Welcome to the new rendition of my online blog/diary!! Having written under this pseudonym for a while, I decided that I will 'reveal' myself in some ways. Those of you who have been on MomMD long enough will know that 'someone' is leaving to go to the UK. That person is me! And I will still remain 'nameless' as to protect any patient details and privacy. Some elements of my previous diary we're deliberate to conceal my identity. For example, I have two girls and not two boys! I am actually 34 now - eek.

You can PM me to guess who I am!

I'm wondering how come it took me soooooo long to write another one. I have been just swamped with the stuff of life.. here is a link to my other diary entries - http://mommd.com/diaries/sandra.shtml


Asystole

I arrived for my shift in the ER as usual. Sweeping around the corner an open door showed about half-a-dozen doctors and nurses 'working' on a patient. One member of staff leg's straddled his body, he performed CPR and others injected the drugs epinephrine and atropine into his system. Not prepared for this visual image I turned another corner and saw a mother holding her young boy (about 8 I guess), she glared at me, she knew what was happening. The boy had asked questions and wanted to know what was going on. A drunken homeless man offered words of comfort breathing a sweet, rancid smell of stale liquor all over them. She wanted to get out of there.

About 5 minutes later I walked past the room again. This time no-one was there and he lay still upon the bed. My immediate thought was great they did it they saved him and now he's sleeping. About few seconds later I realized that this was not the case. This was the first dead body I had ever seen. Embarrased, I walked away not wanting others to know that I had just crossed that threshold and seen someone whose life had ended. It was not time for the boy to see that, so I pulled the door closed.

Several minutes later the EMT asked me if I could give her a hand moving a patient. "Which patient" I said. "The patient in room 5103" she replied. I knew that room well, staff referred to it by room number because it was the room where drug-addicts, the homeless and psychriatic patients were held. It has a closed circuit TV screen and a permanently had a strange smell. I never liked cleaning that room as you had to be extra careful of stuff of the floor, bits lying around or patients in handcuffs.

The patient in 5103 was the patient I had just seen. She wanted me to help take the body board from under his back, she couldn't lift him alone. "I guess," I said. "Put your gloves on", she reminded me.

My first instinct being so close and actually touching him was how perfectly normal it all seemed. He lay still, serene, freed of his difficult life. He was only one year older than me, a homeless man with blond hair, matted in several places. Catheters had been inserted into his hip, the tubes were still attached to him. His fingernails jammed with dirt and his hands brushed with a thick inpenetrable coating of dried on dirt. He had probably not washed in weeks. I wondered how he lived his life, what drove him to live a life on the streets. But I knew nothing about him, perhaps he was happy. I honestly kept expecting him to wake up and say "what's going on"?

"What happened to him?", I asked. "Probably just hard-living" the tech told me. I picked up the chart and saw that he had arrived Asystole and he had been found on a sidewalk somewhere. They had done what they could but there wasn't much else they could have done. So young and alone, his family doesn't even know where he is I thought. Someone, somewhere, I HOPE, will contact them and let them know that their son is dead. Not from murder or violence, just that his heart stopped. I since learned that he had no illegal drugs in his system, just probably one of those random events that happens at times.

Lifting his body was heavier than I thought. We pulled the body board from beneath him and then zipped him up in the body bag. This was totally strange to me, I found out that patients in a very serious condition when they come in have a body bag automatically placed beneath their bedding. So efficient and practical, next time you're in the hospital I bet you'll check! The body bag was very much like bedding, white and would be very difficult to detect. My mind was RACING, I just zipped someone up in a body bag.

"Can you help me take him to the morgue?", she asked. M.O.R.G.U.E., the words flashed across my mind. Yes, the morgue which I had wondered about (see my other articles) in the past. "I guess", I replied.

