Taking a break...maybe permanently

Hello all!

I have been thinking long and hard about this and I have finally come to a decision. My food allergies have been quite a burden recently. I've been working long hours and really struggling with the basics of feeding myself, let alone coming up with creative and interesting ways to feed myself. It's not worth sharing the nights when I take a can of cream of broccoli soup and mix it with some barley and eat that. I haven't had time to bake or even flip through the variety of recipes I've collected from my myriad sources, let alone cook them.

So I really have nothing to share with y'all. Therefore, I'm taking a break from blogging. It may be permanent. Some of the recent life changes I've been through may mean that I permanently struggle with food and resort on the same five or ten recipes.

The food allergies themselves are also wearing me down. I have no reserves when I get sick, and while I can recover, it takes longer each time from each illness. I am more susceptible to vitamin deficiencies with very little recourse on what to do about them. I suffer every time I eat something I shouldn't, and the effects are lasting longer.

It really boils down to the fact that I don't have the energy to be upbeat and positive about my allergies right now and I don't need to share all the downsides with you all the time. So I'm taking a break. It may  be forever, it may just be a few months. Who knows.

Please keep sending me recipes! I will get to them...eventually. :)

vitamins

So I may have mentioned that while I was traveling, I thought I was likely anemic. Hey, anyone would get short of breath climbing the stairs of St. Paul's, but getting short of breath going up the first ten? Not likely. I persevered and got to the top to see a fabulous view, but it lodged in my brain and I thought about it in some down moments.

the pano from my iPhone from the top of St. Paul's dome

I circled back around it a lot. I have problems with vitamin intake in general because of a not very varied diet, but I knew it was worse when I was traveling. Despite lots of fresh fruits while I was in Jamaica, there were probably days I went without vegetables. I did eat goat while I was there, but I can't say I ate it that frequently to get the vitamins and mineral from it.

So I resumed taking my vitamins when I got back to the States. I isolated a headache one afternoon, and then the next, and next. I eat out very infrequently when I'm just at home, so I could NOT think of anything I had eaten. I had however taken my vitamin every day. So I had unhappily determined that my vitamin was the cause of the allergic reaction, since it wasn't a one-off headache.

I tried to vary my diet, but y'all can imagine it's not that easy to do. Major wakeup call recently when I did a quick blood test and found out I was still dangerously close to official anemia. I had a friend recommend a 'natural' vitamin for me, so I tracked it down.

As you might imagine, finding such an item involved an organic grocery store. Not a bad place for me to check out (I almost found bread I could buy in the store!), but an entire aisle of vitamins? I ended up sitting on the floor reading all the different labels. What about this multivitamin? What about the prenatals? Hmm, maybe just these iron pills...

I loved the transparency of the labelling on these 'natural' vitamins. I am a doctor. I can interpret all kinds of things. I loved seeing 'brown rice' and 'yeast' labelled, in addition to the soy or gluten you see on the labels on the vitamins that Giant and Walmart and Kroger carry. BUT what about the B vitamin complex that simply lists that the B vitamin is bonded to S. cerevisiae. Hands up--how many people know that's yeast?

You see, after nearly three years of this, I read every 'new' label twice. Once to scan it, then twice if I don't spot anything. A third time before I do anything with it in my kitchen--you would all be surprised at how often I catch things that third time. And I almost walked out of the store with these pills before I noticed that bonding thing, because it was up in the 'percent' section of the food label.

I ended up with simply iron pills. Chewable though. And considering I've recently and unhappily added raspberries to the list, the fact that they have raspberry leaves in them means I have to take them before I go to bed so I miss the headache and am only slightly nauseous when I wake up.

My life is so grand sometimes...consider this: there are NO vitamins that I can likely take...so what if I wanted to get pregnant? Also, trying to feed me and a fetus? How the hell is that going to work?

I leave you with that super awesome thought.

Happy Fourth of July!

Okay so back to the whole food concept. :)

It's the Fourth of July, Independence Day here in America and I totally started my day off with a pot of tea straight from Piccadilly, London. A nod to the Boston Tea Party, really. However, I am fully prepared to spend the rest of my day in my red, white, and blue and enjoy my version of America's summertime fare--a black bean burger.

