Courage on the Eve of 24 Years of Life

It is sweet and comforting like hot chocolate to think of yourself as a courageous heart. And although I'm nearly 24, I think it is still quite young and innocent and beautiful. This past week has been a blessing and so I will share its story:

Ancient Greece in the Hospital

I had my second official clinical encounter this week, this time in the ER. It was night and my fellow PA colleagues and I did a bout of waiting before making it down to visit with a patient with a retropharyngeal abscess. Of course we asked and heard plenty of his sick-tale -his illness narrative -traveling from clinic to hospital to hospital, coughing up old blood, the pain, the pus, the infection, the uncertainty, and the really good doctor. But his life story was what was so absolutely fascinating. He was a retired engineer who now whiled away his days in a magical world of sculpting with metal and painting -a passionate artist. He had immigrated to Canada from Greece after the Second World War and he and his wife were married here almost immediately upon landing. He is a lover of Ancient Greek Mythology and Philosophy, his two children and many grandchildren, and the sands, waters and mountains of his birth-country. He loves telling his story -a story of pride, hard work, love, passion. He is outspoken when it comes to politics, immigration concerns (this was actually rather unnerving to hear about, frankly -but I guess seeming-discrimination perhaps is just one of his flaws, and we've all got flaws, lots of flaws... it's out of ignorance and fear of what you don't know and he lived in a completely different era in Europe -it was not malicious or ill-meaning... I don't even think he realized it, really. Here's the thing, he has a good heart. We can only do the best we can right.) and religion -he worships only the Great Philosophers of Ancient Greece it seems.

Bearers of Warmth and Service

Outreach with Project Genesis was really amazing. We froze our bums off walking down to some very poorly kept apartment buildings with awful landlords and tenants who really suffer for it. Like it's winter right, so it's normal that it's cold... outside. Not inside though. It's actually against the law in this province for there to be inadequate heating in apartment buildings (and this is the responsibility of the landlord). But these tenants -mostly immigrants from South Asia, Africa, Haiti -they deal with inadequate heating, no hot water and mouse infestations. In the dead of winter. In Montreal. And the landlord does nothing about it. And the buildings themselves are falling apart.

And if affects their health and their well-being, and their children and so much. Take for example the man who recently had heart surgery. He can't shower because the water goes hot-cold too fast, too often. So he has to fill up buckets of water in order to bathe. As if we live in some under-developed country. It's a pretty shitty deal.

So we go and give them information -phone numbers, addresses, let them know what their rights are, that they can contest rent increases and report landlord abuses. And it feels good to make a very tiny difference. It feels good that after walking the 4 floors of the building, knocking on each door, helping a bunch of them call the inspectors to report the urgency of substandard heating, that at the end of it, the inspectors finally agreed to come and try to fix the problem directly. Like if I would have died at the end of that day, I helped my fellow woman and man in my very small way. Even though the laws were made by landlords and are therefore skewed to protect landlords and not tenants -a problematic, systemic flaw bound to have been abused historically and presently.

New Cafes, Old Friends

It was wonderful to meet up with old friends from home (here) and old friend from 'fair Harvard'. And to try a new bistro that is very 'Montreal'. And to catch up about the existential wonder that was the undergrad I took for granted. The philosophizing, the interesting discussion and intellectual stimuation -essentially, the stereotype we often denied. I mean, we didn't live the stereotype everyday, but it was certainly accessible at will, and now, not so much. Professional school just doesn't have that 'let's think about life and the world and talk about everything' kind of philsophy that underpins the liberal arts education that is the real education of life, really. It was lovely. Also, I had no idea about these 'secret societies' of top-notch Harvard professors so those were fun stories.

Adversity When It Was Going So Good

So I had all this -life was really charming, it was like Turkish baklava. Sweet, rich, satisfying. I even hosted my first Osler Society lecture for the Lecture Series we organize -it was with a historian of surgery and it was interesting, and we had good turn-out. I had been swimming 2 km twice a week for the last couple of weeks. I was even enjoying a little crush. And then it happens. The Universe throws you a curve ball. It was of a med-school related nature -nothing I won't be able to catch, even if only after it hit the ground a couple times. But still, it throws you off. But I'm almost 24 now -really, a big girl. A young woman in all of her prime and wonder. So it's going to be okay. I am happy and I feel loved.