We wheeled him quickly through the ER. It felt like a strange TV show. People quickly moved to the side and I heard someone say "Oh My God". We showed no emotion as we passed by, I did not look in their faces, I felt oddly embarrased by it all. The smell of formaldehyde was already penetrating my nostrils. It was a smell that brought a flurry of memories as I remembered the huge buckets in school that contained animal parts soaked in formaldehyde (don't ask that's a longer story, I grew up in the country where agricultural biology was taught to us all). That smell, although unpleasant, took me back 15 years.

We pressed the button of the elevator that only serves the ICU, ER and surgery. The elevator in which the deceased are carried to the morgue. The elevator in which the smell of formaldehyde was ten times more pungent. The elevator in which I only wished to spend seconds, not minutes, in. The elevator in which I held my breath. It was so small that we could not move the gurney around properly. When we had to pull him out, he got bumped and jostled many times. I still kept expecting him to get up and say "what the hell are you doing?".

It was now that it took a humorous turn. I know NOT funny, just black, tragic comedy. We had to pull him off the gurney and on to the thin, silver morgue cart. He was NOT a large man, actually quite thin, but tall. It was night and the pathology workers were not there. We assessed the situation, applied the brakes and discussed how to best move him from one bed to another. "Should I pull or push?" I asked. "Should I move his legs or his head?". Somehow between the two of us we got him half-way onto the morgue cart. We had to leave the door propped so that it would not lock us in. The prop didn't work so I had to stretch out my leg and balance as I pulled him over. I envisioned him falling on the floor and what we would do then. Call a team of people to help, trying and lift him ourselves, who knows, it was too awful for me to imagine. We didn't want to 'hurt' him. He was still very much a patient that we treated with the same respect as if he were alive. I thought of his family and we took him on the next part of his life's journey.

Inside the morgue were five other bodies, it was chill, dark and smelly. Still it looked EXACTLY like the refrigerators that we had in the supermarket I once worked. There was an odd familiarity about it.

I was glad to leave and was handed his possessions to take to the nursing office. All he had was a social security card and two dollars in change. I saw his name. I was certain that I would always remember that name forever. Strangely I do not recall it at all. I am sure that my mind has blanked it out. Still I will never forget him. I said a prayer as I left him there, I wanted his family to know that he got good care in the final moments of his life. I sealed his items in a biohazard bag and took the Coroner's paperwork to the office.

We took the bed upstairs wiped it down with germicidal wipes. A few moments later another patient arrived to take his place, oblivious to the life that had passed.

_______________________________

Sorry this is long! I just write as I remember it. There is loads more, I have been having an exhilirating and amazing time in the ER (nine months). It is absolutely the specialty for me. I have held the hand of a woman while she was having a heart attack, sat for 3 hours with a suicidal male rape victim, talked to children with broken bones, the list goes on. I'll try and add more later.

Changes
Well, the day has finally come. The day I have been waiting for, for a long time. After nearly 10 years in America, I booked three one-way tickets to the UK. I am excited, nervous, petrified and releived at the same in. On Aug 3rd, me and my two girls (aged 4 and 5) will board a plane and fly 'home'. Home for me, but alien to them. They'll arrive with their American accents in a new land - they've been before, but do not remember. I'm leaving friends behind, my beloved Volvo and my dear husband. He will come later in a few months or weeks. My income will be reduced by 90%, I will have no car and operate as a single mum for the first few weeks. I'm leaving behind Los Angeles, sun, celebrities, white teeth and botox. I'm moving back to my home. I grew up there, my best friend of 30 years lives there. I already have two degrees from the University, a BSc in Social Policy & Sociology and an MSc in International Development Policy. My grandfather attended the University in the 1920s, as did my uncle and many of my best friends.

My course starts in October, for 6 years, when I will graduate with an MBChB (degree in medicine), then spend 2 more foundation years before embarking upon my chosen specialty. I'll be 40 when I graduate medical school!

Just bringing you all up-to-date. I have an enormous list of things to do. I'm organising medical records, accommodation, finances, and much more. I'm sorting through a lifetime's worth of possessions, selling many, keeping some and preparing for a HUGE life change, in more ways than one.

My mum will be helping me until my husband arrives.