Some of you may have heard me lament my ability to buy any of the fake meat products on the market due to the yeast being used as a preservative. So my mom and I embarked on an effort to find something that could work as a 'burger' and we played around with a black bean burger recipe. Many use egg to help bind the beans today, so obviously that's got to be tweaked. Some use rice as a filler. No go there too. Interestingly, we stumbled on to barley as a substitute. They still may fall apart, but it's the best I've got.

Black Bean Burgers

1 can black beans
1/4-1/2 c cooked barley
Spice (Hamburger spice is an option, but whatever works for you)
1/4 c corn

Drain and rinse can of black beans. Mash with pastry blender. Add cooked barley and spice. Mash more with pastry blender. Add corn. Mix and make into patties. Fry/saute til slightly browned.

Obviously however big you make your patties can determine how many you make. For me, it's usually between four to six. I make mine a little smaller because I also can't eat the store-bought hamburger buns, so I make them biscuit sized. But whatever works.

It would probably all make you  laugh to look at my version of the hamburger: Pillsbury biscuit split in half, black bean burger oozing out the side, a slice of cheese melting over all, and Pam-kosher-ketchup in there too. Usually one of the messiest meals I eat, simply because it's so cobbled together with a little hope and love trying to keep it from falling apart. But it's so incredibly awesome to have a burger to eat--they're one of the few things I truly, truly miss.

So enjoy those fireworks (if you're not rained out) and burgers today, as we celebrate life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

[Query: did Jefferson use the Oxford comma? Hmm...quick search tells me no...]

Wandering, part 2: Scotland and England

I should probably mention that I have changed the way I make and take tea after this trip. Some of you may be aware that I am NOT a coffee drinker; going to the plantation in Jamaica and sipping the Blue Mountain Coffee is the exception that proves the rule, and I will still only say that the Blue Mountain Coffee, widely regarded as some of the best in the world is merely the best of a bad bunch. I am and will always be a tea drinker, and we've often sat at family dinners with the tea pot rather than the coffee pot. Regardless, I now have my loose leaf tea from Fortnum and Mason's (Royal Wedding Breakfast blend, in honor of my love for Will and Kate) and a collection of strainers. Also, lots of scones have been consumed during this process and I will endeavour to make some replicas and see if any of them turn out well. Also, attempting to make clotted cream in the US...that will be interesting. Keep posted!

Regardless, I left off when I left King's Cross to Edinburgh. This was my first real train trip (besides the one to Windsor, which was about half an hour) and so I was quite intrigued by the idea. I love train travel now and wish we used it more in the US, but that's a whole 'nother thing (also our country is FAR bigger than Great Britain!). I made it to Edinburgh about midday and tracked down my hostel, learning quickly about how Edinburgh is built on a volcanic site and one end of the city is at the top of the hill and the rest is all downhill. AKA Edinburg Castle is at the top, Holyrood House is at the bottom and enjoy your exercise. The hostel was incredibly well placed along the Royal Mile, and I was charmed to walk past the infamous At World's End tavern while locating the hostel.

I quickly set off to the National Museum of Scotland, which I was disappointed in because it wasn't what I  had thought it would be, but there were some treasures there--Dolly the sheep has been stuffed and is there, copies of Harry Potter, and a walkman from Sony is on the wall in one exhibit, which made me feel old.

Headed out of there and went to the Elephant House cafe, which is where many writers have written stories--most famously J.K. Rowling. Delicious lunch--bacon and brie baked potato (tattie).

I then headed down the Royal Mile, taking advantage of the good weather to go to Arthur's Seat and climb it. Arthur's Seat is near Holyrood House and it's 251m or 823 feet high. I am not a mountain climber. I also had my bag with all my electronics in it (the hostel can't guarantee security so I often wandered around with all kinds of expensive things in my capacious bag/purse). I also did not have tennis shoes on. I made it, however, not without much cursing and pausing to 'take photos' aka catch my breath (I was/am likely anemic from the travelling and lack of iron and B vitamins in my diet while in Jamaica and then London--there were rather annoying signs popping up as I travelled and I tried ignoring them, but I resumed my vitamins when I got home).

