Guns and Russian Food

It wasn't even about the guns. It was about doing something different. Must of us don't own guns. But to tick that box that says "has shot a gun at the smith and Wesson factory," that seemed worthwhile. But I was wrong. Nobody showed up. Nobody.

Last Saturday while killing time driving around waiting for a party to start, I found a Russian restaurant. Which wasn't such a surprise because I live in the Russian/Polish part of the city. But this place was open late. Very late. And there were people inside. This place looks authentic (and like a mafia hang out). And I am desperate to go. I suggested it to a few co-workers, a few of whom seemed interested, but more than one said "but I don't even know what they eat."

And that's the point. I don't know what it feels like when you shoot a handgun. I don't know what it feels like to sit down in a Russian restaurant (where I may damn well stick out like a sore thumb), and order something that I may have no clue about. That to me, is the reason to do both.

I was able to leave work early this afternoon, a damn rarity these days. And all I really wanted was to be in Johannesburg. Thinking of the time difference, I knew that the guys would already have decided where to go for dinner. It'd be too early to eat. Maybe I'd be in the gym, or out for a run, thinking about which of my few shirts I'd wear to dinner. And then a few hours later we'd be gathers, and would be out for ages, trying new places to eat, enjoying a night out. Later on, as I was tempted to call my pals in Jo'burg, I realized it was getting a bit late. But as I thought about it, I imagined a Friday night in Jo'burg, it's summer, I bet they were sitting outside on the patio of S&S, on the umpteenth bottle of wine, listening to music, and just making the most of the night.

Fuck. Why can't I be there. Every single day I find myself thinking about where I was a year ago at this time. And every single day I wish I could go back. I have these great friends here, but the confines of residency, plus the effects of perpetual fatigue, and a cohort of friends who are mostly married/partnered (+ kids) doesn't allow for the randomness and social scene which I so dearly enjoyed last year. And that, I have realized was sustaining. This is not. I'm slightly disappointed in myself though, I must confess. I am a solo traveler, and so often have been more than content to strike out on my own, be it for a day, a week, or a month. I use to find things to do, places to go, and do them, and go there. But being back here, where I have a few great friends, and know tons of people, I end up feeling that it's not worth my time to go solo. When in fact, it would be much less disappointing to strike out on my own..

Recently, I've realized the need to take the above into consideration for jobs... The job that pays a boat-load, in the middle of nowhere sounds attractive, but the long term longevity of that job would be poor. Unfortunately one of the jobs which I thought was a sure deal has hit a bit of a snag-and that caught me a bit by surprise. I'm very close to tossing in the towel on the job search, talking to my locums (aka travelling fill-in doctor) agent, and going that route which will allow me the freedom to travel.

In the meantime, I'm going to go shoot some guns and eat some borsch. (Maybe on my own).

-

Running, Again? Running, Away?

I don't think it was a whim, but I don't know why I stopped out of the blue to buy new running shoes. I hardy run these days. But I did, and I shelled out the bucks for the new shoes (the current version of the shoes I've been running in since August 2004), as well as some fancy socks and a shirt. And then I came home, chatted with my flatmate, had a glass of wine, and pondered going to bed. Realizing that I should put those new shoes to use (if anything to justify the ridiculous price of 75 US$, I mean that'd do a long way for some friends back in SA), I abruptly stood up from the table, finished a generous gulp of wine, and went and changed to go running.

I put on my ipod to my running mix, the same mix of 164 songs that I've had for years, and set off. I turned the corner and headed down Route 5. I don't know what it was that took me back in an instant to that first night I ran in Dublin. Maybe it was running along a busy road (there, it had been South Circular Road), maybe it was the cool, misty night air. Maybe it was knowing that my legs were going to be sore in the morning, as I was biting off more than I should by hitting the pavement, but I felt like I'd gone back in time. And for a few blocks, maybe a mile (I wish I could say a few miles), I kept having flashbacks to my running progress in Dublin. After that first run, I couldn't run for a week. And then I ran around a park for a while, a meager few blocks, and then I was running more. Running along the River Liffey. Running through Dublin-no longer embarrassed to be out running. As I changed my running route, I discovered new areas to run in Dublin. New Parks I had never explored. New pubs which I made a mental note to check out, though usually forgot about once I got home. When a certain song plays when running, I can recall exactly where I was in Dublin during certain runs...

