the time he was appointed in 2007, that Timis, who is still Regal's second-largest investor with 8.8 per cent of the shares, had signed an agreement which precluded him from interfering with the operations of the company.
The UK's financial regulator, the Financial Services Authority, which launched a much-publicised drive against market abuse in recent years, decided last year not to proceed with an investigation into Regal.
Steven Gerrard's wife Alex Curran goes wet and wild in Dubai
Pampered WAG Alex Curran takes time out of her heavy sunbathing schedule to cool off from the hot Dubai sun at a water park.
Alex has left her husband Steven Gerrard and children Lilly-Ella, three; and Lexie, 20 months, at home in Merseyside while she enjoys a girls' holiday in the Middle East with Jude Cisse, wife of ex-Liverpool star Djibril and Thierry Henry's former wife Claire.
The 25-year-old has been photographed in an assortment of skimpy bikinis over the past week as she relaxes in a £2,000-a-night luxury villa.
Wild Wadi waterpark in Dubai
After several days lounging in the sun, Alex and her friends decided to take a day trip to the local Wild Wadi water park, where they splashed around in inflatable tyres and slid down water slides. After several days baking in the sun, Alex sensibly decided to cover up from the hot midday sun in a sailor-print t-shirt.
The holiday is the latest luxury bestowed on lucky Alex, who received a £100,000 Mercedes C class AMG from her footballer husband for Christmas. Alex has been looking forward to a rest after a busy few months. In November, she launched her own fragrance 'Alex' and promoted the scent as stores across the country.
Alex has fun with her girl friends while Steven looks after the children
Alex clears her wet hair off her face after spotting a photographer
In December, Alex and a female friend were left traumatised after a hooded gang broke into her and Steven's £3million house in Formby, Merseyside. The robbers escaped with jewellery worth thousands of pounds. It was the sixth raid in 18 months on the home of a Liverpool player. Meanwhile, Alex has been shortlisted for this year's Celebrity Mum of the Year Award, alongside fellow WAG and Spice Girl Victoria Beckham.
Alex covers up from the midday sun in a sailor print t-shirt
Leonardo DiCaprio's model lover cools off in a pink bikini on the French Riviera
All eyes were on Leonardo DiCaprio's girlfriend Bar Rafaeli as she showed off her model figure on St Tropez's beach yesterday. The Israeli beauty, 23, showed off her stunning curves which have landed her modelling jobs with Ralph Lauren and Victoria's Secret.
Bar Rafaeli strips down to her bikini as she prepares
to cool down in the Med
Arriving at the French Riviera's seaside with a female friend, a hot and bothered Bar swiftly removed her floral jumpsuit. It appeared the beauty was desperate to jump in the inviting water as quickly as possible as she performed a rapid strip before plunging into the refreshing sea. Bar's golden tan was perfectly complemented by her hot pink bikini and aviator shades.
Bar flicks her hair as if she's in a hair advert
Bar has plenty of male admirers as she enjoys her swim
Those unaware of Bar's celebrity status wouldn't be too hard pressed to guess her profession - as she arrived on the beach she swung her hair around shampoo ad-style. Meanwhile, Bar's actor boyfriend Leonardo was nowhere to be seen.
Bar enjoys the cooling water of the Med
The actor has just finished a string of movies and is set to start filming Quentin Tarantino Inglorious Bastards alongside Brad Pitt later this year.
The couple have been dating since 2006 after the Titanic star ended his long-term relationship with supermodel Gisele Bundchen
On a date with Leonardo DiCaprio who she has been seeing since 2006
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Time, Place, Person
*Wai Jia has just finished her one-month internship in the department of Internal Medicine and will begin her Geriatrics posting next week.
"Auntie! What time is it? Where are you? Who am I?"
She was shaking. Her eyes were droopy. Her head was tossed to one side sleepily, as her chest heaved up and down heavily. One look and you knew something was not right.
During my one-month internship at our local geriatric hospital, where I was tasked to function as a junior doctor under supervision, I saw many elderly patients being warded for the same condition. They would come in drowsy, trembling, mumbling to themselves, spouting gibberish or even flailing about violently, at all times of the day. Once, during my 36-hour sleepless night shift, I was tasked to catheterise a male elderly patient at 2 in the morning. This involves the dreadful task (no doubt more dreadful for the patient) of putting a tube with the diameter of a chopstick through a man's private parts to drain one of any urine which might be retained in his bladder, which could be the cause of infection, a common cause of delirium.
