Sri Lanka

Again, another country that we spent a scant 24 hours-ish in. We actually spent our day driving along the southern coastline to go visit Operation Mobilization's ship that was docked at the southern end of the country. We spent several hours driving by kilometre after kilometre of tsunami devastation. It's hard to describe the sight. Certainly, knocked down buildings and such are fairly commonplace, but to watch for miles of buildings that are (still) gone, and, in their place, a few houses here, many make-shift tents and wooden shacks there, is another thing entirely. To see forests of palm trees with their branches flailing backwards, away from the shoreline, single flip-flops lying in the sand, boats in broken pieces several metres from the beach.... What I found most striking though, was the overgrowth. Morning glories have taken over much of the ground cover since then, as many people have not been able to afford to rebuild again....
Shamefully, we did make a "tour stop" to take pictures of the destruction, and I spent a whole roll on it. I don't think words or pictures are adequate though, to communicate it all....

Thailand

Well, we only spent about 24 hours in the country, and none of it in Bangkok, except to transfer flights. I don't think my posts are going to be very articulate today; I may re-edit them later when I'm a little less sleepy... However, we did go to this elephant farm in northern Thailand... it's not so much a farm as it is a bit of a circus. It's where the 'world-famous' elephant paintings come from. And, admittedly, Asian elephants are very cute. Basically, a whole freaking herd of elephants live here, entertaining tourists with their antics and their paintings, and you can ride them and admire the babies, etc. VERY CUTE. But also, very sad. Some of the younger elephants (presumably still under training) were chained around the neck and foot, I suppose, to keep them from stamping on people. It is very strange and humiliating, being entertained by slaves, and yet enjoying it... I wonder if this is how other cultures allowed themselves to enslave others... I also wonder at how much these beasts had to be subjugated when they were younger to forget that they have incredible power and beautiful potential for wildness....
PS. Didn't eat pad thai here. Will have to return.

Mr. Fruit

This may sound really strange to folks, and some of you may think I'm on drugs or something, but we've been smuggling fruit across country borders and through airports. We've successfully gotten Mr. Orange through HK, Thailand and Sri Lanka, but in a fit of hunger desperation, ate him. We've also gone through Mr. Banana, but he didn't last very long. Currently, we've got Son of Orange with us. I think we've deluded ourselves to think we're doing something vaguely illegal by smuggling produce across borders... :P

Hong Kong

I know many of you have been here before, and lots of people were even raised here, so I'm not sure what the point of my impressions would be, as I'm sure there are many who can give much more insight to the city than I. (Besides the fact that I have barely been here 24 hours, and I'm already on my way again).
But a few observations: Work starts late, and ends late. Like some nation-wide Chinese time, or something. Oddly, coming into the city at 9am, I was struck by the entire lack of pedestrian or vehicular traffic. Apparently, things don't really start getting busy around here till at least 11am, and then keep going till the wee hours of the morning....
Also, despite all the glitz and glamour here (of which there is much: how many Burberrys does a city need, anyways? Though I have been equally as guilty, dragging everyone to Shanghai Tang to shop :P ), I sense a world-weariness here. Certainly, there have been political and economic issues surrounding this area for a while, perhaps not on a 'human devastation' scale, but ??perhaps because of all the consumerism, or relative wealth??, I do sense a fatigue from that.... ??perhaps it is a vague realization of the lack of satisfaction from speed and haste, or from things?? I can't quite grasp that... I just sense that the whole city almost sighs from its weariness... or maybe I'm just blowing out of my ear, but at least, that's what I sense when I am here...
Onto Thailand, and, if I'm lucky, the best pad thai ever...

FFT II

Vampire

CBC, lytes, glucose, BUN, creatinine
INR/PTT, liver function tests,
cultures X 2,
toxicology screen,
calcium, magnesium, TSH,
cardiac enzymes,
blood gases.
Stat please on Mr. Whatsisname in stretcher 5.