Not at the peak yet, but a nice view of the Firth of Forth beyond the city

Triumphant that I made it, wind attempting to knock me over

I totally bought an ice cream at the bottom and I know that guy must make bank by positioning himself there. It was absolutely delicious. Also, I popped in and out of all the tourist shops on my way back up the Royal Mile, looking for a hat of some sort to control the hair/wind situation. I am a MacDougall descendant, and named for my great-grandma 'Mac' (if anyone's ever noticed the L engraved on a necklace I wear, it's hers and it's for my middle name Louise). I tracked down a tam, which makes some appearances at Loch Ness.

I also learned that the MacDougall motto is 'Conquer or die.' Rock on.

I headed to Edinburgh castle in the rainy morning, starting up the hill and planning to work my way down in the afternoon. Nice stories about the Bruce and Wallace, a very moving National Scottish Memorial there. Also, a fun little exhibit to the bagpipers attached to the armies over the years and also to some of the memorable Scottish platoons over the years. Very moving history and very current, as they've an exhibit on the Afghanistan and Iraqi conflicts.

Dried out and picked up a friend from the hostel and we headed to Holyrood House. It's the palace the Queen uses in the summer for vacation, but it's also famously where Bonnie Prince Charlie stayed during the '45 Jacobite rebellion. I loved that they had a painting of him on the wall in the dining room, like 'no hard feelings, Charlie.' The Brits can feel that way, since they defeated the rebellious Jacobite.

It's also fun because I had forgotten that the Holyrood was one of the palaces that contains one of those collections of paintings where the artist had to make up how the ancestors look and make them all look the same, so that the king had a family on the walls. That was funny to realize.

The palace was built around an abbey, and the ruins were beautiful. As were the gardens. And the forecourt was where Zara Phillips had her wedding reception! Yay for more royal weddings.

The abbey ruins

Playing in the gardens ;)

Tracked down some whiskey ice cream on the way back to the hostel, and let me tell you: it gave me a buzz. No joke.

Headed to Stirling the next day, a light day on my schedule. Stirling Castle is famous for Mary, Queen of Scots being crowned there and it was really built up by her father. It's also very close to the site of William Wallace's stand at Bannockburn, and also Robert the Bruce had some history in the area--there's a very strategic ford there. Bonnie Prince Charlie also was there briefly. Anyway, the castle is nice. What was nicer was, it being Sunday, the bells in the Church of the Holy Rude next door were ringing all morning. After I got out of the palace, I headed there.

Standing in the spot where Mary, Queen of Scots was crowned

It was a beautiful church, and where James VI was crowned long before he eventually became James I of England.

Off to Inverness in the morning, straight to Loch Ness to go 'Nessie' spotting. Not really, actually--I'm not much of a proponent of the myths (isolated creatures don't go through evolution and may retain interesting features...that's all I'm saying), but of course you have to go out on the Loch!

Like I said, rocking the MacDougall tam. It was once again quite windy and chilly, but I manfully sat at the top of the boat and enjoyed the views of the Loch. Just like I enjoyed the views of the Loch later in the day from Urquhart Castle, some ruins on the edge of the Loch.

I will also say that I was really proud of myself this day--I have never had to catch the bus in America, yet I managed it in Scotland! I looked up the schedule, found the different departure and return spots and times and bought my ticket and everything.

The next morning, I headed out to Culloden. Anyone familiar with the Jacobites (or even just Dragonfly in Amber, the second Outlander book) will know about Culloden. It's the last battle fought on the British isles, and it was a civil war. Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Duke of Cumberland, the leaders on either side, were cousins. 1500 died, and all but 50 of them were Jacobites--and they're buried on the battlefield. As such, they treat the battlefield like the graveyard it is and it was a nice change from how we do things in America. Also, the tour guide dresses like the Government forces in the morning and a Jacobite in the afternoon.

I started working my way south after Culloden, stopping overnight in York. At this point, I gave up the ghost on one of my pairs of shoes--I tossed them. I'd ended up walking my way through them and with one real day left in my trip, I got rid of them. There were puncture holes from Arthur's Seat in them too!

So York...went into their Minster. It's nice, beautiful and stunning stained glass. It's amazing to consider their wall of kings ends with Henry VI. As in, mid-1500s. And there were a good 10-12 of them up there. I also climbed their tower, 275 steps. Not the view of London and I was rather hampered by having an asthma attack from the cold air, but it was still a beautiful church.