"Uncle, where are you?"
Gibberish was his reply.
Not all patients with delirium present as obviously, though. One little old lady whom I took care of came in looking nothing more but sleepy. It was only on further investigation that she was diagnosed with delirium. Asking a routine set of questions helps to clinch the diagnosis.
By asking 3 questions, "Auntie, what time is it? Is it morning or night?", "Auntie, where are you now?" and "Who am I?", one gets an idea of how oriented the patient is to Time, Place and Person. It is part of the Abbreviated Mental Test.
Delirium has a fluctuating course. Patients get better, then worse unexpectedly. Mdm T's daughter confided in me one day, "I'm very worried. My mother has never behaved like this before. She's been asking me why the patient sleeping opposite her doesn't have a roof over her bed! I thought she was getting better, now she's gotten worse!"
I could understand. Just a day ago when I asked Mdm T the 3 questions, she answered that she wasn't sure if it was night or day, that she was in prison, insisted that she had to take a walk to a particular place called St. Michael's so she could have some 'good food', and said she didn't know who I was, even though I'd been seeing her day after day.
Bizarre, no doubt. Patients in a state of delirium become disoriented to Time, Place and Person.
Not oriented to TPP, is what doctors would write in a patient's case notes. Delirium refers to a clouding of consciousness.
My one-month internship ended yesterday. With the responsibilities of a junior doctor under close supervision and having 36-hour shifts to slog through (a feat of stamina through the night, no doubt- it means working and seeing patients from 650am till 2pm the next day non-stop), I finally had a foretaste of what working as a doctor in the department of Internal Medicine is like. Working life is different, tougher. And unless one stays strong to one's goals and faith, one easily becomes disoriented.
It made me wonder if I too needed a reminder to be oriented to Time, Place and Person.
36-hour shifts (also known as calls) 6 times a month can really throw one into a circadian flux- am I ready for working life? I was only scheduled for 3 calls this time. I have never lost my temper with a patient, and could never understand when I heard stories about patients and doctors getting into arguements. But I learnt, that at 5am in the morning, sleep-deprived and hungry and overworked, one can lose one's cool easily in the face of an over-demanding, whining patient. I know I nearly did. Overwork can cause a clouding of consciousness too, I thought wryly.
Time.
I asked myself, did I know what time it was? It made me see the importance of orienting oneself to Time, even though my body clock had been thrown out of whack, because it would help me understand that at 5am in the morning, working non-stop since 6.50am the previous day, I needed God's grace to be extra patient, extra kind even though I was tired, cold and hungry and didn't need someone to complain about my blood-taking skills.
It reminded me, that in the face of overwork, we each need to realise our limitations and remind ourselves that at unearthly hours, we may not be the same person. This awareness can help us be more aware of our emotions and reactions to situations.
Place.
Did I know where I was? Do I know where I am? I learnt, that it is easy to complain about one's job. God, how can they make us work 36-hour shifts? God, how come there're so many sick patients, why are some of them so ungrateful, why am I so grumpy? Why am I so lousy at some procedures? Am I in the right profession? I realised, my complaining spirit came from forgetting where I am- on earth, on "the side of heaven which isn't perfect", as what Prof S had told me. Once I remembered where I was, in a place between perfection and loss, redemption and fall, then I came to see and appreciate God coming through for me as I journey from one world to the next.
Do you know where you are? Or do you, like me, complain in a way as if this world were meant to be perfect? We aren't there yet. Heaven is still a while away.
Person.
Have you ever doubted your abilities? Trust me, on a 36-hour call when you're asked to draw blood from a patient whose skin is coarse and wrinkly and whose veins are dry and collapsed from every angle and you can't get that precious vial of ruby gold, all those years of studying and intellectual amassing just make you feel like a fool for not being able to do the most basic job a junior doctor is expected to do. At 3am in the morning, when the phone keeps ringing and nurses keep calling regarding another breathless patient, I can only imagine the overwhelming sense of helplessness and stress one feels. I suppose, it comes from forgetting the person one is and the Person God is.
