Mikhail & Sheila 2009

2009-07-04T04:52:00.000-07:00

Uganda.

It makes you wonder how it all happened, the colonization, the inequality, the poverty, all in such a beautiful country. What series of circumstances, what coincidences, what ideals and ideas came together to shape Uganda the way it did? I was talking to Isaac, a local medical student over tea yesterday, who told me that on the street if someone yelled “thief!” and pointed to a foreigner, everyone would disbelieve or avert their eyes but if someone yelled thievery and pointed to a Ugandan, local bystanders would assault the supposed thief without a second thought. What has shaped society to become this? Why aren't we like this in Canada?

My trip so far is best rememered in snapshots I think. Of the torrential rain every morning followed by sunshine and a warm day. Diesel smoke in the downtown of the capital city, Kampala, from all the diesel fumes of the private cars, matatus, boda-bodas, trucks, making the fumes into a haze so thick you can almost chew and swallow it. Rode a boda-boda for the first time yesterday, those populous little motorbikes that whiz around on small and large roads and weave through weeknight traffic. Even the locals advise against them because of the large number of lives annually they claim, and legs, arms, eyes, but for the short haul into downtown, the shot of adrenaline is worth it.

I'm greeted every morning by Ugandans both familiar and strangers, children and adults, with a “good morning, how are you?” and friendly wave as I walk to work. In the afternoon it's “good afternoon, how are you?”, sometimes a handshake. I have yet to see an elderly person, even walking through the city center in Kampala. I see the other end of the spectrum, the births, every day at work. It's a bit different here, the decisions doctors need to make. Even more poignant are the questions of “what can we do with what we have?”. Can we deliver a malpositioned baby without a c-section, risking a stillbirth? Do we have enough supplies to last the month? Can we deal with labour pains in other ways because narcotics and epidurals aren't available? What do we do with babies who are born with cords around the neck, with bleeding into the brain, with bowel perforations, with malformations and asphyxia? How can we convince mothers to take their HIV status seriously when it's so stigmatized but so easily passed on from mother to child? Childbirth anywhere but in the western world is a messy, bloody, painful, tiring, and traumatic experience. Every baby born alive is a miracle.

I was standing in the neonatal ICU the other day, what they call the “nursery” here, barefoot and dressed in a sanitized hospital gown, looking around at all the tiny incubators with the tiny IV lines, respirators and feeding tubes. I catch myself wondering what these babies have to live for, if they ever make it out of the hospital alive. This one that was born at 1 kg birth weight, that one, who had already undergone surgery for a perforated bowel, the other one, with unexplained liver failure.

Andrew, a local medical student I'm working with in obstetrics, asked me what the meaning of life was in North America. Is it different than here in Uganda?

2009-07-02T18:29:00.000-07:00

The wedding registry has been updated! Access it here. We use MyRegistry.com, which Sheila and I have populated with items found at different stores online such as Crate & Barrel, IKEA, Staples, etc. When you order an item through it, you ship it to my home address, and we receive an e-mail informing us of the purchase. The item is then marked as purchased for other users of the registry.

One problem we had with the registry was that Amazon.com purchases could not be shipped to Canada... kind of a problem. I've now either removed those items or replaced them with similar items available from other stores.

We set up the registry so that people uncomfortable with giving monetary gifts could have some idea of our needs and the kinds of things we'd like to bring into our new home. To make it easier for out-of-town guests and others to make donations and help us find our feet financially, we've set up an easy way to give through paypal. You can find it on our gifts page.

2009-07-02T18:20:00.000-07:00

So with Sheila away for a month on medical elective overseas, I have become tasked with continuing the wedding preparations. I've been working on wedding details for the last week and it can be a frustrating task. Each aspect of the wedding has many details that can take hours to deal with. I spent at least two hours today looking up car rental information for the honeymoon. Not used to projects of this magnitude, I joked to a friend I had studied physics with at Columbia: "I feel like Oppenheimer at Los Alamos."

He responded: "You let me know if you find yourself saying things like 'I am become death, destroyer of worlds' -- I'm pretty sure wedding planning should not elicit that feeling." Certainly not! I hope physicists aren't the only ones that can appreciate this joke.

2009-06-28T07:20:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to be on my way to Africa...but our flight from Newark to Brussels was delayed for 4 hours, and we missed our Brussels to Entebbe flight. Soo now I'm stuck in Belgium for 3 days having waffles and chocolate, wandering the streets and sampling the beer...I'm a little bit in disbelief. Continental put us up in Novotel Tour Noire for a night, staying in a hostel tonight. We're flying out to Entebbe tomorrow morning first class though, which is good compensation for keeping us delayed in Europe for 2 days. Oh well, an unexpected vacation in Belgium. I need to convert some money to Euros.

2009-06-11T06:34:00.000-07:00

Our beloved photographers have now posted some of our pre-wedding shots here
Check them out and comment! =)

2009-06-01T13:33:00.000-07:00

Today:

It is a moment of light surrounded on all sides by darkness and oblivion. In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another just like it and there will never be another just like it again. It is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious it is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.

"This is the day which the Lord has made," say the 118th Psalm. "Let us rejoice and be glad in it." Or weep and be sad in it for that matter. The point is to see it for what it is because it will be gone before you know it. If you waste it, it is your life that you're wasting. If you look the other way, it may be the moment you've been waiting for always that you're missing.

All other days have either disappeared into darkness and oblivion or net yet emerged from them. Today is the only day there is; let us, indeed, rejoice and be glad in it!

-Frederick Buechner from Whistling in the Dark

2009-05-21T12:48:00.000-07:00

In New York I celebrated my commencement ceremony yesterday, completing my undergraduate studies and receiving my bachelor of science degree. There are two sides to this experience: yesterday the immense rush of marching among my peers in a long procession until campus swelled with a sea of students in full academic regalia, watching as president, provost, officers, trustees and faculty descended the steps to their places on the stage. It was a long commencement, with many honorary degrees being conferred. The university president, in his address, spoke on the need to secure our freedom of access to information in the 21st century, in an era when civil liberties are under threat and our ideals must compete in a growing global marketplace of ideas. (The graduates from the Journalism School absolutely drank up this speech. Students from other schools seemed less enchanted).

After the long ceremony and a few photos, I made my way over to my department office to say farewell to my professors and pick up my diploma. My professors were kind and congratulatory. We joked about how in physics nobody wants to talk to you about what you study. Astrophysics is a little kinder, but then people assume you're a rocket scientist, which isn't accurate. With that, and a few more greetings, I left and returned home. Much of the rest of the day and late into the night, I was busy packing the rest of my things.

The good vibes don't last long. Today my university housing officially expires. My ID card is already being rejected from every security access point on campus. I returned my mailbox key and with that resigned my New York address. I think that was the hardest part.

I'm excited and somewhat anxious for the summer. It will be good to rest, pursue reading and hobbies, prepare for the wedding and the move into the new apartment. I would wish that the summer were more low-key. If there is time, I'd like to do some more photography and editing, some reading, and try strengthening my background in astrophysics and programming before starting graduate school in the Fall. Sheila and I will keep you posted.

2009-05-04T14:05:00.000-07:00

We found our new place!!
This is all very super exciting. It was the most unexpected thing, just like everything else that's happened to me over the past year and a half I guess... the marriage and the med school, McMaster, my own personal growth and my friendship with a certain friend of mine.
The whole apartment episode started less than a week ago, one night while I was waiting for a ride outside my current apartment building. A lady approached me, asking if it would be worth looking for an apartment in the building. The conversation ended with her offering to sublet my current place from me and our exchanging contact info. She signed the rental agreement within the next few days. Then came the flurry of searches on Kijiji, Craig's List, and every other apartment rental site indexed in Google, looking for 2 bedroom places with parking in Hamilton off mountain. When Melissa came this past weekend, we scoped out a bunch of places on Friday including a brand-new 2 bedroom with skylight on the top floor of a building, right in the center of downtown. It seemed perfect: convenient, trendy, big, new, priced well, upstairs of a coffee shop. Throughout dinner and our girls night in that night though, I grew increasingly unsettled about signing that place even though I couldn't really explain why. I didn't like the layout of the place...or something. I decided to keep looking for another week or so. After a delicious crepe brunch on Saturday morning, just as Melissa was going to take off for Toronto, I got a call from the apartment next door, which I'd wanted to scope out sometime that weekend. We went up, took a look, fell in love, and I signed the lease the very next day. 12 post-dated cheques for the next 12 months.
So now I'm packing up my current 1 bedroom place (in between wedding planning, searching for electives and learning about infectious disease) and I'll be relocating in a little less than 3 weeks! I'm so excited about the place! It has these fat black and white tiles on the kitchen and bathroom floor, detailed hardwood flooring everywhere else, two walk-in closets, fireplace in the living room, clawfoot tub, glass-paneled bookcase in the study built into the wall, south-facing windows, 10 ft. high ceilings, central AC...and importantly, I finally have parking.
Photos to come when I move all my stuff in...

2009-04-06T09:03:00.000-07:00

Pictures from the weekend in Hamilton:

2009-04-06T08:53:00.000-07:00

Some photos from our most recent visit to Montreal.

Near Prince Arthur.

A mural on Prince Arthur street or thereabouts.

The best name for a bistro.

At the costume shop we discovered.

This was fun.

We love Montreal.

2009-04-06T08:47:00.000-07:00

I'm in the process of posting some photo-updates. So as far as wedding plans are progressing: we do have a veil now.

A note to future couples: you can find the same kind of veil in a costume shop as is likely to be found in a bridal shop. Veils are far more expensive than they need to be in bridal shops, so just buy one at a costume shop and don't tell anybody you bought it there. We wish that we had discovered this fact sooner. The photo from above is at David's Bridal in Queens, NY.

Other wedding progress: Invitations are slowly making their way out. I ought be dropping off more NY invites soon. Hopefully that will be done this week. I also need to update the website with more wedding details. Our registry details need more explanation. The best man and I have both been measured for our tuxes. The other groomsmen will need to get measured soon.

2009-03-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

So let me explain that career switch Sheila was talking about. Until about a year ago I was strongly considering doing a career in fusion energy research. Through the applied physics department where I am currently finishing my undergraduate degree, I was studying plasma physics--the physics of ionized gases, which behave like fluids and can be manipulated using magnetic and electric fields. They have all kinds of special properties and combine the studies of fluid dynamics and electrodynamics. Under certain circumstances this is called magnetohydrodynamics (MHD). I did some research as an undergrad and took some classes in plasma, but started to wonder whether I'd enjoy everyday work in this field, with the end of working towards fusion energy production.