After all the blood I've sucked from him
you'd think I'd have a better grip on his soul.

--Gwynedd Pickett

Redemption? Recovery? Recividism?

I've been thinking about why there is such a taboo around the notion of suicide, that it is the only act beyond all sense of redemption. A patient recently came to me, telling me he had tried several times this week to die unsuccessfully, and if I would not help him, no one could. Grabbing me by the shoulders and looking me in the eye, he stated that if he could not get help, he would walk out and jump off a building. And I believed him.
But I wonder why such things are looked upon as mental instability. People point out that Judas the traitor hung himself after he had performed the 'sin of sins' by betraying the Son of God, and that is why (simplistically, I think) suicide is wrong. However, Aristotle poisoned himself surrounded by his followers at the end of his life, and no one rejects his writings out of hand because of it.
I am not so sure why we single out Judas as the ultimate of traitors. It's written that "all of [the disciples] will betray [Jesus]", and all of them, indeed, did flee and betray Him. However, I also note that Judas was the only one noted to have tried to make things right without being asked. He was the one, trying to beg for His life, returning the money, proclaiming that he was wrong. Peter, on the other hand, just stands around and cries when he realizes that he's in the wrong, and doesn't actually ever apologize for his betrayal. (Yes, yes, I heard the interjectors saying, "But he was too ashamed to actually apologize; he needed Jesus to bring him back into fellowship with Him, just as we need Him to initiate fellowship with us") However, I also note that Judas was the only one to feel enough anguish at his betrayal to -believe- that he was beyond redemption, and so ended his life. I know it is possible to feel enough sorrow, enough pain, to want to bring it to an end, and I wonder if Judas, of all the disciples, was the only one to understand the depth of their betrayal.
I think there is still room for redemption for Judas, -despite- his suicide, as there is for all of us, traitors and betrayors all. It -is- only through death that we can walk into life again, so I can only look to Judas and wonder....

Merry Christmas!

So I was thinking about some of the reasons why I appreciate my parents, and a few of them revolve around Christmas. Some of these things, I think, have been quite formative in how and why I think about certain things. I was chatting with a friend of mine, and he reminded me of this while we were talking about when/where we were having Christmas dinner this year. Most years for almost as long as I can remember, my folks have always invited people who were not family to eat with us and our family. Certainly, we don't eat all Norman Rockwell style; most of the time, we eat standing around the kitchen island, but that's besides the point. We've had foreign students, recent immigrants and single parents, both Christian and not, sit at various times around our 'table' for Christmas (admittedly also, most of the time, they're exclusively Korean people, but that's also besides the point). I think that is something that I profoundly respect about my folks. Their table has always remained open to people who had nowhere else to go for Christmas. We didn't have a turkey, nor any cranberry sauce this year (sadly), but I think this was the first time that I really saw the diversity around our table. And I think that makes up for any lack of cranberry sauce and turkey... Merry Christmas to you all... I hope you had a lovely one....

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag...

I am usually struck with the prevalence and profundity of depression, in all its forms. Sometimes I feel like these walking wounded are abnormally attracted to me, sensing in me some kinship or ability to walk alongside them on their descent to hell. I know that this was long-debated many moons ago about 'how tied up' in patients we get, but still... One of my preceptors once said that you end up with the practice you deserve. Some, I suppose, end up with the personalities, the anxious, the entitled, the various psychosomatisms, which would certainly not be my desire. I am not sure if the profoundly depressed are my particular little birds that I am to protect... Perhaps the ensuing folie a deux produces a vortex that helps shoot them out of the tornado, while I'm left spinning around in the dregs that are left...