It helps to be reminded, that I am but a little person, a child still learning, still growing, and in times of desperation and utter frustration, the Person of God is bigger than me, and He, not I, is in control. God is also personal, and is with me even as I fumble and try my very best. Remembering this, often brings me the much needed calmness I need to steady my hands and the strength to tell myself that no matter what time it is, and where I am on this imperfect plane of existence, the Person of God will consistently bring us through our hurdles, struggles and challenges, through and beyond the 36-hour call.
It is 3am in the morning. I am on earth, in a transit from fall to redemption, sin to perfection. I am little but God is big and with me.
And all at once, I find that when I'm oriented to Time, Place and Person, my consciousness is no longer clouded, and I can work joyfully and peacefully again, with clarity of mind, at 5am in the morning.
"Uncle, I have to take blood from you. It'll just be like a big ant bite, okay?"
"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. "
"Auntie! What time is it? Where are you? Who am I?"
She was shaking. Her eyes were droopy. Her head was tossed to one side sleepily, as her chest heaved up and down heavily. One look and you knew something was not right.
During my one-month internship at our local geriatric hospital, where I was tasked to function as a junior doctor under supervision, I saw many elderly patients being warded for the same condition. They would come in drowsy, trembling, mumbling to themselves, spouting gibberish or even flailing about violently, at all times of the day. Once, during my 36-hour sleepless night shift, I was tasked to catheterise a male elderly patient at 2 in the morning. This involves the dreadful task (no doubt more dreadful for the patient) of putting a tube with the diameter of a chopstick through a man's private parts to drain one of any urine which might be retained in his bladder, which could be the cause of infection, a common cause of delirium.
"Uncle, where are you?"
Gibberish was his reply.
Not all patients with delirium present as obviously, though. One little old lady whom I took care of came in looking nothing more but sleepy. It was only on further investigation that she was diagnosed with delirium. Asking a routine set of questions helps to clinch the diagnosis.
By asking 3 questions, "Auntie, what time is it? Is it morning or night?", "Auntie, where are you now?" and "Who am I?", one gets an idea of how oriented the patient is to Time, Place and Person. It is part of the Abbreviated Mental Test.
Delirium has a fluctuating course. Patients get better, then worse unexpectedly. Mdm T's daughter confided in me one day, "I'm very worried. My mother has never behaved like this before. She's been asking me why the patient sleeping opposite her doesn't have a roof over her bed! I thought she was getting better, now she's gotten worse!"
I could understand. Just a day ago when I asked Mdm T the 3 questions, she answered that she wasn't sure if it was night or day, that she was in prison, insisted that she had to take a walk to a particular place called St. Michael's so she could have some 'good food', and said she didn't know who I was, even though I'd been seeing her day after day.
Bizarre, no doubt. Patients in a state of delirium become disoriented to Time, Place and Person.
Not oriented to TPP, is what doctors would write in a patient's case notes. Delirium refers to a clouding of consciousness.
My one-month internship ended yesterday. With the responsibilities of a junior doctor under close supervision and having 36-hour shifts to slog through (a feat of stamina through the night, no doubt- it means working and seeing patients from 650am till 2pm the next day non-stop), I finally had a foretaste of what working as a doctor in the department of Internal Medicine is like. Working life is different, tougher. And unless one stays strong to one's goals and faith, one easily becomes disoriented.
It made me wonder if I too needed a reminder to be oriented to Time, Place and Person.
36-hour shifts (also known as calls) 6 times a month can really throw one into a circadian flux- am I ready for working life? I was only scheduled for 3 calls this time. I have never lost my temper with a patient, and could never understand when I heard stories about patients and doctors getting into arguements. But I learnt, that at 5am in the morning, sleep-deprived and hungry and overworked, one can lose one's cool easily in the face of an over-demanding, whining patient. I know I nearly did. Overwork can cause a clouding of consciousness too, I thought wryly.
Time.
I asked myself, did I know what time it was? It made me see the importance of orienting oneself to Time, even though my body clock had been thrown out of whack, because it would help me understand that at 5am in the morning, working non-stop since 6.50am the previous day, I needed God's grace to be extra patient, extra kind even though I was tired, cold and hungry and didn't need someone to complain about my blood-taking skills.
It reminded me, that in the face of overwork, we each need to realise our limitations and remind ourselves that at unearthly hours, we may not be the same person. This awareness can help us be more aware of our emotions and reactions to situations.