Ran to catch my train to Chesterfield (which will always make me laugh--I live in Chesterfield in the US!) and to Chatsworth House, aka Pemberley! I had really wanted to go to Highclere Castle, aka Downton Abbey, but they were totally sold out, being fairly new to the tourism game and the massive popularity of Downton. However, the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire have been at it for awhile. Their house is massively impressive--400 years of collecting and it's all over the walls. Artwork, sculpture, books, furniture...your jaw is dropped throughout the duration of the tour.

It is also where the new (2005) version of Pride and Prejudice was filmed.

Anyone recognize the tiles, from when Lizzie enters the house?

The Matthew MacFayden/Darcy bust Lizzie contemplates...they left it as a souvenir at the house

I actually had to catch the bus in Chesterfield to a little town in Derbyshire, then walk 2km to the house through the gardens/parkland attached to the house--the estate was originally 1000 acres. It's phenomenal. It was also my Lizzie Bennett moment, strolling the grounds in a ramble.

Can you imagine living there?!

Anyway, I reversed my trip via walk, bus, to the train station, but continued to King's Cross in London. I met my cousin there for dinner and drinks and spent the last of my pounds (I literally came home with 22 pence). We also went specifically to a pub for Apple Toffee Cider that was delicious and made in Somerset--not that I haven't tried to track it down in the US!

He walked me to my hostel near the train station and we said our goodbyes. I finally had a top bunk in this hostel and that was rather not fun, but it was only for one night, since I headed out in the morning. Couldn't buy an whiskey in the duty free that I couldn't get in the US or could afford, so I bought some Pimm's and embarked on a lovely 8 hour plane flight home with screaming children. But mommy was waiting and we GPSed our way out of DC traffic.

And that was that. I came home, headed down to VA beach to clean up Mom's condo for the summer season, then went and graduated med school (no big deal, y'all *wink wink*), packed up my moving truck and unpacked it in a new apartment. Went back and got my cat. Spent this week transferring my permanent residence to the new state and unpacking. I finally have finished hanging most of the pictures on the wall, and am waiting on the first paycheck to buy some real furniture.

But I have lots of recipes to share, once I get back to a calmer life here. No more international travel, the passport is safely stowed. I promise.

These were the trips of a lifetime. I will forever be changed by my experiences in Jamaica, both as a physician and a person. It's eye opening to consider the developing world...it will color how I act forever. And then there's the UK...my trip of a lifetime. It was the South Africa trip airline tickets switched over to London, and all the money I've socked away from various grandparents--to see everything. Absolutely everything. I spent over $300 on admission tickets alone, but I have absolutely no regrets and a heart full of memories. And 1600 pictures to remind of all the good times and steps climbed.

Now on to the new adventure of being a doctor.

Wandering across Great Britain, part 1: London

Apologies for the long delay! I have been quite, quite busy. I shall endeavour (hint hint!) to make up for that with a long entry now that has been weeks in the making: my journeying across the great island of Great Britain.

So to recap, I made it back from Montego Bay at 2am on Sunday morning. I left for London 6pm eastern time on Wednesday. I took care of all the odds and ends of being out of the country and getting a new job in those three days, in addition to buying a new watch because I had ruined mine swimming in the Caribbean.

Mom dropped me off at Dulles and I easily made it through security and to my gate for my lovely Virgin Atlantic flight to London. An overnight flight, I had anticipated sleeping and maybe I did okay for not having someone sitting next to me, but it was still rather rough. They take excellent care of you on Virgin flights, though.

Made it through immigration easily, though I can tell you they did not approve of 'just visiting' as an appropriate answer for a young woman travelling alone. The looks that I got! Luckily, I have a cousin in London and was able to claim him as a reason to visit. Managed to find the tube okay and get on it and to Bayswater, which was where my hostel was. It was very well placed along Bayswater Road, right across from Kensington Gardens. Dropped off my LLBean backpack containing all my belonging and set right back out to the glories of London.

It was raining, by the way. How apropos!

As a note as I go along, I had a Travelcard and a London Pass. What are they? The travelcard was prepurchased for one week of travel throughout London, free on any public transport. The London Pass was a pass into specific places of interest; it also allowed me to bypass lines, get discounts, and frequently free audio guides.