I turned the block, and ran past an Indian restaurant. And that triggered a flashback to a night when I went running during my intern year. A cold night. I'd run from my flat, down to the hospital, and around a neighborhood. I'd run past Gabby's house- and saw she wasn't home, and I wasn't sure why she and I had not talked in a few days-both busy I'd suspected. The Indian restaurant I was passing is where she took me for my birthday, and the conversation that night is permanently etched in my memory. We were going to make the world a better place. She wouldn't let me sell out, and as I ran, I thought what advice she'd be giving me now. "Fuck those job offers, are you kidding me, there are people out there who really need our help." She didn't hold back. And I miss that. She gave me coffee and a tie for my birthday. I don't wear that tie nearly enough. Maybe I'll wear it tomorrow.

I was lost in thought. Am I running to somewhere? Or am I running from something? For months I've agonized where my paths is going. I've solicited (both bluntly and circuitously) the insight from friends, sometimes hoping that one or two of them would pin me down and spell it out for me. Because I cannot see the path anymore. When my world crashed in July and August, all I could think of was Denver. On more than one occasion in the past 4 months, I contemplated flying out to Denver the following morning, fuck residency. Having the support from my family when I did see them in July, and the joy of hanging out with nieces and nephews, combined with the awesomeness of Denver made it clear, that Denver is where I thought I needed to go, and the ball was set in motion. On a Saturday in September, after Randall's memorial, I was sitting outside drinking margaritas and chowing down Nachos, surrounded by a great group of people; it was again evident that Denver is where I was headed.

I was lost in thought, until I saw a dodgy person on the sidewalk with a German shepherd. I'm in a residential neighborhood, in a safe part of town. This is not Johannesburg. I am safe here. He nods as I run past. More than once, in Jo'burg, I had crossed the street, or taken a turn and changed my path when I was running and saw a group of people on the street at night. It had taken me months to work up the courage to run there. I miss running in the nature reserve; I miss seeing zebras and wildebeests on runs. I miss Jo'burg, period. And then I heard Gabby again, and I wonder if I am running from the thing I really want to do, to oblige the banks who loaned me the vast sums of money so I could get to this point.

As I reach the driveway, the only Jewel song in this mix, Who Will Save Your Soul starts playing. I smile as I stretch. Maybe the answer is neither. I'm not running to nor from somewhere/something.

I'm just running...


BPB

90 hours

I worked 90 hours last week.

 

Tonight I was re-reading some old posts, and I looked through old pics posted on here (and on the link to old photos). I miss where I was last year. I miss my Jo'burg pals. I miss working at Bara...

 

I'm meandering along the status quo route right now. Just keep plugging along... I have some interviews lined up, a few in Denver a few elsewhere. Balancing a calling back to the Rockies.. but also a fear of settling down, waking up in 5 year, 10 years, wondering why my passport is blank, and how it is I ended up settling down. That's my fear.

 

I'm back to work in a few hours, I suspect sleep, not pondering life, would be good for me at this point. So, I shall abruptly cease this post, and cave to fatigue and the comforts of my flannel sheets.

 

 

BPB

False Start

I hope this isn't another false start.

 

I feel compelled, all of a sudden to get back on track. No in a manic get a million things done at once, but slowly getting caught up on things like email, going through a mounting mail stack (it's all junk) etc. But also trying to get back on track academically... trying to settle down, get back in the groove of reading about my patient's conditions, preparing for upcoming exams, and just trying to be a better doctor.

 

I don't have much to show for the past 2 and a half months. A few extra pounds thanks to ice-cream and wine, a few more grey hairs, and a reminder that life is precious.