Instead, I began to reconsider a subject I had long since left by the wayside, figuring I wanted to do more applied work: I began to reconsider doing astrophysics. This came after receiving some career advise from different unusual sources: a faculty dinner with a neuroscientist and a neurosurgeon, as well as a life-issues discussion over coffee with my friend Stephanie. From the former I learned that I ought to be considering what I could see myself doing from day to day, and from the latter I was able to find peace being a "useless" career academic, rather than having a more "applied" type job. People keep telling me I don't fit the engineering school mold. (I masquerade as a liberal arts student, taking philosophy, literature and music classes).

So I was excited to take up astrophysics again. I am looking at doing computational astrophysics. Explanation: I will be using computer simulations to study stars, planets and galaxies. Simulation is a powerful tool for testing our theories and for giving us new research directions. I've been accepted at McMaster University to study this. I will be beginning graduate work there in September. Since describing my work has probably already alienated most of our audience (sorry Sheila), here's a video from YouTube to give you an idea of what computational astrophysicists do. This is a simulation of a collision between two galaxies, ostensibly ours and the M31 Andromeda galaxy.

Sheila is marrying a dork.

2009-03-18T16:32:00.000-07:00

So more big news (it seems like for the past year, my life has been one "big news" after another).

First of all, Mikhail was accepted the other day into the Astrophysics department at McMaster, meaning that now, officially, we can plan to move in together after the honeymoon in August. It's definitely very exciting; it means I finally get to pull out my IKEA catalogue again and tag pages of furniture to match my white and red apartment color scheme. It also means that in my "spare time" I can apartment shop for a new loft or 2 bdrm place nearby and fill the registry with more "household" items. It's also much of a relief...it assures us that we'll be together for the next two years. It was a decision we'd made a while ago, the one to be together, but it's nice to have confirmation that things are working out to move us closer together. Astrophysics has been a bit of a career switch for Mikhail, from fusion energy to black holes, but it's probably something that'll be much more fun. I can let him tell you guys about that part.

Secondly, I'm going to Uganda in July with a team of med students from Mac. I'll be there for a month working obs/gyn, internal medicine, surgery. There are about 16 of us in total from my class, not all of us going at the same time. We'll be spread out over at least three different hospitals - two in Kampala, the capital city, and one in Mbarara near the Rwandan border. I'm aiming to go to Mbarara...and not just because it's close to the greatest national parks in all of Africa! I also mean to help people, really.
It's finally happening though; going on medical missions to Africa has always been my dream. And I'm sure it won't be exactly as I've dreamed, or even close, but it'll be one of those life-changing experiences both career-wise and character-wise. I guess I'm feeling a whole mix of things, all of elation, excitement, anxiety, apprehension and contentment all rolled into one. The last, contentment, just because everything's now falling into place. My pursuit of medicine, moving out, the wedding, my future husband's career. We've both received scholarships, his for Astro and mine for Uganda; God is taking care of us.

Not to say that med school is a breeze. It has definitely been (and is still/will be) a struggle balancing the amount of time I have my head in my laptop with the time I have a stethoscope around my neck with the time I have to myself, sleeping, hanging out with friends, talking to my fiancé. But it's that slow lesson that all (future) doctors need to learn: that you'll never know everything about medicine, or be able to help everyone you want to help; someday I hope to get close to being right at balancing all the right things in life.

But now the clock is ticking and I need to cook dinner, organize my notes, pay my bills, take a shower and learn all there is to know about chronic renal failure before I go to bed tonight. Maybe my beloved fiancé will be the next to post.

2009-03-10T20:17:00.000-07:00

New York is always a gastronomical adventure.
Three weeks ago, I was in the City again visiting after finishing up a grueling unit on gastroenterology and endocrinology. It was a great five-day vacation in New York. I did tons of shopping (but proud to say that I didn't spend that much!), picked up a veil at David's Bridal, and of course spent good quality time with Mikhail. Since we'd mentally postponed our "Valentine's Day" of the previous week, we went out some place special for our own Vday. Check out the Spice Market:

Great food presentation! And it was super tasty. Some kind of Vietnamese, Indian, Thai fusion...delicious!

This is where we sat for dinner. Notice the really cool pseudo-Indian temple structure in the background. Definitely brownie points of ambiance.

We also went to a bar called Fat Baby, which I made Jon Ho yell out three or four times over the phone that morning because I couldn't catch what he was saying. Street noise, what can I say... Something about "stat abie" or "tat tabee"...he ended up just saying "like a fat kid". And I got it. Jon's band, Patrick Murphy, played there one Thursday night. They were very groovy, very chill. Nice job guys.

2009-01-23T10:53:00.000-08:00

So here come the updates. Sheila was just writing about all the big changes that are happening very quickly and, indeed, we've really seen big shifts in our thinking. It's been sobering to think about life less in terms of one's own ambitions, but how the ambitions of two people can be joined together. The changes that have happened over the last year that are bringing us to an early wedding date and an early time in our lives were not really things we could have foreseen or predicted then, but had to trust that in the right time, things would fall into place. So it's been a trying, but also miraculous, year for us both.

Below, I've attached some photos taken last month when we got together with Sheila's bridesmaids to work on assembling the invitations for the wedding. Enjoy!

I was obviously the hardest-working member of the assembly team.

2009-01-22T14:59:00.000-08:00

It's 2009!
Mikhail and I were talking on the phone the other day about how, after the passing of the new year, everything seems accelerated. The wedding plans are gearing up, decisions need to be made, weekends in Montreal need to be planned, dates need to be set and there are just over 200 days left until The Day. In addition to all of those things, an apartment in Hamilton needs to be found for the fall for the two of us, plans need to be made for moving and getting a car, summer plans need to be solidified...There's just too much to think about.
Honestly, it still feels a little whirlwind, a little hard to believe. We're both still incredulous at the fact that we're at this stage in life, that we're not kids, or teens, or "just university students" anymore. I remember thinking, one year ago, that there was so long until we could be married. We weren't sure a year ago when the wedding would happen or what it would look like. And looking forward even now, August seems such a long way away. At the same time, it's all coming a little too fast. And even though Pastor Chan has assured us repeatedly in pre-marital counseling that we're ready for this, and that because we're pledged to each other that we're pretty much already married, it still feels a bit strange to me to think of myself as a wife.
I'm really a grownup now.

2008-11-12T14:34:00.000-08:00

I wanted to post an update: we've now officially booked the reception hall for the wedding. We'll be hosting the reception at Montreal's Musée des Beaux-Arts, in their Hall of Mirrors (pictured unadorned below). We both feel like the receipt of confirmation is an important milestone in the long process of planning the wedding and it gives us some relief knowing that this part is complete. There was confusion surrounding the issue of insurance and to be sure, not all issues surrounding the reception have been sorted out. We still need to sort out music, a DJ, a sound system, etc. We've selected a caterer for the event and we'll surely have more logistics to go over with them as well. We're still thrilled that things are progressing and that this one important piece has been laid down.

I uploaded a few photos from our most recent visit to the Musée this past August.

Sitting on the "cow" together.

A photo of the Michal and Renata Hornstein Pavilion, on the north side of Sherbrooke street in Montreal.

A photo of the hall itself, without any chairs, tables or flowers. But we had Joelle and Keith!

2008-11-05T21:39:00.001-08:00

It’s been a year since Mikhail told me that if I was to be involved with any man, he would want it to be him. And what a year it’s been. It’s also been almost a year since we started talking about marriage. The journey has been rough in some places, but has given us ecstatic rushes in others. We have learnt invaluable lessons about communication and eloquence, patience, timing, contentment, idolatry, and have found a much richer meaning in our lives than we otherwise would have discovered had we not discovered each other. Maybe the hardest part is over. Maybe the hardest part is still to come. In ten years we will look back at this period in our lives probably with a mix of amusement, admiration at the ordeal we had to go through and relief that it’s over. Waiting is excruciatingly difficult sometimes. At other times, we’re able to enjoy our time apart as a time of stretching and growing, and a time of learning life lessons that better prepare us for married life.

The biggest issue we’ve recently wrestled with, and are slowly coming to terms with, has to do with living a purposeful and meaningful life, a life that does not follow worldly conventions but one that is deeply spiritual. We’ve observed the all consuming drive of North American culture to be highly educated, well-liked, and successful in career. We feel the pressures, as much as the rest of you, our readers, to conform to the expectations of the culture we live in – to pursue the highest level of education possible for the sake of being educated and for the prestige of that final degree, to be well-off and live a comfortable life. But there is a way to live life differently, more vibrantly, carving our own niche in the face of all of that expectation.

The next year will be one of those life-changing years. We still don’t know what to expect, but we know that it’ll be good. We’re well taken care of.

2008-10-20T20:38:00.000-07:00

Some photos from the weekend in Hamilton and Toronto:

Making faces in the mirror.

Sheila shoots me reading about South East Asian tribal civilization at the Royal Ontario Museum.

Sheila is all distraught that the "gems and minerals" exhibit is under renovation.

But at least she was pleased with the dinosaurs.

Another photo of me in clothes I don't actually own and can't really afford.

2008-10-20T19:26:00.000-07:00

I got back from Hamilton early this morning. I took an overnight bus out of Toronto, arriving in New York City at 7 am. The air was cold and Penn Station was already full of people on their way to work. I took my luggage and descended into the subway and promptly caught the 1 Train headed uptown. I arrived back at my "home" at about 7:45 am and went to sleep shortly thereafter. I got two hours of solid rest after ten hours aboard a moving and shaking bus.

Life has been moving far too quickly. I think I owe it to the curious readers to explain some of the more important decisions that Sheila and I have been making and our upcoming life changes. For a variety of reasons, not the least of which have been my desire to support Sheila as she pursues medical school, to establish my personal career bearings and rest from the frantic, almost destructive, pace of life at Columbia in New York City, I have decided to take a kind of sabbatical. Upon graduation next year, and after our marriage, I will be moving to Hamilton. I will seek employment to help support our life together. My ambition is still to complete my studies in physics at some reputable university, but in precisely which specialty or at which university is still unclear to me. I have feared accusations of squandering my talents, or derailing my future, in taking a course of action that removes from academics for a year or more. To my accusers I reply that they do not understand the full weight of this decision, the personal struggle that both preceded and followed it, nor my changing perspectives which place a greater importance on the integrity and unity of the marriage relationship that Sheila and I will share. During our joint stay in Hamilton, Sheila will be challenged with a more demanding phase of medical school and it is not one that I would wish her to face alone. For myself, I believe it necessary that I withdraw from formal academics while I weigh my career goals for the future. The timing of everything seemed awkward at first, but at present we see it with greater clarity. It makes more sense to us this way. Once Sheila's tenure at medical school is complete and she engages residency opportunities, I can make my own graduate school applications together with her. Then we will see what opportunities open for us, and which doors God opens and which He closes. It took a great deal of emotional turmoil for me to reach this conclusion, but now I have peace over it and I have great hope and great anticipation for this chapter of our life together.