Also note: I have a degree in history, focused on British history. That will be relevant; it's also how I can remember so many details and also why I saw so many things. I thought I had broken my foot at one point, it was so painful and I had done so much walking (I hadn't, but ankle braces came in handy!).

Onwards! Rainy, rainy London. Where else to start but Trafalgar Square? Specifically, the Charing Cross tube station so you come up right by Nelson's Column. Nothing like the experience of walking into bright Times Square, but quintessentially London with the dreary rain and red buses and black taxis everywhere.

I walked down Whitehall, passing 10 Downing Street, the Cenotaph, Household Cavalry and Horse Guards...lots of Governmental buildings as you're heading in the general direction of Parliament and the Palace. I crossed over at St. James Park to walk Pall Mall, bypassing some giant pelicans specifically owned by the Queen. They have their own fountain designed by Tiffany. Anyway, I walked down Pall Mall to Buckingham Palace.

I was attempting to be there for the changing of the guards at 11:30--but that was quickly derailed. Not because I'm not tall enough to see over the people who were staking out the gates, but because they cancelled it because of the rain! So I missed out on that spectacle, and my plans were slightly derailed.

I wander around for a bit, and eventually tracked down the Imperial War Museum--Churchill's War Rooms. It's the underground bunker from which Churchill ran the war effort and it's been left the way it was in 1945, or recreated as such. Rather chilling to see that and a reminder of how WWII touched Great Britain in a very personal way, as it didn't touch America. This was something that would recur all across the country, as there are markers of bombings and plaques for all the lost soldiers in every town and church.

I also hit the National Gallery, which is a bit like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in its vastness and collection of notables. Luckily, I collected a guide which was their version of the top 100 and just circled through those. It was fun to begin the seeing pictures I've only seen in textbooks in person....there's the notable painting of Charles I on horseback, and it's absolutely huge! (like Washington Crossing the Delaware huge!)

Next door is the National Portrait Gallery, where you start at the top with the Tudors and Stuarts and work your way down to Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge. It was like walking through a yearbook, seeing all those paintings of monarchs I recognize and many, many paintings I've seen in textbooks throughout the years.

I was really starting to get tired at this point, so I headed back to Bayswater and my hostel. I was in one of those old row houses that had been converted at some point, and I'm pretty sure I was up in the servant's quarters at the very top of the house--about five floors up.

I headed to Westminster and then Greenwich as planned for Friday, but that was not to be. I walked up to Westminster Abbey, and I was not happily surprised to see closed for services sign on the front door! But I'm flexible, I'll head to Greenwich in the morning and then back to Westminster in the afternoon. This was not to be, I realized slightly later, as Westminster closes at about 3. But we'll get to that.

It was another rainy, chilly, and windy day in Londontown. But I was embracing it for every experience possible--so I got on a boat to head down the Thames to Greenwich. Which was of course a lovely experience as I froze on the observation deck--all kinds of museums and monuments (including the oldest in the world, Cleopatra's Needle, once in Turkey, now in London). You can see the Traitor's Arch, now bricked in, but imagine entering the Tower that way. They pointed out the spot where the Mayflower was berthed before taking off for the 'New World;' there's also the spot where Pepys watched London burn. There's St. Paul's dome, Christopher Wren's masterpiece hovering over all of London. Glorious.

Greenwich itself is lovely, and the Royal Observatory is on top of a hill. First of many climbs I did in Great Britain...but I knew I wanted to stand on the Meridian Line. And I did! Also, since it's on top of a hill, it offers a great view of London from St. Paul's down to the Olympic Stadium.

It was on the trip back to Westminster that I realized that it would be closed, and I was scanning my itinerary for movable trips. Oh! The British Library and the British Museum! I could do that. Also, I could get off at Tower Pier and scope it out for the upcoming visit to the Tower, and then go to the BL in Bloomsbury. Done.