Place.
Did I know where I was? Do I know where I am? I learnt, that it is easy to complain about one's job. God, how can they make us work 36-hour shifts? God, how come there're so many sick patients, why are some of them so ungrateful, why am I so grumpy? Why am I so lousy at some procedures? Am I in the right profession? I realised, my complaining spirit came from forgetting where I am- on earth, on "the side of heaven which isn't perfect", as what Prof S had told me. Once I remembered where I was, in a place between perfection and loss, redemption and fall, then I came to see and appreciate God coming through for me as I journey from one world to the next.
Do you know where you are? Or do you, like me, complain in a way as if this world were meant to be perfect? We aren't there yet. Heaven is still a while away.
Person.
Have you ever doubted your abilities? Trust me, on a 36-hour call when you're asked to draw blood from a patient whose skin is coarse and wrinkly and whose veins are dry and collapsed from every angle and you can't get that precious vial of ruby gold, all those years of studying and intellectual amassing just make you feel like a fool for not being able to do the most basic job a junior doctor is expected to do. At 3am in the morning, when the phone keeps ringing and nurses keep calling regarding another breathless patient, I can only imagine the overwhelming sense of helplessness and stress one feels. I suppose, it comes from forgetting the person one is and the Person God is.
It helps to be reminded, that I am but a little person, a child still learning, still growing, and in times of desperation and utter frustration, the Person of God is bigger than me, and He, not I, is in control. God is also personal, and is with me even as I fumble and try my very best. Remembering this, often brings me the much needed calmness I need to steady my hands and the strength to tell myself that no matter what time it is, and where I am on this imperfect plane of existence, the Person of God will consistently bring us through our hurdles, struggles and challenges, through and beyond the 36-hour call.
It is 3am in the morning. I am on earth, in a transit from fall to redemption, sin to perfection. I am little but God is big and with me.
And all at once, I find that when I'm oriented to Time, Place and Person, my consciousness is no longer clouded, and I can work joyfully and peacefully again, with clarity of mind, at 5am in the morning.
"Uncle, I have to take blood from you. It'll just be like a big ant bite, okay?"
"Because God is a person, He feels that which we feel.
After all, we are made in His image,
so it is expected that we would be able
to communicate our deepest feelings
and emotions to God."
-Billy Graham
"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. "
-1 Peter 5:7
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Halloween GaGa
Just thought I'd share this photo manip blend I did of Lady GaGa's OUT magazine photoshoot, which happens to be one of my favorite photoshoots of hers. And since Halloween is coming up soon, the mood is fitting!
On that note.... should I go as Lady GaGa again for Halloween this year or no? I was going to go as Michael Jackson but I'm really very lazy to go make a MJ costume... and I was Lady GaGa last year so I already have the wig and stuff so I would just have to figure out a different outfit..... what do you guys think?
Should I be MJ or GAGA for Halloween?
Say what you think in the comments box.
On that note.... should I go as Lady GaGa again for Halloween this year or no? I was going to go as Michael Jackson but I'm really very lazy to go make a MJ costume... and I was Lady GaGa last year so I already have the wig and stuff so I would just have to figure out a different outfit..... what do you guys think?
Should I be MJ or GAGA for Halloween?
Say what you think in the comments box.
Okra
I'm in love with the vegetable I recently found out about from my aunt. It is called "okra." I went to her house for dinner a few weeks ago and she served it as a side dish with the meal and I was like "omg this is really good!" so I tracked down where I could buy it from. One of the fruit and vegetable stores near me sells it. I've never really seen it before and I've only seen it at that store but it is my newest craze!
This is Okra
This is Okra
Peugeot draws inspiration from the 1940s for its latest quirky electric car design
It may not give you 'The Drive of Your Life', as its makers Peugeot may try to claim, but the latest micro electric car is creating huge excitement in the automotive industry. The Peugeot BB1, a cross between a scooter and a car, is powered by two electric motors which are mounted in the rear wheels.
A silver prototype BB1had residents and tourists stopping to take a closer peak when a prototype version rolled into Paris.
Inspired by Peugeot’s electric VLV from the 1940s, the new all-electric BB1 represents the car firm’s view for the future of electrical-based urban mobility.