More soon..... :goodvibes: :boggled: :scratchchin: :grouphug:

It's the night before the flight. I am utterly exhausted, exhilirated and excited. It's all good. Saying goodbye will be hard - the three things I'll miss most will be the weather, my friends and Anastasia's eyebrow waxing!

The house is ordered chaos and the cases are NEARLY packed. Great news is my husband is coming on the same flight as me tomorrow. He has a job interview on Friday, they want him to start in Sept. Changes for all of us, looking forward to them all, but nervous.

Starting to worry about the course a bit, what if I'm not smart enough and all that kind of stuff. Looking forward to meeting the other ten people on my course. Registered with the BMA today - can't believe it!

It has taken what seems a lifetime to get back online and into the real world. This is an old entry. I will update ASAP.

Well, I've been home in the UK for one week now. My return has brought some nasty surprises, warm reunions and pleasant memories.

My last week in LA was spent enjoying what LA has to offer. Manicure, pedicure and eyebrows at Anastastia's. Lots of sad goodbyes, socializing and help from kind friends. My friends were fantastic, so kind and amazing.



Part of my decision to come at this time was my booking of a visiting professors and academics flat at the University. The web pictures looked great and EVERYTHING was provided. I felt a little over-the-top packing my girls bedding and chefs knives knowing that some of this stuff would already be there. On the day of departure, with one hour to go, I checked my work voice messages to find that a TV reporter wanted to interview a client in a few days and needed a press kit and other vital information. I rushed about printing the kit, no printer cartridge, sped to Staples bought one, now 40 mins to go and still 2 cases to pack. Cartridge was the wrong size, went back to Staples, got home and printed my kit. Still needed to go to the POST OFFICE to mail the darn thing; had to be done. As the taxi arrived I was running to mail my package.



Arrived at the airport, checked in our TEN items. Waited and waited the boarded the flight. The four of us crammed onto the flight. Over the next ten hours, I managed 15 minutes sleep and my girls about 1-2 hours each. Awful. Felt sick with cramped legs and looking forward to a nice bath and flat bed.



By the time we left the airport nearly 3 hours had passed and we arrived at our destination at 5pm; now 27 hours later with only 15 minutes sleep. Walking into the flat was a sorry experience. The carpets were filthy, the most dirty I have ever seen. Rat/mousetraps decorated the borders of the rooms every one metre or so. Clearly marked "do not touch"; we told the girls not to touch them. The furniture was, at best, old office furniture that should have been thrown out 15 years ago. Dirty, old and certainly not stylish in anyway. The kitchen floor was covered in sawdust from the new kitchen they had just put in (thankfully). Even more rat poison in here. Upstairs was like a palace compared to what we found downstairs in the damp, smelly basement that housed the bedrooms and the bathroom. Yes, the smell, the whole place STANK, musty, rotten and rank. The bedroom furniture was of similar standard. I wondered how I could let me girls sleep in these beds with dusty, hair-covered pillows. My biggest achievement was bringing their bedding. I made the beds for them to smell of home. The paint was peeling off the walls, infact, the damp was causing the walls to peel off the walls. Some sections were held together with brown packing tapes. The damp smell was overwhelming. Worst by far was our bathroom. No bath, just a long narrow room with an old shower, mould covering all walls and the floor some brownish dirty colour. At this point I said, "what have I done" and cried. My lovely house in LA, my furniture and cleanliness was like a dream. They had provided sheets, new, still packed and unwashed. I had to sleep on these despite my overwhelming need to wash them. Out bedcover was made of 100% nylon, all pillows dusty and hair on them. The toilet wasn't much better, the toilet seat looked like it should be thrown out. I felt extremely dirty.



Somehow managed to get the girls to bed, kissed them goodnight and went upstairs to cry. I am to spend 6 weeks in this accommodation and I have no idea how I can even spend one night. I think of checking into a hotel and realise this would use too much of my budget. It's 9pm and I decide to have a shower. I then discover NO HOT WATER at all. We fumble around trying to fix it. We're now on 31 hours without sleep. I pick up the phone to make a call, no phone LINE. I look at our supplies, no TV, no dishwasher, no drinking glasses, no tea towels (kitchen towels), no car and many many more missing items that I am used to. I walk half a mile to the phone box, to discover it takes only credit cards, I cry and walk home again. Pick up my credit card and walk back. Call someone to help and call my mum to tell her how awful the place is.