This past weekend was spent in Hamilton and Toronto, together with Sheila. Though I had visited on two occasions previously, this time I saw it with new eyes. I looked about Hamilton, what felt like a sleepy old steel town, as my new home. This strange sensation overtook me in almost every shop we entered. These would be my neighbors. These would be my new haunts: the bookstore with the surprisingly rich collection of literature; the coffee shop with the mishmash of old wooden chairs and small tables, original artwork on the walls, and a proprietor that seemed to switch between this very imperial British accent and a homey Ontario one. Stuck onto the glass of her cupboard in her little shop was a cutout photograph of Queen Elizabeth. Old artifacts of British loyalism abounded in this steel town of a half million residents. This was especially funny for me to see after being raised in French Quebec and then spending several years in the American liberal epicenter of Manhattan. I found the street names (York, King, Queen, James, Locke,...) strangely comforting.

The people, too, were generally quite friendly. Even the teenagers, for all their rebellious ostentation, still shouted their thanks to the front of the bus before debarking. I found this amusing. The contrast was clear when this morning, in Penn Station, I saw expletives adorn one individual's shirt as I moved among the crowds of busy people.

There was one more remarkable experience I feel I should write about and that was our experiences at the church we visited on Sunday. Sheila and I both feel like we have found our new "home" church. Philpott Memorial was very welcoming and the pastor spoke with genuine candor and conviction. He struck us as a man of great learning and great character, knowledgeable in philosophy and psychology, deeply appreciative of the arts, and full of grace. His vision of Christ's gospel is much like the one I have come to love at my New York church of Apostles. It is one of grace and justice; hope now for a fullness of life and meaning, restoration from brokenness into community with others, with Creation, and with God. The pastor confessed that his own personal disposition was one of melancholy (much like my own), but that he lived for a hope and power that could trump that nature and imbue life with fullness, with "zoe".

All these things greatly encouraged me, and it was a really refreshing weekend to spend with my fiancée. I'm sorry that I have been so slow to update, but I hope that you found this interesting and worth reading.

2008-10-01T17:00:00.000-07:00

I was perusing Amazon.com for a toaster about a month ago, because my roommate wanted to get one for the kitchen. We kept it pretty vanilla, in the end, but I was terribly tempted to get what must be described as a toaster from outer space! Check it out!
Isn't it wonderful?! Ironically the brand of this toaster is "Back to Basics."

Hint hint wedding present!

2008-09-29T07:01:00.000-07:00

I'm going back to Montreal this coming weekend!
Why? It's a combination of a lot of things.

1. Missing Montreal is a bit of it - Hamilton hasn't grown on me as a city and I doubt it ever will. Being back in the cultured and charming city of Montreal will feel like a breath of fresh air.
2. Seeing friends. With a program as socially disconnected as mine is, there are very few familiar faces here; it can get lonely. It would be nice to hang out with and be around friends again. Plus I get to meet up with all of my bridesmaids; Joelle will be back from Ottawa.
3. Picking up some much needed things at home like a penlight and a mini-vacuum! Without a car, I have access to very few places in Hamilton and I've yet to come across a department store on a bus route.
4. Not having to cook for myself would be a welcome break, and
5. my parents seem to miss me a lot.
6. And I get to practice my Principles of Physical Examination on my guinea pig...err...little sister.

So, I'm going home.

2008-09-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

Sheila came to New York!
This weekend we're celebrating 11 months together and today was spent enjoying the City. We visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, had lunch in Bryant Park, did a bit of shopping, went down to the South Street Seaport, enjoyed Cuban tapas for dinner and then found our way back home. Here are a very small sampling of photos from today's adventures...

The new Greek and Roman galleries at the Met provided ample inspiration. Personally, I aspire to this man, and perhaps will start gaining more respect after wearing an animal on my head and perming my beard.

Asmat canoe: made to seem unusually long by keeping a short depth of field. Sheila gets the credit for this one.

You won't believe what they put on the roof of the Met! Giant inflated poodle! Actually it's a work designed by Jeff Koon and is made of steel. Could have fooled us, though.

Sheila strides about gracefully... at the Egyptian Temple of Dendur.

I fall in love with baby Snapple. Then fall out of love with it after drinking some.

Sheila borrows the hat to pose in Bryant Park after lunch.

We got away with setting up a tripod inside the New York Public Library at Bryant Park. Nobody bothered us at the end of a long hallway, so we had some fun with the great lighting and shadows.

At the Seaport, shortly before a police (or security?) officer (believed to be the blurry figure in white approaching us in the shot) stopped us. No tripod use in the Seaport apparently...but we still got away with it on the pier, taking the next few shots.

Brooklyn Bridge at night, with the current "New York Waterfalls" exhibit (by Olafur Eliasson) on display. This was one of four waterfalls visible from the pier.

2008-09-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

I took this shot from Riverside Park last Monday morning.

2008-09-07T21:31:00.000-07:00

A chapter is made up of pages. And pages take time to write.
But at the beginning, the sight of many blank pages ahead inspire different feelings in different authors. Anticipation, excitement, nervousness, dread.
So it is with starting this new chapter of my life. The old has gone, the new has come, huh?
Moving out for the first time, starting medical school, preparing for a wedding...all of these are huge changes. Emotional ones too.

Moving to Hamilton has been a little bit scary, not only because Hamilton is a bit of a shady town, but because for the first time, I have to make it on my own with very little social support. I have my friends, who are a long-distance phone call or an email away. I have new friends, whom I don't know well. I can't depend on my parents to housekeep, cook or do laundry for me anymore. My fiancé lives in another country. For the past few weeks, I've felt a little bit like I'm treading water, just trying to keep my head above the waves. It hasn't been so bad, though I've never been good at treading water. I tire easily, and thankfully, the feeling of treading water is slowly fading away. My friends, old and new, have assured me that they're there for me, I'm learning my way around, my fiancé continuously assures me of his love and support of me and my parents still call almost every day. I'm having fun learning, socializing, exploring, adapting. The transition has been smooth, and God has been good to me. I have learned foresight to cook food for the next few meals.

Fitting in around campus has also not been so easy. Although taking part in campus groups and meeting other Mac students has been fun, the inevitable question always comes: "What do you study?" Do I avoid the question? Do I give an incomplete response? Because every time I admit that I'm a first year medical student, there's some kind of strange reaction of shock and awe. The person invariably takes a step back, or widens their eyes, or waves their arms around, or does something else to convey their excitement. And then the barrage of questions come, about what medical school is like and if I can give them tips to get in or how to study or how I must be "so smart" to have gotten into med school. I can't tell them I think it's a fluke; their disbelief would overwhelm me. But it's true, I feel like the most unintelligent person in my class, an imposter, and that one of these days, someone will realize that I shouldn't have gotten in. That my admission was almost a stroke of common chance. I'm told that most first year medical students feel this way, which comforts me marginally. I'm also told not to worry because it's next to impossible to fail out of medical school. That's also marginally comforting but doesn't completely assuage my fears. It begs the question: "So there's that one person who does...?"

Starting medical school has been another change of a different nature. Embarking on this path to a new career, one of such high profile and great expectation, is both exciting and a little intimidating. I feel like I'm at that place again: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" What do I want to apply for residency in? What do I want to specialize in? What do I want to do for the rest of my life? How is society going to see me and what is expected of me? It's almost like I've opened up this door and I'm blinding by this beautiful and brilliant light on the other side. Maybe things will become clearer in a years time.

The most stable change in my life has been my engagement and upcoming marriage. Not only have I had a deep assurance that this is the right thing to do and am building on a beautiful relationship, my fiancé has been the rock solid moral support figure throughout the million and one changes I feel are happening in my life. Yes, this is probably the biggest change of all, and all my colleages call me "adventurous" for planning a wedding and honeymoon during my one week of summer vacation next August, but it is the one thing I am most comfortable with and most sure of. This journey of exploring and developing this relationship is, and is going to be, so exciting.

Chapters are interesting. This one will probably span a forseeable decade, filled with emotion and action.They take a long time to write, but when written well, are also very beautiful to read.

2008-08-25T22:26:00.000-07:00

The following is reiterated at my other blog.

I'm spending the day at home, resting and reflecting, listening to and archiving music from my family's disc collection to take with me back to New York. It's quiet and there's hardly a thing to disrupt my thoughts, and yet I'm still restless, continually distracted by small frustrations. I'm feeling anxious about returning to New York. I haven't had much time really to rest. I slept in until noon today, terrorized by strange dreams about the world coming to an end, and about Tom Cruise trying to disrupt my wedding. I forget if those were two separate dreams or part of the same.

I want to write down some thoughts I've been having about communication. I believe now that there is hardly such a thing as purely objective communication between people. By objective communication I mean the transmission of thought, idea or sentiment between two people where the receiving party understands completely those thoughts, ideas or sentiments that the imparting party wished to transmit.

There seems to be an inherent subjectivity in all communication. When I say, "Please close the window," what I mean to communicate is "I am cold; please help me to warm up by closing the window." By giving the first phrase, I intended no miscommunication, but it demands a sensitive recipient to perceive that I am cold if I fail to contextualize my demands. This example is a simple case. The problem is subjective communication is far more general. All communication is contextual. If I am tired or exasperated, my relations with other people may deteriorate because I do not have the patience and grace to speak accurately to them. "Accurate" is a cold and academic way of saying to speak peaceably and with understanding, making allowances for the other person's context and my own. Such communication is ideal, especially when both parties engage each other with this kind of understanding.

By context, I mean the physical, emotional and spiritual circumstances. I use these three categories, separating the emotional from the spiritual, because emotions are primal passions and sentiments, while into the spiritual category I place things like the will, as well as mental health and stability. I suppose I could have used the term psychical instead of spiritual, but that would preclude the religious aspect personal context, and for me this aspect can be especially important.

In speaking with other people, especially those I am close to, I wish to understand not only what they say, but why they say such things--that is, I wish to know their context. Language, I am learning, is a beautiful thing, but with very real limitations. Raw data is easy to transmit via language. The recitation of facts ("I am 6 feet tall") poses no challenge. But humans are complicated and most of our intellectual and emotional struggles deal with the abstract. If my soul is tormented, why? I can rarely communicate the answer to this question even to myself, when words are not required. If I am deeply in love with another person, how to I make that love known to them? And will I be satisfied, even if they understand that I love them, knowing that I could not fully express the extent of that love? And even if they did, how could they confirm their comprehension, so as to set my mind at ease?