The Peugeot BB1, a cross between a scooter and a car, is powered by two electric motors which are mounted in the rear wheels
Peugeot has based the design of the BB1 on its VLV from the 1940s
At just 2.5m long, the bubble-shaped BB1 can amazingly seat four people in saddle-like seats and its packaging miracle is achieved by rethinking the driving task.
There are no pedals so the driver sits more upright with the rear passenger's legs around the driver's torso, motorbike pillion-style.
There is no room for a steering wheel either and the driver uses handlebars to control the mini vehicle, which is undoubtedly a real head-turner.
Peugeot sought inspiration from quad bikes when planning the BB1's electric propulsion system, co-developed with tyre manufacturer Michelin. And the rear-wheel driven car is powered by two electric engines which give it plenty of poke. It can reach 0 to 19 mph in 2.8 seconds and 19 to 37 mph in an impressive four seconds, with a top speed of around 65mph. The power for the vehicle is provided by two lithium-ion battery packs supplying energy to the respective electric motors located under the right and left-hand rear seats, with a comfortable range of 75 miles.
The Peugeot BB1 could revolutionise the electric car industry
if it makes it to production
Peugeot says the BB1 is a logical addition to a vehicle line-up that incorporates bicycles and scooters, as well as cars. Access to the vehicle is gained via the reverse opening doors, while the load area access is through an innovative tailgate design. The body is made up of a very light carbon fibre structure, designed to wrap around the passenger compartment. Inside, the car has an extensive range of interactive technologies, including a colour multi-function display and audio system with telephone, navigation, Internet access, radio, MP3, USB connector and 12V power socket if necessary.
Peugeot’s keeping mum about whether it will actually put the BB1 into production.
A cameraman films the Peugeot BB1 prototype, styled on a 1940s design,
while it is parked outside a Parisian café
French business people flock around the new Peugeot BB1
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Rachel Uchitel wearing a sexy bikini behind her dog with a walk on the beach
After weeks of feeling the heat from the Tiger Woods scandal, bikini-clad beauty Rachel Uchitel is feeling the heat of a different kind - that of a sun-soaked beach. The 34-year-old club hostess has distanced herself from reports of the champion golfer's alleged infidelities, other than to deny having an affair with him. And it looked as though she didn't have a care in the world as she took in the Florida sunshine during a Christmas break with friends
Rachel heads for a dip in the warm waters off the Florida coast
Although she has publicly denied an affair, a source told the New York Post that Miss Uchitel claimed to have met Woods during a party held by Derek Jeter, who plays for the New York Yankees, at his apartment. 'This girl has a real history of sleeping with rich, powerful and famous people,' a friend told the Post. 'Rachel is going to end up going on Oprah, telling her story - and doing Playboy.'
What's up dog? Rachel shows off her toned figure in
It's reported that Woods, 33, has been spending his days in seclusion in a house he owns near the family home in Windermere, Florida, eating cereal and watching cartoons.
It's claimed his devastated wife recently ripped up their pre-nuptual agreement during another blazing row.
Tiger reportedly offered "tens of millions" to Elin Nordegren, 29, in a new deal to save his marriage.
She declares herself: 'Fearless lawyer, feminist, activist, television and radio commentator, warrior, advocate, and winner - Gloria Allred is all of these things and more.
Club hostess Rachel Uchitel enjoys the Florida sunshine with her dog - just seven miles from where Tiger Woods moors his private yacht
Rachel heads for a dip in the warm waters off the Florida coastThe native New Yorker is currently holidaying in Palm Beach, which just happens to be seven miles from where Woods moors his luxury yacht called 'Privacy'.
Although she has publicly denied an affair, a source told the New York Post that Miss Uchitel claimed to have met Woods during a party held by Derek Jeter, who plays for the New York Yankees, at his apartment. 'This girl has a real history of sleeping with rich, powerful and famous people,' a friend told the Post. 'Rachel is going to end up going on Oprah, telling her story - and doing Playboy.'
What's up dog? Rachel shows off her toned figure in her skull motif bikini
It's reported that Woods, 33, has been spending his days in seclusion in a house he owns near the family home in Windermere, Florida, eating cereal and watching cartoons.
It's claimed his devastated wife recently ripped up their pre-nuptual agreement during another blazing row.
Tiger reportedly offered "tens of millions" to Elin Nordegren, 29, in a new deal to save his marriage.