By this stage I am at my wits end. No phone line or hot water, this is just ludicrous. Someone comes to help and we have hot water. I prepare myself for the worst shower room I have seen since camping in France in 1989. It doesn't work, either scalding hot or freezing cold, no temperature control whatsoever. The water drips out so feebly I can barely wash my body, how I will wash my thick, curly afro hair in this I have no idea. I then realize I have no way of washing my girls, the shower will burn them and I can't give them a cold one. Their feet are black with the dirt picked up off the floor.



We make it through the first night. My mum comes to stay immediately. The place is so dirty that I have decided not to clean it. I did spray the shower with mildew remover.



I hate coming into the place, it fills me with depression. I hate sleeping in my bed. We have no washing machine and I am returning to a laundrette. I must go today, this is a return to a life that I have never lived. This is by far the worst place I have lived. Today I will set about finding a real home. I cannot wait to leave here. Funny what you miss, so far cleanliness, a bath and the ability to wash the clothes. The girls had one shower and we took them somewhere for a bath. I made a trip to Ikea and bought a few more things. This is only a small amount of everything that went wrong and our new lives here. Ultimately, I am glad to be back and will feel happier once we have our own CLEAN place. We have not missed the TV or dishwasher or microwave! We are on day 5 now. Took 2 days for a phone line to be installed, hot water was fixed that night, new shower installed after two days also. Finally, hooked up the Internet, dial-up, on day 4. I will spend two nights alone here this week, which I am dreading. My husband flies back to America and leaves us for an unknown period of time and will bring our things.



My uncle has also been admitted to a hospital nearby with suspected lymphoma. We were able to visit him on Saturday, I met a cousin I haven't seen in about 6 years and starting reconnecting with family once again. My brother comes up this week and I can't wait. He was 13 when I left and I have missed nine years of his life. England is beautiful, its been about 80 degrees, the flowers are blooming, the gardens beautiful and air clean. We drove by the girls school which is a few hundred years old, up a cobbled street at the bottom of a beautiful park. It looks promising. I asked a mum in the park what it was like and she said it has a good reputation. The girls are doing REALLY well. They are enjoying everything, bus rides, food and THE HOUSE!!! Each room has 2 doors for some reason, so they run around slamming them.



Things can only get better from here! More soon. I have to pay for local calls and dial up access now!

Anyhow, yesterday we found a house (4-5) bedrooms, it's not as close as we hoped but this will be GOOD. Move in next weekend, more details forthcoming. A very sad goodbye to Dave yesterday, hopefully he'll be here very soon. My daughter is being VERY poorly behaved : ( Now have a TV which shows only 2 channels poorly, the washing machine is broken and has had a load in for 4 days and now the fridge doesn't work. There's not much else that could go wrong!! Miss everyone!


Sorry this is garbled, it has been written over the past 3 days. Got 6 writing projects that I am working on too.

OK - now the brief update. Moved into our house last Friday. My brother came to help, we rented a car and moved all our stuff. Much of the day was spent at IKEA buying bedding (had none) and other essentials. Our house now looks like an intern at IKEAs first go at styling a home. I look forward to the arrival of our belongings in NOVEMBER!! Place isn't as nice as we remembered, but we will think short term. The is what we had to do to get back. Good news is my husband arrives in about 2 weeks! Can't wait, really miss him. The girls are being remarkably adaptable and are happy now we have a working TV. I really miss my car. Have to admit that I don't like public transport, especially carrying groceries and what have you. The girls start school in one week. Then I have one month, until I start - nervous, excited... got the registration pack last week. So much more going on too. My uncle deterioted very rapidly, he has stage 4 brain cancer and is being admitted to a hospice to be provided with end-of-life care. The family has experienced this tragedy, and like many tragedies is has brought everyone closer together and helped prioritize what is important. The cancer is inoperable, his entire left side, including lung does not work. He is too sick for radiation - he lives for each day. We always imagined that my 97 year old grandpa would be the first in our family to pass away - life is so unpredictable. Must relish every day. My uncles life was transformed in less than 2 weeks. I was glad to see him that sunny day, clovers and daisies grew around and we laughed under the shade of a tree. I will probably not see him again. We are now all prepared for the inevitable - but still hopeful for a miracle.