Empathy might achieve the kind of communication that I desire. I might suggest to define empathy as "humbly submitting one's spirit to knowing that of another." In the relationship I have with my fiancée, I agonize to know her fully. I want to search her heart and mind, never with the intention to exploit, but with the intention of sharing one spirit. This is humanly impossible. More selfishly, I desire for her to know me and accept me as we know each other better. This is understandable, but also connected to our human insecurity.

I am comforted that with the full range of communicative possibilities, which surpasses language to include empathetic silence, presence, body language, intuition, physical intimacy, and steadfast commitment over many years, it is possible to probe the infinite depth of another person's character over time, and share one's own with them. I am also comforted that such a relationship with our Creator is promised throughout the Christian Scriptures and is in fact the stated goal in the Gospels. So there is my spiritual context.

This subject is still so much broader, but addresses a very human need: our need to be known, and once known, accepted. Perhaps we can accept this need with humility and with our limited abilities still strive to do our best to seek each other out in love, both for their benefit and our own.

2008-08-20T20:19:00.000-07:00

I'm loading up my minivan with boxes, looking at my empty room, remembering the smiles of all my friends. Nostalgia...

2008-08-08T19:21:00.000-07:00

Slowly but surely, things are getting done.
Yes, I do realize that we are a year in advance.
I just don't want to have to deal with all this stuff during my first year of med school.
Website? check
Reception hall? check
Photographers? check
Honeymoon? check
Wedding gown? check
Bridesmaids dresses? check
Church? check
Flowers? half-check...sort of...
Invitations are in the works still. Will be for quite a while I guess. Catering...I don't even want to think about. It's a whole headache unto itself and I've realized that I'm quite disinterested in food. Or indifferent.
I'm also busy packing, arranging furniture, cleaning out my room in my parent's house, getting ready for the move to Hamilton where I'll be starting med school at McMaster. I finally got my CPR certification for Health Care Practitioners, went through all the necessary vaccinations and bloodwork, leased an apartment.
Sometimes I feel like my life is becoming so radically different so quickly and I don't know what to do about it. Being an MD in 3 years? Don't I need at least like...forever?
I got a nice-smelling Lush package in the mail yesterday from my fiancé. Smells like sandalwood and joy. I think I'm going to go use it.

2008-08-07T16:10:00.001-07:00

Got one complaint today from my brother about the wedding website being slow. I've experienced some sluggishness as well. If you are experiencing these issues, we apologize. I hope that they smooth out soon, but they are beyond my control.

2008-08-03T10:11:00.000-07:00

Sheila and I finished most of the work on our wedding-related website last night. After she went to bed, I stayed up and fixed the Montreal page. Everything should be working now. The site the first link the navbar on the right, or just click here.

2008-08-02T12:08:00.001-07:00

I thought I should add this. The picture turned out well despite poor lighting conditions.

2008-07-28T22:16:00.000-07:00

As you can see, the blog has received a bit of a renovation in appearance to reflect its new mission. Sheila and I are now engaged and began working with this blog to change it into a kind of joint enterprise. I will add my own reflections and comments with periodic contributions. My writing is distributed between this blog, which will be dedicated more towards posts concerning the two of us and our outlook, and my original blog, my Exospective, here.
I hope you like the new look. I'm not completely done modifying the style document and the graphics could potentially receive further tweaking. A few colors might change, but otherwise our new look is ready. Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions.

2008-07-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

So I am engaged. Those of you who follow my blog probably already know this and I'm not offending any of you by not personally telling you and/or giving you a play by play of the proposal. Square Victoria is now one of my favorites places in the city.
It's still kind of hard to believe that I'll be moving out in a month and never moving back in. It's still kind of hard to believe that I'm a big girl now. Of course, there have been life events that have indicated this to me: going into university, getting my undergraduate degree, getting accepted into medicine, working my first job as a health care professional, signing a lease for an apartment...but none so striking as getting engaged and moving out. Big first strides.
Working this summer though has taught me, among other things, that I'm not cut out to work in geriatrics. The constant reminder of death, the morbid conversations, seeing people who appear to have lost their souls to the ravaging disease of dementia...the nursing home is a sad sad place. I hope I never end up in a place like that. It's also a powerful reminder of the importance of relationship - the residents who have constant visits from friends and family, people who care about them...they are the most blessed.
I feel like the summer is running out on me. So many wedding preparations to take care of still, so much packing and planning to do. I am busy and the summer is disappearing.

2008-07-04T16:32:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've been delinquent in my postings. Yes, I've lost the motivation for blogging. Hopefully that'll soon change.
I signed the lease on my first "real" place a few weeks ago. A nice 2 1/2 in Hamilton right in between McMaster and the downtown core - a good distance between both. Close enough to the GO train station that it won't take me forever to commute into Toronto to travel to New York or home. Picture:

That actually looks nothing like the place that I have.
You get the idea.
So here I am flipping through IKEA catalogues and looking at AC units in the Canadian Tire flyer and looking up moving trucks online.
It's funny to think that I won't be coming back home.

2008-06-04T15:55:00.000-07:00

It was great to relax for the month of May. The free time I took after undergrad just to refresh and refuel, to spend time with my boyfriend and make exciting life decisions, was much needed. Am I copping out by blogging photos?
The month started off with a little of this:

Followed by some New Yorking:

A splendid afternoon at the Biodome:

Interspersed with quiet moments at Cafe Castel:

Fun sunny days in the park:

And of course my convocation:

And now life is settling down again. A full time job for the summer at two long-term care centers...more about my job to come.

2008-05-22T07:36:00.000-07:00

So life takes unexpected turns.

For those of you who didn't get my super-ecstatic-going-crazy email about being accepted into Mac: I'm accepted into Mac. In three years, I will have an MD from the Michael G. DeGroote School of Medicine. Just like Calvin, but without the heart-lung transplants. Exciting? Unexpected. I feel like the interview went horribly; it was the most brutal interview of the three. Twelve stations of two minute scenarios followed by eight minutes of my response to the scenario or question, speaking to an interviewer that for the most part had a blank, stony facial expression. I feel like most of the time, my answers were so inadequate or childish or naive or I just ran out of things to say. I walked out of half those interview stations with my face burning with embarrassment at how poorly I'd answered the question. Maybe I'm too hard on myself, but somewhere in there, they found something that told them I'd made a good Mac medical student.

So now I'm furniture shopping and apartment shopping and looking up uHauls and interesting places to do my clerkships. I guess what sucks the most about this program is that my summer vacation next summer is only a week long. The past month of summer vacation has been good though. It's given me time to relax and celebrate my BSc.OT, sort through my notes from the past three years of undergrad, clean out my room, have margaritas with my girlfriends and make another trip to NY. Big pluses: hanging out at Coney Island and picnicking in the park. Dinner with Noah at Room Service and shopping on 5th Ave. What wasn't as fun: packing and pushing huge blue bins full of my boyfriend's stuff down Broadway to mini-storage in the rain (don't worry hun, I don't regret coming!). Next trip to NY: weekend of June 13th with Angel.

To do now: stop procrastinating and do my laundry.

2008-04-09T10:39:00.000-07:00

So life is moving faster than I thought it was.
I used to be in awe of university students...it wasn't so long ago that I thought of them as old and wise and perfect. Now, as I'm graduating from an undergraduate degree, I smile because that is so far from the truth. Graduation parties, wine & cheeses, convocations, strawberries and champagne. Am I done with school or going back for more?
I'm wait-listed for McGill medical school, waiting until May 15th for decisions from the medical schools at Queen's and McMaster. I'm accepted into the OT Master's program at Dalhousie University and looking for a summer job as a licensed health care practitioner under the Ordre d'ergotherapeutes du Quebec.
I'm mentoring students who I can identify with because not too long ago...that was me. And I'm on the road to marriage.

Why all these thoughts on the pace of life? I found out yesterday that one of my former patients bought a plot for himself at a cemetery near his home. Morbid? Shocking. However, one of my other former patients baked chocolate, coconut and oatmeal cookies. So maybe life is still ok.

2008-03-27T16:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, you can learn very enlightening things in class.
As an occupational therapist, we're part of a professional order and have reserved activities under our professional code. These are acts that only we as OTs with licenses can perform, exclusive of all other professions. I learned today that one of these acts is included in the Fishing and Wildlife laws. This reserved act is the functional assessment of individuals with disabilities who hunt using a crossbow. I'm also entitled to assess the functional capabilities of individuals with disabilities hunting from a vehicle.
Like no one else is qualified enough to determine if some dude is safe using a crossbow. I feel so special. Who uses a crossbow nowadays anyway?
I love my profession.

2008-02-13T19:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I feel like life is like a one-way mirror.
We all know that there's more to life than what we see.
We experience it.
We feel.
Life isn't only about what we can touch.

What's on the other side? Can we ever see through this mirror? Because it seems like all we ever see is a reflection of ourselves; mankind.
On the other side seem to be opposites: good and bad, right and wrong, truth and lies, courage and faint-heartedness, hope and despair. On this other side, there seems to be opposition, outside of the fabric of our universe. Behind tangible things, such as cash, there is a plethora of forces that give it significance: greed, power, value, hope, corruption. Cash is not just cash. It affects our world politics, our socioeconomical problems, our moral values. These untouchable forces affect how we, as individuals, act and think. Without them, we would be, in a sense, robotic. They are impossible for us to grasp, or see, or even understand fully. We may feel understanding, but we cannot reason the understanding that we have. There are forces that work alongside our world, but outside and apart from it, and in it, all at the same time. Yet for their number, they are logically ordered and predictable, designed to be manipulated.

Yes, we can pretend that all that exists is what we see: ourselves. Or we can look past the reflection and acknowledge that there is something deeper and larger and more complex than anything we could imagine.

2007-11-20T18:47:00.001-08:00

So I'm back. Somewhat sporadically but here again.
I've been starting work recently at a school called Giant Steps, a school for autistic children. It's been quite the experience working with such a wide spectrum of kids, from ones that are kind of spacey and show a lot of behaviors, flinging their hands around and squealing in ear-shattering pitches, to those who are almost what you call normal until examined closely. It's made me wonder what goes on in these kids' minds, when some of them are so scrambled that they can't learn to write or toss a ball. Sometimes you can tell they're trying to please you and really want to perform well and it's adorable, but they're just so unable because some connections somewhere in their brains are not connected the right way. Some of them though, are just off in space and unable to focus on anything. My friend Noah says that these are the kids who are planning to take over the world. I laughed.
Today, I was teaching little blond Charlie to write his name. "This is boring," he says to me, "I'm going to blow up the school." And then returned to his r's. You were right bro, sorry I doubted you.
And then there are times where I'm walking around in a figure eight flapping my arms and pretending to be a duck with 4 kids following right behind me, and I really wonder what I'm doing...