I am still in raptures over the glorious treasures in the British Library. I even bought the coffee table book so I can look at them myself in the years to come. I wrote down what they had on display, all originals:

Thomas Tallis

Henry Purcell

JS Bach

Handel

Mozart

Arne (the original copy of God Save the Queen)

Gluck

Beethoven

Chopin

Debussy

Bartok

Stravinsky

Puccini

Elger (Pomp and Circumstance)

Beowulf

Thomas Wyatt

Laurence Sterne

Sir Walter Raleigh

Austen

Shelley

Dickens

Charlotte Bronte

Hardy

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Wilde

William Morris

Auden

Plath

Olivier's Macbeth script

Also:

warrant for the execution of the Earl of Essex

speech from George III

Lady Jane Grey AND Elizabeth I's prayer book (Elizabeth had amazing handwriting)

letters from Princess Elizabeth to Edward VI, from Newton, from Cromwell, from Darwin, from Napoleon

Edward VI's biblical translation

letters from Queen Mary I to Thomas Seymour, and Henry VIII to Philip of Burgundy

and oh yeah A GUTENBERG BIBLE. oh hey there's the MAGNA CARTA. Fleming's notebooks on the discovery of penicillin, Shakespeare's first folio, da Vinci's notes....

So I'm a musician, a scientist, a reader, and a historian...can you see why I was in love? I'm sighing over the Tyndale bible, and then there's the Gutenberg bible. I was flipping out inside.

And it only got better. So my senior year at William and Mary (and they got to provide lots of geeky moments too), I did a paper on the development of public health in Victorian Britain, which was started through the work of John Snow and cholera epidemics.

I was checking out a brief exhibit on science, and I turn around...and there is John Snow's original cholera map. THE ORIGINAL. Talk about primary sources!

I was duly excited. I was in raptures. So then I headed to the British Museum. Not so much in raptures. I had my first cream tea there, which means tea and scones with clotted cream and jam. Refreshing myself to check out the Parthenon that's in England, not Greece, and also the Rosetta Stone. It's a reminder of all the great archaeology that the British have done, but not exactly my cup of tea (pun fully intended).

So then it's Saturday, which I fully believe will be one of the coolest days of my life. The sun was up and it was glorious weather in London. Early start to get to the Tower before the hordes descend, and I enjoyed it. Lots about the history as a palace, not so much as its role as a prison, except for mentioning Raleigh. A small plaque to the princes, and a beautiful memorial to those executed there. But really, a showplace for the crown jewels, the armor of all the kings (including several sets that show how big Henry VIII was and became), and some really awesome Latin graffiti.

I headed up the Tower Bridge next--I'd gone under it, only right to go up it (plus free access with the London pass). I tracked down an old medical museum, which was highly disappointing except it also allowed me the track down the Southwark Cathedral, the Clink, and the Golden Hinde. I got lunch and sat overlooking the Thames, with St. Paul's everpresent dome on the other side.

I had reserved tickets to see Much Ado About Nothing in the actual Globe theater. To see a play in Shakespeare's playhouse, written by the bard, performed in true Elizabethan style with singing and music, and to do it all from the groundling perspective--priceless! 

Trekked across the Millennium Bridge (which Facebook would like to call the Harry Potter bridge!) towards St. Paul's, down Fleet Street towards Covent Garden, had a little Eliza Doolittle moment, down some great shopping around Covent Garden to the Leicester Square tube station because the Covent Garden one was closed. My feet were killing me, but I had seen London.

Sunday: off to Windsor! My first real train trip, and it departed from none other than Paddington station--and yes, there's a shop filled with merchandise about the bear. Windsor is spectacularly castle looking, and apparently the monarchs have made it look that way on purpose, and some really cool collections--random things, like the bullet that killed Admiral Nelson at Trafalgar. Pretty. I also had my first truly English dish of food here--a sausage pastry. Not that I can't get them in America, but we don't eat them like they do there (I ate meat while I was travelling to make it easier on myself).

I met up with my cousin that afternoon, and we did a mini-pub crawl. It was amazing to consider drinking alcohol early in the afternoon and also to not have to think about driving! He also showed me the Savoy while we were wandering, before we ended up hitting a local pub and I got to order bangers and mash. :) Also, he introduced me to Pimm's. Amazingness.

Onwards! Monday! Bank holiday Monday for the working British, just another day for me. Started out in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, wondering at the people swimming in the Serpentine. Fascinated by the duckling everywhere. And highly amused by the rider on Rotten Row, just like they would have done in the Regency. 