Another aside. The girls and I were walking and I saw a cute British robin red breast. I pointed out the cute birdie to the girls, telling them how British robins are different and how lots of poems have been written about them. My youngest awoke from her pseudo-slumber and perked up at the story of cute robin. Robin hopped along beside us, about 3 feet away. Cheerily bobbing by. A car was approaching and I shouted, off you go robin, move. We stared as the car ran over dear little robin and crushed him before our very eyes. There was a crunch and a squealch. Robin, no more. There was death, inescapable, right in front of us! I was at a total loss for words, I hadn't really talked about death with them yet. My 5 year old flew into a rage and shouted "I hate that robin, I don't care about that robin. I don't want to talk about it!" My youngest said, "it's OK, she's just lying on her back!". The horror of it all has been replaced with laughter. I giggle at it - a little sick I know. But we all meet our end, can't be as bad as little robin red breast.

Well, the countdown begins. Can I do it? Will I be smart enough? What if I fail?

We're moved in now. My husband is here and starts his new job on Wednesday. My two children just started school last week, so I am easing them in. My oldest spent her 6th birthday at a new school with no new friends. We invited family up for an impromptu scooby-doo party. She had fun.

Our belongings are on a ship somewhere, due to arrive sometime in November. I've learned to live without them now, but I look forward to their arrival, it will be like Christmas.

More soon.

I'm now a medical student. Can't quite believe it really. My lectures start properly on Monday. My timetable isn't as bad as I thought. I can pick the girls up from school 2 days of the week. I should study that time, but for the moment, I've decided to spent that time with them and study more at night. My day goes like this. Get up around 6.15, get us all ready to leave to get on the bus by 8am. Arrive at the girls school, drop them off by 8.55, the RUN LIKE HELL up a steep hill to get to my class by 9am. I have four 9am starts each week. I've decided that the girls will do hot lunch as preparing their packaged lunch just takes up too much of my time. When I'm off and they aren't I'll make the sandwiches. They do after school care until 5.30, three days a week, then we get the bus home. cook dinner and eat by around 6.45pm, quick bath, stories, etc and have them in bed by 7.30 or so. I will study then from about 8pm, after clean up etc. Laundry will be done at the weekend and night. Basically a single mother until the weekend. Hopefully, my husband will get a job nearby in the future.

Anyhow, back to my first days. I went to a mature student day all day on Monday, the definition of mature is aged over 21 here. The majority are aged between 22 and 25. There are a few of us olders. There are two men aged 35 and another 35 mum of two who I have yet to meet. On my course there are about 50% 18 year olds, another 30% 18-20 year olds and a few olders. I feel like a complete FISH OUT OF WATER. Everyone seems really nice. We are all terrified of the work load. We had the talk about the responsibilities of being a doctor, etc. Surreal, exciting, terrifying... can't wait to get on with it. Six more years to go, then two years in foundation (like junior resident) then another 3 more years and then possibly another 3 or so. I can't remember really, but in about 13 years time I could be a consultant doctor. I'll be 47!!!

I should be pleased that most of them think I am the same age , but I think that when I was doing my first degree, most of these were just 4 years old and not even in school!!

On another note, the foyer includes two pictures of Elizabeth Blackwell, born in the city. I admire her courage and strength. I'm not sure how many other women there know who she is as they rush past her. I gave her a nod of thanks and thought she would be flabbergasted to know that of 300 incoming medical students around 75% of us are women. Medicine is changing beyond our wildest dreams.