2007-09-13T17:31:00.000-07:00

Here are the remainder of my pictures from California. For a complete set, go visit my album of Facebook - I've posted them all there. I cannot believe that two weeks ago, I was sitting on a beach in California. It seems surreal now, how relaxed I was, how much time I had. Now, not even two weeks into the semester, I'm running around again, like a maniac, trying to get everything done at once.

The cliffs of La Jolla. In some guidebook they described these cliffs as one of North America's great wonders or something but they aren't. They're very beautiful, granted, but not a natural wonder. In my opinion. Who knows, maybe I'm missing out on something.

Mexican Cafe in Old Town where I had lunch one day. The Mexican food was amazing, given that the place was a short 15 minute drive away from the Mexican border and the Cafe was located a few blocks away from the trolley station that provides transportation into and out of Tijuana every day. The tacos were real, 100%. I never knew I was eating fake until I have the real stuff and now, I can't eat Mexican food in Canada anymore. It just doesn't do justice.

At a port in Coronado. My friend had to take a picture of me with the big boat. Aircraft carrier or something. He was a guy, he knew what it was. I had no idea, I just stood there and smiled at the camera.

Us having fun at Coronado, San Diego skyline in the background. It was a beautiful day, as always.

On the beautiful Coronado beach with gold-speckled sand. Coronado, next to La Jolla, was the most touristy beach around. I like this picture because it wasn't taken very well and we were all unaware that the picture was being taken at all. It captures us on the beach in California that day.

My last breakfast on Pacific Beach before I went to the airport later that morning. The place was called Jordan and served very good eggs benedict. We sat and watched the joggers with their dogs go by, and the bikers in groups of two or three, or the surfer dudes with the tousled hair and the average Joe people who just enjoyed walking along the beach on a Sunday morning. I remember sitting at the table, just drinking in the sights and smells and feeling and wishing that I could stay.

It's been a long summer. Quite eventful. I started in Calgary visiting old friends and spending time with people I hadn't seen in years. I continued to Edmonton to do an internship at the Royal Alexandra hospital, meeting new friends at South Edmonton Alliance Church and getting a feel for a small Albertan city. Wandered the streets of New York, tasting all the delights that New York had to offer and had a few eye-opening experiences. Finished in California, finding rest on the sunny beaches and good conversations with an old mentor.
I wish I could say that the summer was perfect. It wasn't. Many things went wrong. There is nothing like traveling alone that makes you realize your own inadequacies. I realized all of mine and more. I started off the summer confident in myself, feeling like I could conquer the world and completed the summer humbled and a little bit wiser, but unfortunately also a little more jaded. I learned more than I could ever describe in this blog and I'm so thankful I had the opportunity to travel for the past three months. If I may, I'm going to leave a few of my "lessons learned" for you guys.
1) Take risks. Usually, it's worth it - the reward outweighs the risk and the fun outweighs both. Life is for living, not for sitting and twiddling thumbs.
2) Acts of friendship and hospitality are the greatest gifts you can give someone. Having been received warmly by both old friends and strangers and feeling welcome in every city I visited, I can say that I am indescribably grateful to everyone I passed along the way.
3) Always wear sunscreen. No kidding. My back is three different colors of burnt to prove it.

Thus concludes my summer blogging. As the semester rolls on, I will blog seldom, if ever. See you again in November or December...

2007-08-30T10:29:00.000-07:00

More pictures of beautiful, sunny California.
I love how it's always sunshiney here. How it's always hot but at a perfect temperature when the ocean breeze comes through. I love how palm trees just grow on the side of the road and the houses that sit on the mesas look like they've been weathered to become part of the cliffs.

Visit to Old Town, San Diego. Huge Mexican influence there. Lots of Spanish on the streets, Mexican-influenced architecture, Mexican cafes on every block. The tacos were amazing. After this, I can't go back to Three Amigos or Carlos and Pepes...Now I know what real Mexican is like.

Did some wandering amidst the street vendors and old-style shops that lined the streets. Fascinating things - I wish I could take it all home with me.

My friends took me to a driving range. I learned to golf for the first time and found out it took a lot more precision and positioning than I first thought. Very much fun though - I can understand why people enjoy it very much. As the sun set and the sky turned dark purple, it got easier to spot my balls as they flew out to midfield.

I had to take a picture of the mustang convertible that we zipped around in. I love this car. I love the grey sleekness of it and how the wind hits my face as we fly down the freeways.

Pelicans. Funny-looking things they are.

Inside a cave at La Jolla.

Sea anemones. Cute, interesting little things. I sat on the sea-carved rocks all day that day and watched as the anemones closed up when the tiny sand crabs scuttled over them. Listened to the waves crashing onto the rocks, saw the long, deep green seaweed breathe in and out with the tide, felt the salty sea breeze. Sat there and watched the sparkling ocean disappear into the horizon.
And of course, while I was at it I evened out my tan.

Got just a little wet splashing around in the waves.

If I had a choice, I'd stay here. For a long time...or at least until I had the luxury of calling all these things "normal".

2007-08-27T20:07:00.001-07:00

I found out where I'll be living once I move out.
People say California is great - they never say it's this idyllic. Cruising down the No. 8 freeway last night in a convertible with the top down, the wind in my face, the radio cranked up, the sun setting just over the palm trees turning the sky pink and orange, the sandy adobe mexican-style houses lining the hills, I realized that this is where, if at all possible, I'd like to end up.

Pacific Beach, the "college beach". Not so busy today. It was sunny and hot but the cool ocean breeze kept the temperature perfect. The deep blue ocean just stretches out into the horizon.

We went to Tijuana, Mexico last night. We didn't spend that much time there - just walked down the Strip, had a few drinks, wandered through the quiet streets and then crossed back over the border. TJ is only a half hour drive from San Diego but exists a world apart. There's a dangerous edge about the place. Taxi drivers that hound you for a few dollars. Fights that break out on the streets. If you don't keep an eye on your drink you don't know what will end up in it. However it did have some exotic charm to it and the tequila was something to remember.

Good old Archstone. This is where I'm staying with my friend. Outdoor walkways that enter into luxurious apartments, heated pool and hot tub, palm trees that arch through skylights in corridors.

Fashion Valley Mall. It's beautiful - an outdoor mall. It's like a regular mall, just without a roof. The food court is on the second level in the open air and the Mexican architecture of mundane stores like Macy's or JCPenny gives everything a certain flair.

Trying to do cartwheels on the beach.
Woops.

Woops.

Yay!

Mmm....this is definitely the way to end my summer. I could not have done better. Except maybe Fiji...

2007-08-26T15:12:00.000-07:00

Some final pictures of New York City. One week was not enough to see everything I wanted to see but at the same time, Manhattan was overwhelming and noisy and crowded and I can say I'm a bit relieved to be out of a big city. Not that I'm not in a big city now - San Diego's pretty big - but it's a way different feel. Everything's a little more relaxed here. The smoggy Manhattan air too was not one of my favorite things about the city. I did, however, have quite a few adventures.

Going apartment shopping with my friend Tim one day, I realized how expensive living in Manhattan really was. Places we saw like the one pictured above, a small 1 1/2 that was visibly layered over with multiple coats of paint still cost circa $1700/month. No air conditioning, countertop and mini-fridge along the wall at the other side of the main room and bathroom so small that if you sat on the toilet you could still wash your hands at the sink. Needless to say, I was appalled and vowed never to call anything in Montreal "expensive" again. Compared to this, the 4 1/2 I had last summer for $1300 was deluxe.

I love ferryboats. The feeling of motion, the wind running through my hair, the sights, the smells. I could have taken that ferry back and forth from Staten Island for the entire day.

My (hopefully) future school, although I still maintain that I'd love to go to school in California. Advantage of schooling in NYC: networking. Lots and lots of connections. According to a very successful Wall Street broker I know, today's world is not about Ivy League education, it's about connections. T/F?

Shopping in Chinatown. Dirty, crowded, the briney smell of fish and crab wafting up from every tank and bucket placed on the street to sell. Old men still spitting on the street like they do in China so you need to watch your step. Little puddles of questionable murky water streetside. Food was pretty good but Manhattan's Chinatown is not the greatest Chinatown I've been to.

A hint of tropical paradise by Rockfeller center. The conglomeration of tourists and the trendy side boutiques gave this place a very festive atmosphere. Beware of walking into other people's photos.

Trump tower. 'Nuff said.
I wonder how logical it is to put trees halfway up a building. The green goes very well with the Gucci ad in red though. However strange, New York is unfailingly fashionable.

Coney Island. I took the Wonder Wheel - the huge ferris wheel in the amusement park - all the way to the top. Although the sticky humidity was very bad that day, nothing can go wrong when I'm on a ferris wheel. Along with ferryboats, it's another favorite of mine. When I went down, the boardwalk and beach were relatively empty because it was getting late, the sun was setting and all the tourist families were headed back to the City. Plenty of locals were around though, hanging out on the boardwalk and fishing on the pier. It would have been very beautiful if the rotting smell of fish guts on the pier didn't make my stomach turn. Needless to say, I retreated fairly quickly back to the boardwalk and then since it was getting dark, the D train back to Manhattan.
Sadly, I have yet to comment on the Manhattan night life since I've still got 3 months till I'm 21, the legal age in the States.

I just landed at the San Diego Airport a few hours ago. It was a really rough night. I vowed never again to fly earlier than 10AM. My flight was at 6:35AM this morning. The waiting around the airports and flying when exhausted was definitely not very fun. Got very little and sporadic sleep. Pikka (an old friend and mentor of mine) is sleeping. I think she may have the right idea.
More updates to follow.

2007-08-22T19:10:00.001-07:00

Having fun in New York!

Spent half a day at the Cloisters, an awakening to all my little girl fairy tale fantasies of Medieval castles and chasing unicorns. The weathered stones of the old chapels ground you and give you a deep sense of peace in your heart.

Subway stations here make Guy Concordia metro look cushy. Very, very sketchy.

Bunches of fenced off lush green spaces - private parks. Small little oases in an urban jungle.

One of the many colorful murals in East Village.

New York reminds me a bit of Montreal. After having spent the last 2 months in the small cities of Alberta where the one mall downtown doesn't open past 5 pm and Starbucks downtown closes at 4 pm, where free public wireless doesn't exist and nothing is really within walking distance, New York is a haven. With the 24-hour restaurants and the wireless internet access in every cafe, the extensive subway system and people outside at all hours of the day, this place is what I've been missing all summer. I never thought of myself as a big city girl but maybe I miss the amenities that a big city offers. Even growing up going to backcountry ranches and the outcountry mountains, I wonder if maybe I'm just a city girl at heart.