 

I did manage to send off my CV to a few random sources. Just kind of testing the waters really. I have one more place to send it, and then my first tier will be complete. There is no longer a definite post-residency game plan. There were plans A, B, C, D (and maybe an E-G). Kind of an if this happens, then go with this plan. If A doesn't pan out, then B.. but most days, A-D all seem great. Last week B was my favorite, and then for a bizarre reason plan C jumped to the front of the queue on Friday afternoon. The anxiety about being clueless in July when everything was happening no longer freaks me out. None of the above plans have to be permanent.

 

On another note, I eliminated a plan. The honeymoon phase of being back here is over. I have some great friends here. I absolutely love the hospital I am in. But this area is not for me. I'm not straight. I'm not in a relationship. I'm not one to sit idly by and be content at home. This area doesn't offer me the things I need outside of work. And so, staying here--which was the safe, comfortable option, is off the table. It is no longer an option. And I anticipate leaving here at the end of June. 9 months for now.

 

What's that song lyric, "I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been..."

 

I hope this isn't another false start.

 

 

-

Blogging in my sleep

I had a dream this morning, that I was writing a blog entry. It was a good post.

I'm getting caught up on "things" very slowly.

 

Getting some emails out (BK, OA, HG, JD etc etc etc-they are coming)

paying bills

doing taxes

laundry

unpacking

planning my life

 

There really will be more blog posts to come...

 

More soon.

 

 

BPB

A Bump in Karma. Rebounding.

Friday's call was not pleasant. 14 admission, 11 of those were between 1030 am and 7pm. I had to call in a back-up resident to help bail me out. Not that I should have had to do that.. I should have had an intern assigned to me, and then wouldn't have had to call for help. Also, if there were any sense of team work amongst the senior residents this month, it would have gone a bit more smoothly. But alas...

 

At midnight I finally felt caught up. All of the admission notes were done. I'd rechecked a few of the sick kids who had been admitted hours earlier. And I started the tedious process of starting the discharge notes for the admission that had come to by team. This use to be the expectation, that you'd stay up on call to get these things done, which would help facilitate the discharge, as quite a few of the kids who were admitted would be going home on Saturday, a few more I suspect will go home today. I found out, however, that this isn't really what happens anymore. The ethos of residents seems to have taken a bit of a dive...

 

We finished signing out to the team who would be on call on Saturday, and then I headed to the post-office. I had a notice for a package, and was glad to know that the computer battery I was expecting-shipped from Colorado by my computer guru (aka Dad), had arrived. The old battery would only last for about 30 minutes before dying. And so I took my slip to the counter and waited for the package.

 

Maybe it was the fact that I'd been up for 27 consecutive hours, had survived a painful call, felt like I'd provided good care to my patients and their families, and the realization that I have only one more f*cking week of this lame schedule, but as the post-man walked to the counter with my packages, and I realized that my "stolen" packages that I had mail from South Africa almost 5 months ago were miraculously before me, I felt an almost giddy euphoria. Maybe it was fatigue.

 

The past 8 weeks have been rough. Really rough. I had to move away from a place which I loved, leaving behind one of the greatest group of friends I've ever had. Randall died, and with his death ended mystery of knowing what the final outcome between us would be. And with his death ended the plans that I had made for the next year post-residency, that being to return to somewhere in Sub-Saharan Africa for a year of work. And on top of that, my residency program did an unprecedented move (to fill a hole in their schedule), and took away the intern on my team-so that I get the joy of doing the work of two people. There's also been a karma deficit which has affected some of my close friends. It's been a shitty 8 weeks, where the literal goal has been to get by on a day-by-day basis, and to not think about what the next day would hold.

 

I felt victorious post-call. I'd made it through a long night. My kids were doing well. The nurses let me know how glad they were that I'd been on call. Well, aside from the fact that I have a huge black cloud. And when I saw those packages, for some reason, the suffering of the past 8 weeks just seemed to melt away. As if the universe was aware that there'd been a huge Karma Deficit, and that this was a way to prove that things were going to be ok. And I raced home to open the packages. Months ago, when filing out police claims for theft, I couldn't remember the specifics of what was in those packages...