Food for Thought (FFT) I

"I don't think you can live with the flat, metallic lakes, the brooding firs and pines, and the great expanses of grey rock that stretch all the way from Yellowknife to Labrador, with the naked birches and the rattling aspens, with the ghostly call of the loon and the haunting cry of the wolf, without being a very special kind of person." -- Pierre Berton

About snow tires

So I've successfully driven back out to the countryside last night, despite bad snow squalls and white-out conditions on several of the roads along the way; it took me an extra hour to get up there than it usually would b/c of this, with several rumblings of the roadsides when I swerved over the sides....
Which brings me to the snow tire issue; I know a few people have suggested that I get some for safety's sake. However, I did manage to get by 2.5 winters in Ottawa without them. Also, I'm looking at it from the perspective of probability; I get the feeling that my car, in general, being forced into going head-to-head with a truck/side rail/SUV/compact sedan/mini van, will likely lose. I thus suspect that if I was in a serious enough accident, I would probably die. Which, honestly, I think is better than being left quadriplegic. Which, after having seen many patients (today included) who have been left in various severe levels of disability d/t motor vehicle crashes, is not really my inclination. I figure, if I get snow tires, it just increases the chances that I would survive a crash. Not my inclination. "It's better to burn out than to fade away" states Tom Petty. I'd be inclined to agree; I think I'd rather smash up spectacularly than be partially crumpled.
On another note: I'm staying at this lovely little farm house B&B, so I just thought I would put a little advertising plug in for them: http://www.cedarbraeinn.ca/ . The hosts are lovely people, and it's a beautiful piece of property (though, admittedly, it's under a heck of a lot of snow right now, so I dunno what it looks like when it's all not snowy). It's nice to look out the window and just see trees and snow-covered fields out to the horizon....

Starting a landslide in my ego... A Day without me

I'm not entirely even sure how to start writing this one... I think I've been thinking a bit on archetypes: Love, death, self, sacrifice, etc. I don't have anything cohesive to say yet, but I think with the soul shrinking and other effects over the past couple of weeks may yet dredge up something potentially useful. Or it may bring up something more dark, terrifying and mystifying yet...

With literary and imagination regards to Brian...

So there was this contest in Ottawa to win tickets to the U2 concert, which, despite my many entries, I didn't win. So I'm going to post some of the better ones for ppl to peruse and see if maybe they would've picked mine... basically, you were supposed to write a very short answer to the question (very paraphrased) of how faith mingles with art and politics in U2's music.
Thanks of course to Brian who has helped my lack of arts-brain to think theologically about culture over the years too....

“Grace, she takes the blame, she covers the shame, removes the stain… a thought that changed the world… [and] makes beauty out of ugly things.”. “Touch me, take me to that other place, teach me, I know I’m not a hopeless case.”. A life touched by grace cannot help but offer hope and redemption to a hurting world. This is where Bono’s art and politics reach out to offer beauty and healing. He writes to “open up to the Lamb of God, to the love of He who made the blind to see… He’s coming back, oh believe Him.” (Very incomplete, but that was the word limit)

Hope amidst despair, resurrection amidst death: the dominant themes used in Bono's lyrics for decades now. Whether "claiming the victory Jesus won" on "Sunday Bloody Sunday", to declaring that "You broke the bonds, loosed the chains, carried the cross of my shame", Bono has consistently written about the only One who is able to offer hope. He realizes this when he declares that he "was born, a child of grace... all because of You, 'I AM' [YHWH]". The natural outflow of receiving of grace is helping heal Earth's wounds; for Bono, this is by his arts and his politics.

Anyways, the other ones kind of followed along those lines. Obviously not enough to score tickets though; apparently the winner talked about how Bono and Ali have been married for 25+ years now, though how that answers the original question, I'm not really sure... I'm suspecting a conspiracy about homogenized Christian radio that values 'family values' more than actual Christian thought...

Mr. Puffy

This morning, the weather forecaster says it feels like -15 with the windchill right now. Also, snow's supposed to be coming tonight, and I'm on call at the hospital overnight... all this leads to: It is time. Time for Mr. Puffy to come on out! Yeah!