The Best Laid Plans

Well. I'm now on day three. The week has NOT gone according to plan - AT ALL. I think I explained my schedule, how precise and tight the planning is. Well, I arrived to drop my girls off at school for my first day of med school classes. There was no POWER at the school, no hot water, no light, no heat and so on. We were asked to wait while they decided whether or not to close the school. Their school starts at 8.55 (for my oldest) and 9am (for my youngest). It's a minimum of 10 minutes walk from the school, up to 20 on a bad (i.e. rainy day). My class starts at 9am PROMPT and finishes at 9.50. You do the math and see that life overlaps. Attendance and lateness are crucial, lateness/poor attendance can actually cause me to not be entered for my exams. So it's 9.10am and I'm still at the school. The school head says go on leave them and come back when you can, we'll call you if the school closes. So I leave my crying girls, scared with only 6 other pupils in the entire school. Bad mother feelings creep in. I arrive at my class at 9.20am. Let's say there are 125 of us in a room, the entrance is at the front by the professor, the only available seat is at the bad. I arrive, walking to the back, ruffling papers and all that irritating LATE ARRIVAL nonsense. Anatomical sciences is the class. Time to play the mum card, I'm afraid. I explain that I have a temporary childcare problem that I am working to resolve. I've asked three other parents at the school to watch them for 10 minutes a day, thing is we are all late, so this hasn't worked at all yet. Bad start.

The power is switched on at the school and I stay until the end of my day. Thankfully, there were no labs (always at the end of the day) and I could pick them up from school.

Next day, LATE AGAIN. This time by 15 minutes. The shocker this day, is arriving at Physics (i'm doing an extra year of science) to be given a test. Well, let's just say abysmal was the word. It has been 20 years since my lasy physics class. AT this stage, I'm thinking "WHY DID THEY LET ME ON THIS COURSE!!". Luckily, nearly everyone else did to. I've spent the past few days swotting up.

OK, now to today. I wake at 5am, determined NOT TO BE LATE today. Not at ANY COSTS. The bus we get takes normally 20 minutes. Due to timing, I normally get the 8am bus, arrive at the girls school at 8.25am and wait 30 mins for the school to open. Today, we get to the bus stop at 7.45am. Bus arrives about 8am. IT TAKES one hour, 15 minutes to arrive, with another 7 minute walk up a VERY steep hill. It is pouring with rain. I mean pouring, I've lost my umbrella and I am soaked to the bone. The girls are crying, they are wet, tired and we are LATE AGAIN. No I am someone who is always early for things, I HATE BEING LATE. So, I'm not even at their school until around 9.15. I'm cold, tired and throughly Peed off. Arrive at my lecture, this time at 9.29am. This time, I am nearly in tears, wet, cold and frustrated. I sit there for the next 20 minutes and go home on the bus (30 minutes), get changed and come back for physics again. The day ends with parent teacher conferences and home at about 6pm. Cook dinner, bath and bed for the girls. I'm now drinking a large cool beer and not studying tonight. I've called every childcare resource, as I just need 15 minutes of care (and a reliable bus, preferably a car ASAP). I knew it was going to be tough, I didn't anticipate these problems, lateness and bad weather. Not to mention being a single mother during the week. Getting a car has moved to the top of the list, without it we cannot function. Can't yet buy my text book$$$$, so am studying in the library. The course is GREAT, feels totally and utterly bizarre. The medics are a close knit team (there are 15 of us on this premed course) and 300 in total intake this year.

This is long, but feels good to purge. Tomorrow, is another day. I am going to try AGAIN to make my 9am class, by 9am. Not sure how this works but I'm doing 3 sets of 40 credits (anatomical science, physics and chemistry). I do around 9 hours of labs per week, 6 hours of anatomical scinece and 5 hours of physics, 6 hours of chemistry, plus other tutorials.

More soon...

5 weeks since my last post...
Phew.