 

Taking out my Tibetan Prayer Wheel, and spinning the prayer wheel brought be right back to a chilly evening in Pokhara, when my friend Dilip and I were talking to the Tibetan Refugee women from whom I would eventually buy the prayer wheel. I open my Ethiopian Lonely Planet and looked at the pages on which I'd made notes about cool streets, and where I'd made note of hidden cafes.  I laughed that I'd mailed back a book which I doubt I'll ever read again. I'd come to accept that I'd never see these things again...

 

I slept a few hours post-call, and then went to join some friends in NoHo for lunch. And then I headed to Boston to have dinner with a couple (H&R), one of whom is on my "panel of advisors" about my post-residency plans. I've had to debate where I'm headed, and what I plan to do. And in the past 2 weeks I'd spoke to a few of my advisors about things, and the possible evolution in my plans, and the algorithms which I've diagramed out. There is not a Plan A, with a back up of Plan B, etc. But rather there are Plans A, B, C, and D. All of which are fine, but none of which excite me to the level that they should. The plan that excited me the most, is no longer in the cards. Anyway, H&R and I had a great evening, gourmet burgers, good margaritas, and plenty of discussion about options.

 

And as I drove home on the Mass Pike, with a U2 CD blaring, things seemed to have finally started to pick up, as if I'm rebounding from all that has happened in the past 8 weeks.

 

Finally.

 

-

 

 

-

Flashback

Tomorrow is my first overnight peds call of the year. It's quite remarkable to think back 4 years ago to my first peds call as an intern. I never thought I'd hit the comfort level that I have finally reached...

I'm actually looking forward to the call...

Thanks Rob...

Aquarius Horoscope for week of August 13, 2009
(from freewillastrology.com)

In the days ahead, you may not realize what you're looking for until you find it. I advise you, therefore, to put into action the following five-point plan. 1) Suppress any know-it-all tendencies you might have. 2) Revive your childhood talent for being voraciously curious about everything. 3) Ask more questions than you've ever asked before. 4) Figure out how to be receptive without being passive, and how you can be humble without muffling your self-confidence. 5) Consider the possibility that you have a lot to learn about what's best for you.

My Horoscope from the infamous Rob Brezsny.

1-yeah sure, that sounds fine in principle
2-I don't have the energy for curiosity
3-There's already an overflowing list
4-think I have this one down
5-No shit, really?

I laid under the stars at Tanglewood tonight (www.tanglewood.org) thinking that I hadn't written in a while, that I should make a note of what's been going on since I got back to the US.

But it's just not stuff I really care to write about right now, so in a burst of insomnia, went back to my old friend Rob for some amusing answers to why the universe has been all outta whack... Think I'll check back week for a better response.

-

Square Peg

In a round hole.

 

I snuck into noon conference to get lunch yesterday (with no intention of listening to the talk-did I mention the lunch is free) and saw David. David who is now a real doctor. Making real money. Taking care of patient as a real doctor, not having to discuss his every plan with an attending. I couldn't help but have some slight envy when I saw him. Ok, I'm lying it wasn't slight. It was pretty good envy.

 

I have a small talk which I am suppose to give tomorrow, and a small talk to give on Friday.

I'm on call tomorrow.

I no longer have an intern assigned to me.

I'm making money, but squat compared to that attending salary David is getting.

I'm tired of having to precept my management plans with attending doctors.

 

But I guess this is a small price to pay for having been able to be away last year. If I could go back in time, I'd do it all again--in a heartbeat.

 

Everyday I see people whom I haven't seen since I got back. And they all ask the same question. "Are you glad to be back?" 

 

Am.

I.

Glad.

To.

Be.

Back??

 

It's a loaded question.

 

Recently the answer is no. Yesterday I was helping the intern do a spinal tap, and we needed more numbing medication (like the stuff the dentist gives). But in order to get more lidocaine, I had to take off my sterile crap, go out of the room to a computer, and put in an order which would allow the electronic-computer-controlled-medication dispensing machine release a vial of it.. all so that the charge would be passed on to the patient. They whole process took 5 minutes. Which was 5 minutes of more discomfort for the patient (and the intern who was already sweating).. and for what cost?? To save the hospital a few bucks.