Death and it's trappings

While I've been up here in Chesley, I've had to go to various nursing homes to declare some deaths. This isn't a particularly new experience for me. However, I've always felt a little bit silly when I've gotten the call. What on earth do you say, as a complete stranger, to a family who has just lost a loved one, especially as a stranger who's there to "make sure" their loved one is really dead? How silly do I look when I call their name, expecting them not to answer? Or when I shine a light into their eyes, not expecting a squint or a response? Or when I listen to their chests, not expecting to hear a heartbeat?

That, I think, is the one thing that always still profoundly affects me every single time. When you listen to a living, breathing chest, you can hear the air circulating amongst the millions of alveoli, can hear the litres of blood pumping through the heart, every murmur, every bruit, every crackle, every wheeze. It sounds -alive- and vibrantly so.....

But the deadness of the silence of a heart that is stilled.... it's an echo that reverberates through your stethoscope that just goes on and on in the deepness of silence.... I think I get a small chill every time I hear that... I think it's the finality of that silence that always jars me for a bit.... For a small moment, it reminds me again of how small and narrow the line between life and death truly is...

The moment passes... I put back on my professional veneer and express my condolences to the family, and leave them to grieve and mourn their loved one's mortality, while I go to ponder my own...

Postcards from the Edge Episode XI Part XV

You know what's really scary about driving down country roads? Last night was really really rainy, and tonight was really really snowy. Not so bad if you're just staying in, but I've been driving around the area having dinner with various friends who live in other towns around here.... SCARY driving in my little car.... No lights, unless you're driving through a town, or you pass a farmhouse, or another car comes at you.... no street signs, so you pretty much have to know where you're going, or if you don't, at least know several different routes to your destination in case you miss Sideroad 10 or something (which is what I did last night)... but at least the ditches on the sides of the road are small, so you can't do toooo much damage... Tonight was pretty scary, as winds were gusting up to about 60-70 km/hr, and I couldn't see anything except the three or four feet in front of me and most of it was blowing snow; nothing out the back windows, nothing out the sides... One of the main things I was thinking about was: "If I get blown over into a ditch, and I break my arms or lose consciousness so I can't get to my phone, I certainly hope the OPP can call most ppl on my cell phone list to tell them that I'm dead or something".... However, I made it back from both destinations just fine (though driving much less quickly than I usually do).... aaahhh! The snow's sticking to the ground!
On the other hand, I really really like the way ladies in small towns call you "Hon" all the time, like "Oh, hon, that's just 'round the corner and down the street. You think you'll be OK getting there, hon?" or "That'll be $7.62, hon". I like it, it's sweet. At least I'm not being called "ma'am"... :)

Motivations and caveats

So, I'm back in the little town of Chesley, and, being given the grace of having leisure time again, I've decided to try to consolidate all the still-in-existence PFTEs (which, unfortunately, the first few Episodes are missing, and, I realize, many of the older ones are in storage somewhere, so it may take a while to transcribe them online)... someone had suggested to start a blog, as that might make my life a bit easier....
So here I am, running a blog, possibly one of the bigger neo-Luddites that there are around... I do, however, see the increased flexibility (hmmm, seems to be one of the running themes this year) of having the blog... at least now when I go off on some rampage (like the previous post), it can be from the perspective of the blog, rather than, strictly speaking, a 'postcard'....
I think it may also be useful in that I can finally get a real sense as to who is actually reading these things, and who just junks them when they land in the mailbox too...
At any rate, hopefully, you guys might get a bit more of a kick out of this, hopefully, I'll be a little bit broader in what I write about (ie PFTEs will still clearly be from abroad and away, and other extraneous stuff can end up here too), and hopefully, I'll write a little more frequently as well... (maybe)...