2007-08-18T10:26:00.000-07:00

Sitting in my room in Edmonton, waiting for my friend James to come pick me up and drive me to the Greyhound station.
Soon I'll be sitting on the bus, watching the Alberta landscape whirr by as I travel back to Calgary.
Sometimes it seems that that's what life does. You sit and watch and it just whirrs by as you press your nose against the glass and leave patches of cloudy vapour. Soon the greens and yellows and oranges and blues kind of blur together until nothing is really distinguishable. It seems like the past six weeks went by in a blur. Six weeks of long bus rides and cups of coffee and long rounds and wound evaluations and cognitive assessments and wheelchair adjustments, of walking down Whyte Ave. and shopping at West Edmonton Mall and hanging out with friends and eating out and playing volleyball...
After working in hospitals where death is not uncommon and having two of my childhood friends pass away over the past year the question always comes up of whether we're just living and living and living until we die. Do we just see just see life whirr by through a window? What does it mean to "live a full life"? That's always the phrase that's tossed around, isn't it? If C.S. Lewis is right, and all men are immortal, then there must be more to it than just living. If we believe there is an eternity, we must act accordingly.

2007-08-11T19:44:00.000-07:00

I'm tempted to write a semi-end of summer post since it seems like summer is quickly drawing to a close but let's not get too hasty. There is still three weeks of glorious vacation. Or time spent away from school anyway.
I had to go to work today. Which would have been very upsetting if I hadn't met the greatest guy today at the hospital. He has this twinkle to his eye, even when he's sitting still, which speaks volumes about a mischievous personality. He's never allowed to cause mischief of course - hospitals are very serious places - but I can imagine the type of trouble he would get into given the chance. Most of the time, he's slow to speak but only because he's formulating the type of idea and phrase that will leave you amazed and a little caught off guard. He moves with real dignity even though he has a slouch to his shoulders that seem almost casual. His ankle gets swollen sometimes from poor circulation so I wrapped it for him today and the warmth of his thanks made me feel like a little bit of sunshine had broken through the rainy clouds outside. He has deep laugh lines on his face and few of those wrinkles that represent a frown. He loves cookies but he has a lot of trouble with them because he's missing more than a few teeth. I like the color of his hair: a clear, snowy white. His grandchildren come visit sometimes and they've got the same blue-green eyes that he does. He astonishes me with his age; he's turning 100 years old next week.

2007-08-04T20:33:00.000-07:00

What do you do when you know you can't prevent a horrible mistake?
Mr. P has a sore on his heel. Sores often develop on bony prominences like over the calcaneus bone of the heel, the lateral malleolus of the ankle, the sacral and coccygeal prominences on the lower back...because of pressure. Capillaries are tiny blood vessels that supply nutrients and oxygen to muscles and nerves. These vessels can be occluded by a pressure greater that 32 mmHg and if that pressure is constant, muscles and nerves necrose (die) from lack of oxygen and nutrients. In healthy people, this is prevented by weight shifting, mobility and our intact sensation that tells us when we need to stand (like over a long car ride). In the sick and elderly, all this is impaired, resulting in cell death in parts of the body where circulation is cut off.
Pressure can be relieved in other ways, like with frequent repositioning done by the nurses and pressure relief surfaces such as air mattresses, gel cushions and medical grade sheepskin.
Mr. P is also a diabetic, which indicates poor circulation at baseline.
Mr. P is not allowing us to treat the necrosing flesh on his heel. If not treated and if the sore opens up further and is infected, he could require a below-knee amputation.
As health care professionals, we are bound by the hippocratic oath to always do good and never do harm. We are also bound by a stipulation of practice that the patient must agree to all treatment and we must practice with a client-centred approach. We cannot force him to accept treatment, can we? Is the decision really his? It's hard to convince this man, fifty years my senior, that I can treat his rotting foot.

2007-07-28T18:47:00.000-07:00

There is a rhyme that is hung over the sink at work. It's quite poetic and has been stuck in my head all week. It goes like this:

I wish I were a glow worm
A glow worm's never glum
'Cause how can you be grumpy
When the sun shines out your bum

I wonder which mad doctor or nurse put it there...

2007-07-23T16:55:00.000-07:00

You can't always believe what you hear.
I've heard from numerous sources that Edmonton is a boring, quiet, little city in Northern Alberta with nothing much to do and nothing much going on.
My response?
Far from the truth.
I'm starting to learn about Edmonton and everything I learn brings me farther and farther away from that truth. First of all, no one in Montreal, the supposedly "sinful city", has ever asked me to smoke weed with them. Well no, there was that one time on St. Catherine's Street East...but that's a bad neighborhood. And the guy offered to sell me weed, not share a joint with me. This occurrence, in Edmonton, happened in a quiet suburb close to the University of Alberta.
I had to get that out of the way first.
Now, on to other things. Besides having drunkards in the suburbs yelling at 2 am. and this being supposedly the "Murder Capital of Canada" and there having just been a fire involving a whole new suburban development and guys throwing burning sofa cushions into hallways of apartment buildings...it's a fairly nice little city.
West Edmonton Mall is a whole mecca of things unimaginable. Everything one needs is in that mall. Lodging, food, entertainment, shopping...oh the shopping. The sales have persuaded me to buy a large number of quite useful articles like shoes and shirts and more shirts and some shoes...and a bag...I've seen the sea lion show and the flamingos preening and had a lovely White Peach Bellini at Moxie's. I even hear there's a penguin on the premises although that may be just a rumor.
The tastes of Edmonton festival is still going on where almost forty restaurants from all over Edmonton set up tents in a downtown square and sell small samples of food. The point I guess is to be able to sample food from all these different restaurants without having to actually visit the places for dinner. My #1 favorite dish would have been the Stuffed Mushrooms with 3 Cheeses and Tarragon Sauce from The Gas Pump. #2: Butternut Squash and Maple Soup from Mayfield Inn and Suites. It was buttery and creamy and wonderful. There were other things. Scones with whipped cream and berry sauce with strawberries, lobster and shrimp rotini, frozen chocolate dipped banana, cheese empanadas, jambalayas, tandoori chicken, bacon wrapped scallops, the list goes on and on.
I could talk about the Capital Ex festival and Whyte Ave. and the Muttart Conservatory but for now, this is enough blogging.

Change of travel plans:
Greyhound from Edmonton on August 18th to Calgary.
Catch flight out of Calgary International Airport on 20th to La Guardia International Airport, New York City.
Flight from Newark Liberty Airport, New Jersey on August 26th to San Diego International Airport via stopover in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Flight from San Diego International Airport on September 2nd to Pierre Elliot Trudeau International Airport, Montreal via stopover in Washington DC.

I can't wait to catch some beach time during my week in California.

2007-07-18T21:07:00.000-07:00

You're in a better place, I've heard a thousand times
And at least a thousand times I've rejoiced for you
But the reason why I'm broken, the reason why I cry
Is how long must I wait to be with you

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now

Help me Lord cause I don't understand your ways
The reason why I wonder if I'll ever know
But, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same
Cause I'm still here so far away from home

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now

In Christ, there are no goodbye
And in Christ, there is no end
So I'll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
To see you again
To see you again

And I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow

I've never been more homesick than now

James: my "twin"! We always celebrated birthdays together. And played with Lego! I know you don't remember the Mickey Mouse cake we had one year when I was 4 years old and you were 2 but that's the one I remember the most. I bought your mom a pretty "feel better card".
Nathan, you'd throw erasers at me in Sunday School but you were never as mean or as childish as the others. You've got quite a fan club on Facebook going.
Like it says in the song, in Christ, there is no end.
I'll see you guys again someday...but also praying that there'll be no erasers in heaven.

2007-07-16T16:40:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, it's hard to tell what people are thinking.
Such is the case on Unit 41 where I work periodically where people have sustained TBIs (Traumatic Brain Injuries). Because the brain is the main control center for the rest of the body, differential damage to the brain will have varied effects. Some people lose their ability to coordinate movements, some to recognize colors and shapes, some to understand speech. My scariest (and most interesting I guess) patients are those who have sustained damage to the frontal lobe of the brain. The frontal lobe is the area that houses your "personality" if you will. Those who have compromised frontal lobes can still function perfectly fine in a very practical sense but will be overly aggressive, or disinhibited, or will burst into tears at the slightest emotion, or be completely blank. They may crack inappropriate jokes or be completely rude when they were the sweetest, most reserved people before the accident.
Mrs. S scared me today. I was walking down the empty hallway when she popped out of the door of her room and tried to grab my arm. It was the look on her face, and maybe that glint in her eye, that made me quite uneasy so I pulled away and started walking toward the nursing station, hoping that someone would be around. She followed me and as I sped up, so did she until I was speed-walking and she was jogging after me down this eerie empty hall. I was afraid she was going to run faster and hit me and I heard her grunting noises behind me and to the left (because she didn't talk) as she came after me. Needless to say, I was gasping with relief when our security guard appeared and came around to grab her.
And now, even when I'm downtown, I jump every time someone comes too close to me.
I really need to ask for a panic button.

2007-07-11T19:06:00.000-07:00

I saw something completely ridiculous today.
A man, sitting outside the hospital doors with nose prongs on (that's the little clear oxygen tube you see on TV all the time) and hooked up to an oxygen tank...smoking. I could not believe my eyes. First of all, the fact that he needs oxygen means he can't breathe. Secondly, oxygen is flammable. I spent the rest of the afternoon ventilating.

For all you Grey's Anatomy fans, I'm working at a prettier hospital than Seattle Grace.

The Royal Alexandra Hospital. A teaching hospital with 678 beds and the region's largest medical and surgical health facility, performing over 28 000 surgical procedures anually and employing over 4 800 staff.

Houses an indoor garden with sunroof right beside the nursing wards so that patients' rooms (to the right) overlook greenery and the beautiful architecture.

From the 2nd floor looking down the center space to the lobby area and food court in the basement. I was tempted to drop something from the 6th floor just to see it splatter...kidding.

Walking down the surgical wing, all the stretchers neatly lined up on the side with the indoor garden to the right. First door on the left is the on-call room. Comfy couches, big screen plasma TV, fridge...
Eat that Meredith Grey.

2007-07-09T19:16:00.000-07:00

Nostalgia.
It's like drinking this sweet and bitter potion that both tingles and burns all the way down. It's like putting three paper boats into the Bow River and watching the swells and the current carry them downstream until they disappear from sight, wondering what will happen to them and where they'll end up.
We had a Burning Bush grads of 2001 reunion the other day (meaning old friends I hadn't seen for 4 or 6 years) and it was...surprising. Oftentimes these reunion things are at the very best awkward shadows of past friendships but this one was intimate and funny and interesting and fruitful. The hours flew by and suddenly it was 2 in the morning before we all started from this eerie reverie we'd all fallen into. It seemed like everyone had grown up a little but...but at the same time it seemed like absolutely no time had passed by. It was like we were 14 years old again - Helina was laughing at Kim and Jon trading biting comments while Dan made the occaisional dry remark, taking pictures of our feet and hands and Kim's citronella candles and making weird faces and spraying bug spray on each other and...in the candles...and generally acting no different than we had with each other many years ago. Talking about the crazy random and dangerous things we'd done as preteens and reminiscing about the events we'd planned and the emails we'd traded. Spreading brie on bread with our fingers and kicking each other under the table. We'd all backslided into the past and came out with something different.
Why is it so hard to escape from the past? Is it because we romanticize everything and picture it as more perfect than it really was? Or does life really start beautifully and go downhill from there?
Jon said that nostalgia had a purpose. If so, what is it?