 

Recently the answer is yes. On the rare time that we'd want to use lidocaine in SA, it would likely be impossible to find some. There was a secret stash in the ICU, which was used for more intensive things, like central IVs, but we wouldn't waste lidocaine for small things, like spinal taps.

 

It's hit and miss. And I feel like the square peg, fitting into a round hole. I can fit into the holes, but it's not an ideal fit... That's just one example. There are many, on a daily basis.. but as it is, I need to go finish these talks that I have to give this week..

 

I can't wait to be done. I just want to be a doctor.
Where-I'm not sure.

Doing what-I'm not sure.

 

-

 

11 F*cking Months

Well, it was nice to be back to work for a few weeks. Until I found out I was getting THE SHAFT at work next month-in that I'll be working solo. Not that I mind so much, because in 11 months I won't have an intern to do the scut work for me, and not that I'll mind much because I'll have a real salary, but what I mind is the unprofessional way in which the program has been handling things...
 
11 Fucking Months left. Until residency is over.
 
I was sitting in a meeting today, listening to whining, whining, whining.. all about work load and hours that we work. It's freaking pathetic. Don't get me wrong, I am pretty vocal about things I don't like, but not one to complain about working hard, or long hours-it's our job.
 
Not that Bara was perfect, but god I wish I could be back there. Shit happens. The job is hard. Like it or get the fuck out.
 
2 year ago in July, I was a pediatric ward senior resident. We had a great month. I'm not getting the same feeling heading into August.
 
-
 

 

Moving on

I'm in chicago, on my layover headed home from Hawaii.

The wedding was fantastic, the whole trip was a great distraction from life. We had a blast, did lots of relaxing and laughing, and made new friends. It was also just great to be away.

But now i am headed back to reality. I think I am ready for what lies ahead. As for work, I'm getting SHAFTED in august as they have taken away my intern so I get to do the scut work that the intern does. As for post-residency plans, i am still trying to sort through options... August will be busy.

More soon.

To the beach

hello

Had a great, but quick, stealth trip to denver over the weekend.  It was great to be surrounded by family (and a few friends), and the new additions to the family are gorgeous!

I am now headed, out to Hawaii for a wedding. will be back to Massachusetts on Monday. But for now, i think a few days of sunshine and rest are well deserved given recent events...

more soon.

Auto pilot

15 days ago I had the answers. I knew the job I was applying for. I knew what I wanted to do for the next year or two. I came back with expectations to coast for a year-when I got back to the US.

 

And Randall's death has confused me. And all of a sudden I am not sure what I want. I am not sure about my professional plans. I am not sure about my personal plans.

 

I am just on auto pilot.

 

But it is oddly refreshing to be back at my home hospital. I am enjoying a comfort zone there; a comfort zome that I have never experienced before. It's a comfort zone with my ability to function as a doctor, and a comfort zone being back in an institution where I'm so well known that people think I'm an attending. I have found it oddly comforting being back in such a familiar surrounding.

 

I'm going to Denver on Friday. It's a trip that has been planned for a few moths now. I can't express how much I'm looking forward to being in the presence of my family. In the troubles of the past 2 weeks, knowing that I am going to be with them is what has kept me going--that I am going to be with my brothers, my dad, and their wives, as well as seeing my nieces and nephews has been keeping me going.

 

In the meantime, please don't ask me what I plan to do down the road. All I know is that I doing tomorrow. It's day-by-day for now.

 

-

RIP Randall

Dec 20, 1976 - July 7, 2009
I know there are no guarantees in life...

Blog postings on hold for a bit.
Randall: http://randallchina.blogspot.com/

Almost Back

Somewhere over Europe is when reality seemed to hit me. Well, actually, according to the flight map display in the airplane, we were over Northern Ireland at the time. I am going to be back in America in about 5 hours. I will be back to my residency position in less that 72 hours. My upcoming days in the ICU and on the medicine wards provoked a bit of anxiety as I tried to get myself to think through clinical conditions which I may confront. I have not taken care of somebody having a heart attack in over a year. I have not managed an adult diabetic patient in a year either-and cannot quite recall when they are suppose to have routine diabetic care stuff done. Wow, I may be a bit rusty. I am sure, though, that I will settle back into the swing of things quickly, with a few bumps and "Oh yeah, now I remember" moments.