Postcards from the Edge Episode XI Part XIV

I know it's rather unusual that I would write a PFTE from the confines of Toronto or Ottawa, but I think I've been struck enough by being in Toronto that perhaps I should write. Certainly the culture-shock of being back here has been more striking this time around than even when going overseas to Africa. I can't quite put my finger on -why- that is, per se, as I've lived in this city for most of my lifetime. I've been working on this PFTE for a few weeks now (which is also not typical; usually I just type 'em up and send 'em off), as I'm not sure how this will come across since this is an observation 'from home', and not 'away'.... it's not meant as an indictment of anyone particularly in Toronto... it's just what I've observed/felt, like I do anywhere that I go....
The hustle-bustle, hurdy-gurdy, rush rush rush cacaphony that is the reality of a city this size is starting to grate on my very soul. In other parts of the country, I've heard repeatedly about the dislike that most of the rest of Canada harbours towards Toronto, but, now that I am here, I can -feel- why this is so. It is not all terribly bad; certainly, walking through Kensington regularly heartens me, and I am currently on the hunt for the perfect pad thai. Most of my patients are quite nice, and most of the people that I work with are as well. However, I have always contended that work is not, and should not, be the all-encompassing part of life, engulfing most of the precious hours that we live (this is not to say that I'm completely hating my job; to the contrary, I think my job is one of the more interesting ones going, but that doesn't mean it should gobble up my time like a big piece of tiramisu...)... I am not sure if it is the contrast between the isolation of the north, where, geographically speaking, you are alone (which is not bad at all) to the isolation of the city, where, emotionally speaking, you are alone (which, when living shoulder-to-shoulder with millions of others, strikes you as bad). The wide open spaces, the trees, the stars and the skies speak to something (well, really, Someone) much larger than yourself, whereas the hurriedness and busy-ness of people in the city speak more to the small-mindedness that we develop when we are so minutely engaged in the details of our own little lives..... I am not so sure if it is the small-ness of the soul in the big city that I feel weighing down or if it is something other....
Some ponderings...
julia

Postcards from the Edge Episode XI Part XIII

So a few interesting notes since I've been up here: I finally went fishing for the first time in North America last week. After all that delicious fish in NWT, I felt maybe it was time to try to get some of my own (once I got over the hypocritical guilt pangs of deliberately trying to hunt something down to eat it). So I got myself a fishing licence and went out on the water (appropriately wearing my Tilley - that really made me look like I was supposed to go fish). Of course, I was the total city-slicker girl; someone else had to bait my hook with live minnows. But surprisingly, I was the only one in a boat to actually get a bite. Managed to land a 10 inch walleye without a net (though, of course, I screamed so loud when the fish landed, flopping around in the boat, they didn't really have a chance to grab a net, and then with my attempts to jump out of the boat to avoid getting slimy fish flesh all over myself... it was a pretty feeble, stereotypically city-girl response to catching a fish, I must embarassingly say). Bleah. Of course, then one of the men had to unhook my fish, hold it and measure it for me before it was determined to be too small to take home for dinner, so they threw it back in. -That- was rather anticlimactic. I didn't even get to eat my prey after all of that.... though I then returned home and had some previously caught pickerel, so I guess over all, I did get some fish for dinner, so that was good... :)
Yet another thing in the roster of "domestic skills learned abroad": I've learned how to can and preserve things; isn't that bizarre? I haven't yet made jam (on the other hand, blueberry season is wayyyy over here, so likely won't), but I did learn how to actually make things that can go in jars so they won't go bad.... that's small potatoes for some of the people on this list, but it's a big deal for me, so that goes right up there with scrapbooking... :)
Apparently, there have been many more bears wandering around town the last little while. Ever since the politically-motivated-by-people-in-the-south-elimination-of-the-spring-bear-hunt-because-bears-are-so-cute-we-shouldn't-kill-them three years ago, there have been many more bears wandering around where people actually live up in the North. I haven't seen any personally (yet), though there is basically just bush behind my house, and most of the bear sightings have been up in my area of town (in fact, the week before I arrived, a bear was wandering around in front of the emergency dept of the hospital). I really really really really want to see one, but I hope I don't, if that makes sense. The other night I was walking home from someone's house who lives up in the north end of town about a half hour from my house, walking by the (unlit) ball park and the (unlit) curling club and the (unlit) bush, kind of far-ish from any other houses, and thought nothing of it, until a couple of nurses told me the next day that that was not a terribly intelligent thing to do. Not that any people would harm me necessarily, but that the bears could... yikes...
Love you all!
julia