Rachel relaxes on a sunbed while her pet pooch stands guard
Tiger Woods' wife Elin Nordegren is proceeding with a divorce
But the former model tore up their original agreement, said a friend, adding: 'She'd take all his money if she could and she definitely wants the kids.'
His Swedish-born wife, Elin Nordegren, has made it clear to associates that she is pushing forward with a divorce.
She is believed to be meeting celebrity attorney Sorrell Trope - who has represented Nicole Kidman and Britney Spears - and could get up to £169million of his fortune.
Meanwhile it's thought Rachel has hired an expensive, high-profile Los Angeles attorney. Lawyer Gloria Allred acted for OJ Simpson and Michael Jackson and Spice Girl Melanie B in her paternity suit against Eddie Murphy.
She declares herself: 'Fearless lawyer, feminist, activist, television and radio commentator, warrior, advocate, and winner - Gloria Allred is all of these things and more.
Natalie Cassidy wearing bikini hits the beach...feeling 'happier, prettier and more womanly than ever'
Cassidy has undergone an amazing transformation from the girl formerly known as "the fat girl off the telly" to, she says, "feeling happier, prettier and more womanly than ever."
The former EastEnders star show off her toned physique in a succession of skimpy bikinis as she enjoyed a sunshine break in Portugal. Determined to shed her frumpy EastEnders image, Natalie began her transformation with a boost to her cleavage from a 36B to a 36D three years ago. Then an intense diet and fitness regime, including three workouts a week with personal trainer Dee Thresher saw her lose over two stone.
Natalie Cassidy unveils her beach-ready body as
she holdiayed in the Algarve, Portugal
Natalie said: "I used to get called that fat girl off the telly but I convinced myself that they were talking about the character.
"That was just a get-out clause, it wasn't as if I unzipped my fat suit and went home. "I feel happier, prettier and more womanly than ever." But it appears even on holiday she's taking no chances on slipping up with the diet - as she took her personal trainer with her.
Natalie's slimline physique will silence any rumblings that the actress has begun to regain some of the 2.5st in weight she has lost
The 24-year-old actress' fitness DVD 'Then and Now' became a Christmas bestseller, outdoing those by diet and fitness queen Rosemary Conley and TV presenter Davina McCall. However, there were rumblings that she had begun to regain some of the weight after she was seen dressed in an unflattering outfit. But clearly that was a blip as Natalie appeared on the beach yesterday in a tiny black bikini, which showed there was not extra inch of flab to pinch.
Clearly Natalie is taking no chances as her holiday companion is none other than her personal trainer Dee Thresher
Itsy bitsy blue bikini
The 5ft 4in celebrity has dropped from a size 16 to an incredible size 8 which she attributed to an intense fitness regime and paying attention to her diet. Natalie was accompanied on her beach break by an unusual choice of companion - her personal trainer Dee Thresher.
Clearly she's has no intention of relaxing her new regime while on holiday, as they even took part in a beachside training session. She recently revealed how she has managed to keep her new size-eight figure.
Natalie wore a succession of skimpy bikini's,
and is clearly proud of her new figure
"I don't feel as if I'm depriving myself any more. I don't want to eat crispy pork belly or liver and chips, which I would have eaten before," says Natalie, who at 5ft 4in weighs 8st 1lb.
"I've tried loads of diets and I'd think: 'I've finished the diet, now I'll go back to how I used to eat.' But I feel I've cracked it - I'm maintaining my weight, which is the hardest thing."
Now Natalie, who lost the weight through exercising with personal trainer Dee Thresher, and her own diet, feels she's found a balance which means she's not depriving herself.
Natalie's recipe for success is no carbs in the evening and
the odd gin and slimline tonic
There's no need to suck in her slim tummy on the beach
She told The Mirror: "I still enjoy myself, I just don't eat the rubbish. It's the little things that add up. "I'll have a gin and slimline tonic, I don't eat carbs in the evening, I'll snack on low-fat yogurt and blueberries and I'll do my DVD (Natalie's Then And Now Workout, £19.99) three times a week."
She added: "I'm comfortable with my weight between 8st 8lb and 8st 1lb - it's important to have that extra half-stone leeway, so you don't panic if you put on a few pounds."
Natalie as she appeared in 2006 at the TV Quick Awards before
she dropped four dress sizes
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