 

I will have just 2 days to get some errands run when getting back. I need to upgrade my phone/PDA as it appears my palm pilot is on the fritz. I also need to get clothes out storage. I came here, to SA, with 64 kilograms, in 2 bags. I am heading back to America with 69 kilograms, which is contained in 3 bags (and sadly cost me US$150). I am not quite certain what is actually in those bags. When I was in my Jo'burg room, I began to appreciate having so few worldly possessions, and was quite amazed to find that it took 3 bags to pack up. But, I had neglected to realize that my new backpack, tent, sleeping bag, and outdoor clothes added to the accumulated goods. To manage, I also had to voluntarily redistribute some wealth, and that was in the form of a filled trash bag. After wearing the same clothes for a year, I could no longer stand to look at some of the shirts which I have word day-in, and day-out to the hospital. So, among those shirts, and the ones that I never seemed to wear, I packed them up, and stopped by to see JC, my favorite Zim patient. I am thrilled that he is likely the only person walking around Soweto in a Colorado T-Shirt, as well as Banana Republic and GAP clothes. Though I did ask him to distribute clothes amongst his friends and others in his situation. I have realized that I accumulated a ridiculous amount of clothes in my few years of residency, so was more than happy to redistribute goods. It will be nice to unpack clothes which have laid dormant for a year.

 

I also find myself eager to start to seriously contemplating what lies ahead for me post-residency. I have not really made much progress on an actual plan, as I have been deferring looking at real possibilities until I get back to the US, and can meet with a few of whom I have dubbed "my team of advisors." They have all known me for different lengths of time, as well as at different points from pre-med school, to medical school, to residency, and from SA, and they are all is vastly different positions (and even non-medical). Last week, I was asked countless times, why was I leaving. That was an easy explanation, but answering why I would not be back was difficult. It was difficult to explain that I will not be back in SA because I just wouldn't make enough money to pay student loans, and to pay rent, car stuff etc. It aggravates me that I have to factor in finances to what I would like to do. I would never contemplate taking the $200,000 a year hospitalist job just so that I could make a boat load of money, but I would contemplate it so that I could make a huge dent in student loans.

 

 

-

Running into the Sunset

I debated, hard. Opening my bottle of Meerlust and watching the sunset versus a run. I needed something. I needed to appreciate the dusk. It was a perfect cloudless Jozi evening, and the sunset was going to be superb, and I was not sure which would be the better way to appreciate it, a glass of fine wine, or sweating and pounding the pavement.

I gave my Swiss housemate a ride into town today. He is going to be leaving the house and will be living on part of the Wits campus--the old Johannesburg College of Education Campus. At JCE, I showed the guard my Wits Staff ID card, and we drove into the campus. And I dropped him off outside Gyrton Hall. And unexpectedly, a flood of memories were unleashed. Almost exactly 5 years ago to the date, I was dropped off, outside Gyrton Hall, by a taxi, and a few days later I would be getting ready to start my rotation at Bara, as a medical student.

 

From there, I left and headed over to 44 Stanley, home of my favorite coffee roasters. When I was there a few days ago, the head Barista and I were chatting and he told me I must stop by again before I leave Jozi. So I popped in this morning to enjoy my new favorite coffee drink (a PICCOLO- a strong, sweet latte served in a 90ml glass), do a bit of work, and then chat with the Barista. It was slightly embarrassing a few days ago when we did finally chat. For some reason, when he found out I was leaving, we just ended up having this great spontaneous conversation about being foreigners, and life etc. Turns out, he is a Zim refugee, who was a high school teacher before he was forced to flee Zim. (Does this sound familiar)? Anyway, when I headed to the till to pay, he handed me an SA music CD, as a gift. Needless to say, I was shocked at the kindness of this very humble ex-teacher-now-barista.