2007-06-30T20:11:00.001-07:00

This is for Joelle's comment that Calgary doesn't have any cows...or whatever it was that you said over facebook, Cheese.

Purple cow!

Bart Simpson cow.

Alberta landscape cow

HOLEY COW!!
It's not called cowtown for nuthin'.
I heart Alberta beef.

2007-06-27T21:04:00.000-07:00

Kananaskis, I've come home.
I've really missed seeing the Rockies and yesterday's horseback adventure ride into the mountains was beautiful and so...adventurous. We ended up at an altitude of 4060 ft. It's never felt this good, cantering through alpine meadows and racing through forests when you don't know where the next tree branch is coming from (ok so the second was not so smart...). At one point my ribs hit straight into a branch - luckily the rotten wood gave way before I did. A punctured lung would not have been quite as much fun. My horse, Nebraska, got little too excited and started doing some hopping and bucking midway through one of our meadow races. Needless to say, we lost pretty badly. He went skittering again when he spooked at a piece of tarp that was blowing in the wind. Silly monkey. We also got a little soaking wet (a little? soaking wet?) splashing around in Three Points River. We got halfway across when some genius decided to flick some water around. I'll spare you the details but it got COLD. We all learned that being wet in mountain air was not so fun. We ran into a few bear tracks, but old ones (we hoped), hopped a few fallen logs...oh almost cracked my head open jumping over a log when I didn't see the other tree a bit above it. I'm never playing a game of follow-the-leader ever again. Although the other "leader" didn't do so well either. She led us through a bog as a "shortcut" where we ended up sinking in almost to the horse's belly. The mud and guck was so deep, our feet were grazing the ground. We were jokingly throwing around the idea of tying a rope to each horse and rider so that if one of us disappeared, we'd be able to pull them out. Don't know how feasible that would have been. All that fun comes with a price though. I was so sore this morning I could barely get out of bed. I was moving in slow motion all day because my muscles were screaming at all the hard riding I'd done the day before. Was it worth it? Definitely.

Breathtaking scenery, although Nevada was unsure about the hill we were standing on. He was asking me why I was walking him off a cliff...

One of the meadows we were racing through, pockmarked with gopher holes. The big tree on the far right was one of them I almost killed myself on. They just kind of pop out of nowhere...
My mother would kill me if she knew what I was up to.

Relaxing for lunch on a sunny hillside, after which we climbed the mountain in front of us.

A photo of accomplishment. We almost made it to the top of that mountain. Wish we'd packed some rock-climbing equipment!

Nevada's also taking in the great view.

Going down was twice as rough as going up. At one point it got so steep and slippery with so much shale that we had to get off and lead the horses down the trail. At the end, I felt like a nice hot tub and a good massage.
What a day...

2007-06-25T19:27:00.000-07:00

Coming into Alberta. The crazy weather is partly due to the clouds that blow over the Rockies.

At Ken's place on Friday night. He has one of those sinks that looks like a glass bowl and sits on top of the bathroom counter. Such a nice place.

Their version of "24 heures" with a nicer Sudoku page. I think Billy would have the most appreciation for this.

Just messing around. Jon's trying to push us over and Mel's kinda looking a little confused...

Going out to horseback ride in the mountains tomorrow. Having a blast!

2007-06-23T22:47:00.000-07:00

It's interesting to be back in cowtown again. There's not so much "cow" in the "town" anymore, nor is it even really a "town" anymore. It has grown a little more metropolitan. A little more diverse. There are mixed feelings. I feel like I've never left, like things are exactly the same. Yet, so much as happened that I feel like entire worlds have passed me by. I'm still trying to reconcile these paradoxical sentiments.
I think the thing I've missed most about Calgary are the people, how friendly they are. It's so comforting once again to be able to have a long conversation with a complete stranger in the drug store or, like on Thursday, with the owner of a jewelery store. I'd noticed that he was playing a Christian radio station (yes, they have those here) over the speakers in his store and we spent the next half hour talking about the Christian faith and what it meant to us. The bus drivers are so jolly and wish everyone a nice day. The sales clerks are genuinely friendly and make small talk about things other than whatever they're selling. Calgary is beautiful in its people.
I played beach volleyball in Millenium Park with a bunch of friends today, in a rainshower. Another unique feature of Calgary: living at the foot of the Rockies does things to the weather. It was hot and dry yesterday, desert weather. Then today sunny but cold, sweater weather. And a random cloud had decided to cover only the downtown area where we were playing volleyball so amidst a big blue sky the one dark cloud was raining on our game.
It feels so familiar to be sitting in small group with old friends yet so disconcerting to be caught up on the change that has taken place. The marriages and disappearances and breakups and makeups and all the drama that has gone on over the last four years. It's good to be walking downtown where the people are relaxed and laid back with a ready smile on their faces.
It's good to be back.

2007-06-17T15:00:00.000-07:00

Barbeques (or as Selig says, “bee bee cues”) are the lifeblood of summer. Great weather, delicious food, good company, they are the epitome of what summer is. Such was the one last night with amazing fruit salad and sausages, sporatic games of basketball and badminton, satisfying conversations, random revelations and a lot of laughter. As the sun set and the citronella candles were coming out because the mosquitoes had started biting, I was getting ready to head home. Unexpectedly, my friend Angel told me that two of my guy friends, Posner and Amos, were taking me home; Amos was already jangling his car keys and heading toward the driveway. It wasn’t as much their chivalrous manner that made an impression on me but the simple act of kindness because I knew that they were heading right back to the BBQ.

Acts of kindness are interesting things. It’s like catching a glimpse of a rare bird in the deep forest. A flash of bright plumage, a gasp of wonder and it’s gone. It seems like they are a dying breed, as we watch on the news all the wars, bomb scares, school shootings, homicides, suicides, and petty court trials that are deep-seated in our culture. A culture that seems to be getting colder over the years. A gentle word, a brief touch, a kind action warms the heart in a powerful way. The love that fuels these acts of kindness, like a simple candle, does not diminish or extinguish by passing on its flame and indeed, as more candles are lighted, the world gets that much more luminous.

Light a candle today.

2007-06-14T11:42:00.000-07:00

There are some summer days that are made for the picture frame.
Yesterday was one of those days. Not that we did anything exceptionally special. All we did was sit on a faded blue towel on the grassy waterfront in the Old Port in Montreal and have take-out lunch, joke around and strum some tunes on my guitar. We tanned, we made random comments, we watched the people biking, rollerblading, walking, listened to the teenagers behind us laughing and chasing each other with water. It was a combination of the sunny, cloudless day, idle ambiance and company of good friends that made it so golden.
Don't we chase after this in life sometimes? Or all the time? Isn't this what the American Dream is about? Being happy? I'm not going to write about something that's already been written about in Mikhail's Exospective. As my good friend so eloquently stated, "here is nothing and there is something". We can't make those Kodak moments last for longer than they do. We may forget about them a month, a week, or even a day after. I've discovered that happiness doesn't live here in this world we inhabit. It's not something that can be tasted or called upon but something that comes from elsewhere. And if we contend that heaven is imbued with happiness then we agree that we taste heaven when we are truly happy. So, then, I often find myself re-examining the priorities that our culture has impressed upon me and reject the way of thinking into which I've been assimilated.
Maybe we try too hard to find happiness in a place where it cannot be found. Maybe we need to start looking elsewhere and believing that it lies there.

2007-06-08T13:19:00.000-07:00

Hospitals are kind of like washing machines. Everyone goes through the cycle sometime, some less frequent than others, all in hopes of coming out clean. Some are a quick in-and-out job, just a spin and dry cycle. Some get the whole works, the bleaching, the rinsing, the fabric softener. Some come out looking different than when they went in. A bleach mark here, a stretch mark there. And some of them get lost in the machine, never really making it out.
I wish it were as simple as that...but human lives are never really simple. There are too many factors to consider, many of them non-tangible. Psychological. Social. Spiritual. On this last day of internship at the Royal Vic, I reflect on the past six weeks with a fair amount of nostalgia because, even though losing patients has been hard, making a life-changing impact on a person's life resounds deeply within the human heart. Everything happens in hospitals. The mundane, the funny, the crazy, where people "get hearts" and "change kidneys"; birth, life, death. Some things take a long time to happen. Some things happen within the time it takes to blink an eye. I'm glad that I've confirmed my calling to myself. This is where I want to be.

Cute ER intern brought me coffee this morning. I never gave him my phone number.

Summer
begins
now.

2007-06-06T14:54:00.000-07:00

ER is still utter mayhem.
Crazy-Vietnamese-lady on a stretcher in the hallway was screaming all day...in Vietnamese. Meanwhile, I was trying to ambulate not-so-small-Greek-lady. This Greek lady had come in for intractable left knee, hip and lower back pain and so I needed to get her to walk to determine if she needed to be admitted or if she could go home with some morphine and extra help from the CLSC. Then Greek lady started yelling because excruciating pain would shoot up her leg every time she bent it (bending legs is required in walking) so I was starting to go deaf. I put the lady back into her stretcher, which was not easy because of her not-so-small-ness, did the paperwork (recommending admission) and went to find some sanctity in a linen closet. Where I bumped into cute-ER-intern. He was also hiding from the zoo that was ER so we settled among the isolation gowns and washcloths to have a chat. Which is where uptight-Indian-nurse found us a few minutes later. And now she started on whatever Indian niceties were in her vocabulary. He went back to doing his new consult, I went back to doing mine. Who says the hospital isn't a multicultural experience?
On a more unfortunate tack, a girl was rushed to ER today with a subdural hematoma. Only 19 years old and had just given birth. Sometimes this happens. When the abdominal muscles are contracted, pressure increases in the veins. During contractions in labour the increase in blood pressure in the brain can burst a small blood vessel, causing a bleed, which accumulates and presses on the sensitive and soft brain tissue, damaging it. The CT head on her showed the hematoma to be cerebellar, where muscle movements are controlled in the brain. Muscle movements include those involved in respiration, heartbeat and gut function. Crash cart has been sitting beside her bed all day. Newborn's in neonatal care. I hope she lives.