Well, short story is I am passing. I'm getting through, just 4 weeks until the end of the first term. It still feels bizarre to call myself a medical student, but I am.

I am exhausted, physically and mentally. But it is all worth it. My brain is fuddled and jammed with 'stuff'!!! So much and so little time to do it. I've maade changes to our lifestyle which enables some improvements. I bought a car, a cheap old thing that shudders every time is starts, but it gets us there. The bus thing got so bad that we were leaving the house at 7.30am to get to school by 9am. Any later and we were late, after several days of lateness and the threat of a report to social services looming (about persistent lateness of my girls), we resorted to leaving in the dark and cold for a 3 MILE JOURNEY!! We could actually walk it in that time. Some nights we didn't get home till 7pm. It was all too much for me and my girls (four and six). The simple purchasae of a car has changed our life. We leave at about 8.20 am and return via a 20 minute car journey. I could scream in happiness!!! This has given me time, so I can study more and spend m0re time with my girls. My husband returns about 9pm on Friday and then leaves after dinner Sunday. It's hard, but like anything we make it work. We have routine. Friday night is movie night, popcorn, and waiting up for daddy.

Unfortunately, my dream of keeping weekends free NEVER happened. I drew the short straw and have to have 2 pieces of work done by Monday, which are given to me on Friday.

I'm making it to my classes most days, I'm about 5-10 minutes late, but they understand (many of them).

Today is the first day I realized that I am actually in medical school and going to be a doctor. I've not allowed myself to recognise this.. I've been too busy.

My classmates are an interesting bunch, I like them all. I do feel like a square peg. I know of only one other mother.

Our stuff arrives in port on Friday. I've lived four months without our possessions. I cannot WAIT TO SEE THEM AGAIN. We are still living out of a suitcase! Things will start to feel normal again soon. The shipping was a nightmare and they held our stuff hostaage until we paid another 150% on top of what we already paid. Then we didn't hear from them. Let's hope that it all arrives in tact. Never again, never again.

Last week I attended the funeral of my dear uncle. He was taken ill one day before we left America and given 1 week to live about 8 days after we arrived. I was lucky to see him a few days after coming home. They are special memories. But he exceeded the odds and died 3 months after he one week prognosis. He fought a tough battle with courage and bravery. Our family reunited for the funeral last Tuesday. Saturday I was summoned to see my ailing grandfather. We all went to the hospital and I said my goodbyes. He was barely conscious but I got a smile from him. Our family is bracing ourselves for another event. Miraculously, no one in our family has died. My uncle was the first. My grandfather is in his late nineties. Both attended my university.

Enough now, but wanted to provide an update. Thanks for your messages.

I choose a hard path - but nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Well, I made it! I finished my first term, I didn't fail anything. In fact, miraculously, I even started to score very high grades at the end. But there's no rest for the wicked. I have exams first day back on Friday, Sat and Monday. Given that this is my only week with no class and the girls, I must study all week. About 60% fail some of these exams, so the outlook isn't good.

My grandfather died a week or so after my uncle. So we reunited again, for another huge family funeral. Grief took signficant hold for me this time, I was very close to my grandpa. May he rest in peace.

I am surrounded by boxes and boxes and boxes of our stuff. I have to resist the urge to unpack as I have too much work to do. I'm slowing getting through it all, and we may be done sometime in February!! Still, we managed to get a Christmas tree up and the girls are much happier. I have also successfully managed to get them in a new school. While this is another unsettling experience for them, things will be better in the long run.

In the meantime, we have now been in the human dissection room and met with some dear folk who left themselves to medical science - THANK YOU. What an extraordinary gift they do. I've been memorizing the cranial nerves like nobodies business, facial bones and loads more. I'm reading Stiff which is BRILLIANT. I also highly recommend Bill Bryson's SHort History of Nearly Everything. DOn't forget to click on teh MomMD linke when you go shopping aat Amazon! These would make great gifts.

My skin is terrible, stress spoils it, I sleep not that much. My friends are all mostly 19, but it's great. LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LOVE IT!!