 

From there I may my way to Parkhurst, where I had a late breakfast with one of my ID attendings. We chatted and ate for 2 hours, catching up on clinic business, as well as possible future plans for pursuing a Trop Med course (she's pushing for me to consider the program where she went). Suddenly it was approaching 1pm, and I was overdue at the HIV clinic for lunch. We parted and headed to Bara.

 

I joined the HIV team for lunch, AK and I chatted for a bit, and then we walked to the xray department to consult the radiologists on a patient he was seeing, I ended up in clinic and made a round to say farewell to the other consultants, as well as the counselors, and then I headed to Ward 18, my old ward. My favorite pediatric nurse and I chatted for a bit, took some pics, and while I was there, the Registrars I worked with were there for a pedi infectious diseases round, so it was marvelous running into them and having a bit of closure. And then I departed for home.

 

And driving home, thinking about packing up my room, it just suddenly hit me that this was, or is, my last night in Mondeor. I made a cup of coffee, mulled over things, and then it was obvious-I could time it perfectly so that as I ran away from the house, I'd see the blue-purple haze hit the hills, and when I reached my turn back point, I'd capture the best part of the sunset. And that's what happened. Finally, after many attempts, I capture it perfectly. I went to the nature reserve, stopped to watch the stars, and the brushfire off in the distance..

 

Now it is late. Very late. I'm half packed. The bottle of Meerlust has enough wine for one glass (I took it to my landlord's house as we watched SA lost to Brazil and discussed life and their departure for Kili in the morning).

 

That is it. Off into the sunset. A year at Bara is over

 

-

One Last Time.

I want to do it one last time... "It" is a long list.

I want to do for one last sundowner at the Westcliffe.

I want to spend a summer evening at Lulu's after work, sitting outside reading and drinking coffee.

I want to be having breakfast at Espresso, hung over (mildly), laughing about the previous night.

I want to go back to Simply Blue on Pride night.

I want to sit outside at Mandela Square, during the week, in the middle of the day, eating sushi.

I want to take the minibus to work.

I want to see the Apartheid museum one more time.

I want to drive on the M1, amazed at the people walking along the highway, on their way home from work.

I want to be back in Nepal, back in Lesotho, back at Vic Falls, back in Cape Town, back in Clarens.

I want to be back in Ward 18 (especially now that I know so much more than a year ago).

I want to run through the nature reserve, stop, look at the zebras wildebeests and blesbock, and still be shocked that they are down the road from my house.

I want to the miracle of people coming to the HIV clinic weeks later, healthier, not dead.

I want to be in the pediatric cath lab with the peds cardiology team, learning and laughing.

I want to be at the airport, seeing the look on S&S face. Not sure if they are more confused because I've returned with only the clothes I'm wearing, or if they are more amused that I can't figure out how the hell to get to where I parked my car.

I want to spend a Saturday at Bean There studying and reading, and then meet up with friends in the afternoon, and end up back at home Sunday night.

 

What do I still want to do.

-nil-

-nada-

-zip-

-zero-

-zilch-

I've done it all. I'm cleaning and starting preliminary packing, and I just saw the list that I made a year ago. I did every single thing on that list. Life is too damn short to make lists of things to do, places to see and to not scratch items off that list regularly.

 

Back to cleaning..

 

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New Pics

Pics from the Sani Pass and from my farewell braai are now up:

 

http://picasaweb.google.com/BackToBara

 

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Bakers Chocolate

This is what I remember. It was winter, and we were on winter break. I was in third, maybe fourth grade. Our grandmother was visiting, and she was legendary for her cooking. And her baking. Our parents were at work, and she was baking away in the kitchen. I'd been hanging out, hoping for left over brownie batter. It doesn't get much better than having warm freshly grandmotherly-baked brownies on a wintery Colorado day during school break. Well, maybe it would have been better had the brothers not been around and I'd gotten both of the beaters and the brownie batter.