2007-06-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

Flight to Calgary: Thursday June 21st, 9:30 am

TBD road trip to Kelowna, Vancouver, Richmond, Surrey, Coquitlam, Nanaimo, Tsawwassen, Salt Spring Island

Greyhound to Edmonton Sunday July 8th

Internship in Edmonton (Capital Care Norwood, Royal Alexandria Hospital): Monday July 9th - Friday August 17th

Post-internship relaxation (tentative): NY Sunday August 19th-Sunday August 26th. Puerto Rico Monday August 27th-Thursday August 30th

2007-05-31T14:12:00.000-07:00

I feel like this story needs a visual demonstration.
Picture this: very small, very cute hippie lady sitting in a bed in the ICU. She's chugging down chocolate pudding, I'm standing next to her with the suction tube, pulling all of it out of her tracheostomy tube. Ok not such a pretty picture. But now you understand what aspiration is. Instead of going the right way, into the esophagus, it goes forward the wrong way, into the windpipe. And if they have a trach in, I end up pulling it all out of their windpipe before it falls into the lungs and rots.

Here's a prettier picture.
This is Gus. Gus has been living inside my/Sam's cupboard for the past few months. Sam, look how Gus has grown! I'm actually so busy gawking at your mutant onions that I've forgotten to water your real plant. Don't worry, it's not dead yet.

2007-05-29T14:41:00.000-07:00

I was right. Unfortunately.
All hell broke loose in the ER; this week is going to be a busy one. We coded purple today: no new admittances to emergency because all beds were full and all staff, including on-call, were working. It was mayhem. There were codes called every other hour, either cardiac arrest or respiratory failure. The rotation through the rescue bays were brisk.
Sadly, it was the chaplain who was the most busy, praying over and comforting families who were shocked and in grief from sudden and unforseen tragedy. In ER, this is the reality. People do die and we need to be ready to move right on to the next patient.
I felt stuck at one point during this day. Stuck on a patient who seemed to be perfectly fine, who'd walked into the ER with his coat over one arm. A little apprehensive-looking but walking erect and hadn't come in on a stretcher. So given the present circumstances in Emergency, you can understand the slight frustration I had in encountering this patient. Frustration especially at attending physician who had written me the consult. His chief complaint was completely ridiculous: he complained of choking on milk in the middle of the night. No other complains. No pain, no trouble eating during the day, nothing. I almost left him right there in the examining room. I ran through my history-taking interview, did my routine checks, tried all food consistencies (even milk!) on him: no coughing, no choking, no voice change. By then I felt like I was wasting my time doing absolutely nothing with the perfectly healthy-looking man. Just for kicks I decided to do a test in radiology, a modified barium swallow, before I wrote up the paperwork to discharge him. I ran to the attending MD, did some mad venting, then got the requisition and ran the test.
And I found a hernia. A paraesophageal hernia of the stomach that his stomach acid was refluxing into. Apply some pressure, get a rupture and the gastic acid would have filled the abdominal cavity, leading to damage of major organs and even death.
He's going for surgery tomorrow.

Moral of the story: Patience, thorough clinical care, and go to ER when you're choking on milk in the middle of the night.

2007-05-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

Things feel strange this week.
ER is eerily calm. The beds in the hallway are empty. The rescue bays are empty. Subacute is quiet. The only patients I had consults for today were a left leg hematoma and a chronic ALS (amyotropic lateral sclerosis) patient being transferred to MNI (Montreal Neurological Institute).
ICU is not much different. Quick in and out problems that resolve themselves. Beds are empty.
Two patients coded on the floor today. Crash carts came in and out. One lived, one didn't. Otherwise, the floor was silent.
I'm getting a feeling of "inquietitude", like this is the calm before the storm.
Something is about to happen.

2007-05-17T19:42:00.001-07:00

Often, things are not as they seem.
As an OT, one of my responsibilites is to make sure my patients can swallow their food and their meds and that all this goes down the right tube and into the stomach. We look for the telltale signs of aspiration, or food going into the lungs, such as coughing, voice change, and lack of a swallow reflex. We then proceed to make recommendations based on our observations. Too much food going down the wrong way, into the lungs, and that'll cause necrosis, granulation of lung tisse or infection (pneumonia).
However, people can be silent aspirators and this is where it gets complicated. Some people, because of decreased sensation or cognition, don't cough or choke on their food as it slides into their lungs and show no signs of aspiration. These are people who inhale their food, literally. As was the case with one of my patients this afternoon.
I don't know what tipped me off but for some reason, some suspicion, I requested a test in radiology for this patient. As I said, he ate well, but something rubbed me the wrong way. As soon as the test began, my eyes were glued to the screen in utter amazement as half of whatever he swallowed travelled into his windpipe and down to his lungs. Swallow after swallow, half into the stomach, half into the lungs; it was like he was drowning in his food. And of course, there he was, sitting amicably in the testing cubicle, happily eating away. It was the hardest thing to tell the patient and his family that his food was going into his lungs and not his stomach and that we'd have to put a tube in him to feed him.
So many times, things are not what they seem.

2007-05-14T14:11:00.000-07:00

Work today was busy, and I was getting irritated because...well there's so much to do and not enough time. And people were not always the most polite but considering some of them work 18 hour shifts, I guess that could be excused. I also get very grumpy when I'm tired. My own temper was starting to rise around 3 pm when I still had 4 consults on my plate and the local attending physician was happily doling out more.
Then I met Mr. V.
He was on one of my consults and I went in reluctantly, silently urging him to swallow everything I give him so I can clear him for DAT (diet as tolerated). I'd hear rumours about him too, from the nurses and the physio...about him being agitated and aggressive, kind of confused. He had hx (history) of drug abuse and was homeless and suicidal, had tried to bite the nurses that attended to him and kept on spitting at people, which is never good when you're Hep C +ve. You can imagine my state of mind when I walked into that room.
But as I introduced myself as the occupational therapist and started talking to him, I realized that we clicked. It was so tangible that you could almost hear the audible snap. You know when you see something in someone, something special? I saw something in this man. Past the aggression and the anxiety there was a decent human being. Quirky personality for sure, but workable. My supervisor says this, "He's the one at the wheel and I don't want to be in that car". Well, I think I can take the wheel.
Do you ever experience that? Some people are hard to love. We all know people like that, I bet someone pops to mind right away. But if you get past the outer crust, you find something, be it a depth of personality, a character trait, a common interest, that piques your appreciation. Sometimes they turn out to be people you never expected them to be.
My next move with Mr. V is to find out how someone who is wheelchair-bound is able to throw himself in front of a car.

2007-05-11T20:34:00.000-07:00

People tell you that life experiences will make lines blur.
This has never been truer for me than in the hospital setting. Sometimes the line is just a wide grey streak that runs down the middle of the page. Indiscernable.
Two of my patients died this week. Or call it what you like. Diseased. Passed away. Moved on. They no longer exist as people on this earth. As health professionals who are faced with this tragedy weekly or daily, we find ways to cope. Sometimes it's morbid jokes ("I have a lighter caseload today; more time for lunch"), sometimes it's reminiscing about their character ("Mrs. B was funny, and always stuck out her tongue when the nurses drew blood"). Most of the time though, we just quietly file the paperwork, send the chart off to Medical Records and forget about ever having seen the patient. And especially as therapists, we only track in our minds the ones that are candidates for evaluation and rehab. We work efficiently; no time to dwell on those we cannot help and heal.
How does the heart get so calloused? Since when have we regarded the loss of a human being as just another mundane occurance? We can call it a defense mechanism, or a coping strategy. But what does ethical compassion call for? Or even beyond the scope of ethics...in our ingrained concept of right and wrong, what feelings should this death evoke in us? And how do we deal with dying patients day in, day out without destroying out hearts with grief?

Mrs. B was funny. She always had a smile ready, even when her pleural effusion made it hard for her to breathe and gave her pain in her chest. She would always stick out her tongue in between her teeth when the nurses took blood because she hated the prick of the needle and the sight of her own blood draining into a vial. She never ate her mashed potatoes with gravy and defiantly tolerated solid foods, even when she had difficulty chewing and pushing down the food because of her decreased pharyngeal elevation. She never wanted us to NG tube her to help her eat. She was getting better. No one could have forseen the pulmonary embolism that killed her.
I wonder what happened to the heart-shaped pillow she always had on her bed.

2007-05-09T13:45:00.000-07:00

What are the most important things in life?
More and more often I find myself questioning, examining and re-examining the activities, the committments and the ins and outs of daily life we take so for granted. Working in the ICU has doubled the frequency of my musings and has given me some startling reminders.
See, it's not the very sick ICU patients that are disturbing - one patient I saw today was on a respirator, had five EKG pads, one brachial arterial line, a few venous IV lines, a defibrillator, a foley catheter, NG feeding tube, and no less than four chest drains coming out of her. There isn't one more line we could have put into her to help her live. Yet she had family surrounding her bedside.
No, the most disturbing patients are those who are completely and utterly alone; sick and without family.
I wonder if they feel the loneliness and despair and hopelessness that I can imagine I would feel being in their place. I wonder if they ever long for visitors as they look on at their roomates' families and friends sitting at bedside. Sometimes I wonder if they are proud of their achievements and successes then. If they think back to the things they've done in life so far and smile fondly at their accomplishments. Do they feel that they've been a good person, that they've made a difference in the world or do they wish for a second chance at life?
Imagine being hooked up to tubes that breathe for you, eat for you, monitor your vitals and make your heart beat. What would life look like then?

2007-05-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there is hope in madness.

Emergency has been crazy for most of the past week. Today was not an exception. It comes and goes in waves. A bit like the weather I guess; it's unpredictable. Sometimes it's so crazy that the doors close under the classification of a code purple, when even the rescue bays are full of sick and dying people. Usually someone is yelling. Or crying. There are anxious family members milling around, trying to figure out the CT scans and colonoscopies and workups and discharge for their loved ones. There are people sleeping, people arguing, curtains open and close, arguments escalade, tempers flare, nurses draw blood, orderlies wheel stretchers in and out, doctors with their stream of medical jargon - CVA, DM, SRCOA, CHF, NKDA, TKR...
I'm sitting in the middle of this, trying to shut out all the noise, to get my paperwork done, considering hiding in a linen closet to get some quiet when a lady starts to sing. She has this beautiful smooth voice. Calm, self-assured. And one by one, everyone falls silent. I think we were all shocked by this unfamiliar occurance. As health professionals, we like to think we know it all. And I think we're all struck by her courage. She's singing to her dying husband and it sings peace into our hearts.
We all turn back to our work, quietly, as she continues her song.
I sign my paperwork, grab my binder and head down to medical rounds and on my way, although I don't remember the words to the song, I'm glad that someone reminds us that even in the midst of the storm, a calm can be found.