Murphy's Law is a popular adage that states that in any given situation, whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. For instance, if a slice of bread with Nutella falls on the floor, it will land with the Nutella side down. This will also happen, most likely, on the day we've just cleaned the floor.

Eleven-thirty at night. I'm on call, and tomorrow - or rather, today - is my second shift. Nothing is predictable in this world, especially not in our medical world. I was just fantasizing about getting a good night's sleep just before my shift, which is supposed to start with a major surgery in the morning. What are the odds of me getting a good night's sleep before the shift?

At twelve-thirty at night, a phone call - a very sick child with appendicitis. The roads seem darker as I begin to realize that the slice of bread with Nutella is definitely going to fall on the exhaustion that's spread across my face. The journey feels endless, the operating room is getting ready, and the surgery eventually starts at three in the morning. At four-thirty in the morning, I return to my car and finally crash on the living room sofa for a groggy hour before a long day of another shift.

The hours afterwards pass on autopilot, the adrenaline in the blood always somehow compensates for fatigue and sore muscles. When the moment comes to rest your head for a bit, it's such a blessed moment - one that can't be described in words. Someone once told me there's a thing called "Anti-Murphy's Law" - whenever you expect to encounter Murphy's Law, it won't happen. So, approaching my shift tonight, I'm expecting Murphy to show up - hoping he won't, and if he does, hoping it won't be with a severe surgical issue.