Postcards from the Edge Episode XI Part XII

Welcome back! I know I've been "off the air" for a few weeks, but as some of you know, I've been spending the past few weeks in Ottawa preparing for a friend's wedding (for those of you who have been breathlessly anticipating seeing some photos from said wedding, I'll send you links as soon as I get some...), and spending some time with my man Bono at the ACC :P (Thx to D & O !!) To those of you new to the series: Welcome!
I have now been back up in Sioux Lookout for the past few days. As you may recall, this is where I spent a good chunk of my springtime this year. It's nice to be back, as now there is no snow nor ice on the ground ( ! like there was in April ! ), and they're enjoying a bit of Indian summer (with no mosquitoes!! Whoopee!! ) before the winter comes.... at least I don't have to worry about tripping over ice on the way to the one and only supermarket in town :) (If you recall, back when I was here in March, I arrived the same w/e as the grand opening of said supermarket, which was the biggest thing to have happened in town for a while.... it -is- a very lovely and wonderful supermarket, so I can understand the fuss... It's like visiting a Great Canadian Superstore, or one of those massive Loblaws, so it's pretty impressive in a town this size... )
It's been a bit lovely-embarassing to be back in town, as many people have been so happy to see me come back, and remembering my name, and wondering how the weddings have gone, etc etc... whereas, dementia-afflicted that I am, I'm having a hard time keeping up with names and such. On the other hand, I jumped right back into the Bible study group that I had been with in the spring, and noticed how much their kids have all grown!!
Since for some reason, a good chunk of you believed that I spent my summer in the Yukon (is this b/c Canadians are geographically disabled, cause I know I am? Is it b/c most Canadians don't remember that Whitehorse is the capital of the Yukon, but Yellowknife is the capital of the NWT? Is it b/c only Gr. 9 geography is compulsory?), I am enclosing a map showing exactly where I am this time around, so there's no confusion.
For those of you who are interested, my home number up here is (807) 737-7252. There is an answering machine in the house, but I am not entirely sure how it works. Also, please keep in mind that I'm on Central Time. Also, I think it may be time to clean up my address list, so if you no longer wish to be part of this list, please let me know! Also, if there's anybody who should be on this list, but I keep forgetting to put them on, please also let me know!
Thinking of you all fondly,
Julia

Postcards from the Edge Episode XI Part XI

I didn’t really expect to write another one of these before I left the territory, but a few more interesting notes, and another corny joke:
What do you call a half order of bison? Unison! Har har har… groan…

At any rate, I’ve had the privilege of taking care of the Anglican bishop of the Arctic in the hospital last week. This is important as he was, and still is, very respected by the Inuit people, as he was sent here from England over fifty years ago, where he has spent his entire adult life, working in the North. Indeed, he’s written his memoirs in a rather well-known book (well, well-known for modern Inuit culture etc at any rate) published several years ago called “Igloo Dwellers Were My Church”, which he and his family gifted to me for taking care of him in hospital. I’m now busily reading it, as it also records how life has changed in the North since the 1950s… at any rate, I’ve just been struck with this gentleman and his legendary exploits in the North when he was younger, including dogsledding (!) over 4500km (!) every year (!) through the Arctic to visit his parishioners and translating the Bible into Inuinaktun single-handedly…
Furthermore, the last few days have been windy and very very rainy up here, flooding the gutters and sidewalks… it just kind of reminded me of Katrina, bearing down on the southern US, though not nearly similar in its ferocity or damage…
Now that’s really it… heading home in five days now…
julia