 

But I remember watching her put away the chocolate as she cleaned up the kitchen while perfection was cooking in the oven. And I made a mental note to remember where the chocolate had been stashed. And enjoyed knowing that the brothers didn't know about this secret stash. And at the opportune time, when the house was quiet, I made a break for the goods.

 

It's the anticipation of chocolate that I like. Knowing that I'm going to be enjoying one of the most pleasurable tastes of sweetness. Taking a bite of chocolate and letting the chocolate melt as the butteriness of the flavor comes to life is as blissful as that first sip of a great cup of coffee.

 

That's the level of sweetness that I felt on Friday. I was in my surrogate home, the place which has been my refuge while here in Jozi. S&S and I were setting up for my farewell braai (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Braai), and Scott and I were talking about what I was looking forward to, when I get back to the US. And how sweet it will be to see my family and friends again.

 

As I grabbed the bakers chocolate, I took off a piece, for eating the whole thing would raise suspicion. And with that first bite, the shock of the bitterness of Bakers Chocolate was an unwelcome surprise to the expected sensation of sweetness.

Why the hell would there be such a thing as "bitter sweet." And why wouldn't they make that more clear on the damn package.

 

I came here to Jo'burg this year, and had one simple goal. I wanted to learn about TB, HIV, and pediatric malnutrition. Those were the absolute goals. There were other minor goals, but those only involved travel plans. As we sat around and ate Friday, I realized that this year has been far more rewarding than I could have ever imagined. I remember those first few weeks when I arrived here, having a few contacts from mutual friends, but having not really met people, and thinking that it would be a monk-ish year, filled with days at the hospital, then evenings of going to the gym, then reading about patients in the evening.

 

I would have never imagined that Jo'burg would become home. And that the emotions of preparing to depart are emotions I last felt almost 9 years ago when I left Colorado. The work has been rewarding in ways that are much different from practicing medicine back in the US. But on Friday, I realized that I've been fortunate to amass a beautiful collection of friends. And as I've thought about my impending departure, I though about how much I'm going to miss them. On Friday, my friends were South Africa, Dutch, Swiss, Spanish, Argentinean, American, British, Belgium, (and maybe one or two that aren't coming to me right now). And there I was surrounded by my closest friends as we had a farewell Braai The mixture of friendship, feast, and wine was perfect.

 

Like the bakers chocolate, there was bitterness. Bitter that I'm leaving this behind. The friendships will continue, the work will be here shall I be able to return in the future, but all of a sudden I find that I am not ready to head back to the US, and slightly bitter that my departure is now less than a week away...

 

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Whoa!

Back from the Sani Pass yesterday. Was beautiful. The 4-wheeling was great fun.

 

But now, it's full throttle right now. Like a maniac, I'm trying to sell my car (and wow, what a fun experience this is turning out to be), trying to finish my research project (and wow, I'm even further behind than I thought, after talking to my advisor today), trying to decide what to pack (and wow, I have a lot of crap, a lot of which is outdoor equipment I already have in the US), trying to get the post office to find my stuff (and wow, they may give some reimbursement-too bad I can't really recall what was in there, as well as the fact that the most precious thing has no value).

 

I'm in a bit of a whirlwind right now, and am so aware that these minor hassles are a small "price" to pay for such a great year...

 

I slept under the stars Monday night and tried to reflect. I couldn't really reflect because I had a migraine headache, was sleeping outside because the B&B was too noisy, and it was freezing. I thought watching for shooting stars and reflecting about the past year would bring me to some profound thought that I could summarize, and would help my migraine go away. My migraine didn't go away. And I didn't have profound thoughts. But I did see, perhaps, the most brilliant shooting star of my life. And for some reason, enjoying the moment solo, cold, and in discomfort was perfect.

 

The next few days are occupied with the above tasks. Selling my car. Packing. De-cluttering (just will let you guess what that means). Haggling with the post office. Finishing my research. Enjoying time with my friends. Implied in this, is drinking boat loads of coffee (and likely wine).

 

Departure from Jozi: Saturday June 27

Back to work (in the ICU for a few days, if you can believe that one) July 1.

 

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