I found my way to Harrods...also mindboggling, like swimming in the Serpentine. Bought some food to take with me throughout my day because that was about all I could afford. I head over to the Victoria and Albert and was rather disappointed (though they have a cool glass sculpture in the entry hall) because the exhibit I wanted to see was closed for renovations, but they did have a temporary exhibit on Wedding Dresses, 1776-2014. I loved it. I knew a lot about how Victoria had changed traditions, but it was still cool. They had Camilla's dress from her wedding to Charles, near Gwen Stefani's. :) They also have a generally cool exhibit on fashion throughout the years, which was enjoyable.

Did a quick walk through of the Natural History and Science museum, and nerded out at Watson and Crick's DNA model.

Headed over to Kensington Palace...lovely. W&M lived there, and it was where Victoria lived pre-Queenship, and they have a nice display of the room where she held her first meeting as Queen, including the dress she was wearing. Also, fabulous fashion exhibit of QE2's dresses from the 50s on. Quite the fashionmonger, the Queen.

I met my cousin Joe again for tea at the Orangery at Kensington Palace; it's quite famous for their tea. And they do it right--sandwiches, scones and clotted cream/jam, and desserts. Delicious! I have no idea why anyone would want to put mint and cucumber on sandwiches, but the ham and mustard and salmon and cream cheese were delicious (I premedicated against the allergens, fyi, but did not tempt fate with the egg and cress sandwich). Joe and I had a serious discussion about whether it should be jam then cream or cream then jam on the scones, and then we devoured the delicious desserts. Yum.

My mom calls this Where's Waldo went to Kensington

We wandered around Kensington for a bit, before I went off to walk around the City for a bit and then on a Jack the Ripper walking tour (walks.com, highly recommended!). They take you around to where the prostitutes were killed, showing you those narrow walkways and gates in the East End, and explaining how he could have gotten away. Gory and fun, especially for anyone familiar with the stories.

This is now on to Tuesday, where I made it back to Westminster. Glorious weather is continuing, and beautiful against the stonework of Westminster, Parliament, and Big Ben.

Westminster is glorious beautiful, as anyone who watched Will and Kate's wedding will know. The fabulous thing are the tombs of all the famous people buried there--did you know that Mary I and Elizabeth I share a tomb? And share a room with Mary, Queen of Scots? Who knew that Henry VII could create such a beautiful Lady's Chapel. And the genius buried there--Newton, Darwin...the poets and author in the Poet's corner...

Off to trek up the Monument's 311 steps, Christopher Wren's monument (and yes, it is called The Monument) to the Great Fire of 1666. Straight up, straight down. Whew.

A little refreshment before tackling St. Paul's--Victoria sponge and ginger beer. A little too gingery for me, but enough calories to fuel me for the 528 stairs to go.

St. Paul's in also a wonderment...Christopher Wren is a genius. Truly. And then there's the touches, like leaving the transept that was bombed in WW2 undecorated (there was a fire brigade stationed in St. Paul's every single night to prevent it being burned down--Winston Churchill knew not to let St. Paul's burn. And there's a plaque to those who protected it). Wellington and Nelson are both buried there, and Nelson is buried in Wolsley's sarcophagus! A great number of scientists, including Alexander Fleming, are buried in the chapel and that's also where Christopher Wren is buried (Lector si monumentum requiris circumspice!).

And then I climbed it. The dome, that is. All 528 steps.

I trekked over to the Museum of London for a bit, but went back to St. Paul's for evensong, which was quite the experience. The music was absolute phenomenal and the acoustics...it was spiritual and would have been so even if it hadn't been a church.

Okay onwards to Wednesday...the Cotswolds and Oxford. Cutesy little English villages and kissing gates and all that....fish and chips for lunch...and the glories of Oxford. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in Oxford. It's glorious, I'll not deny, but it's not like the scholarship is emblazoned on the buildings. More Wren architecture, and then there's the spots where Harry Potter was filmed...that was fun. Also briefly ducked into the Museum of the History of Science to check out a chalkboard Einstein wrote on while he gave a lecture at Oxford and also the equipment of Florry's purification and manufacture of penicillin (taking Fleming's work of the discovery of penicillin and making it the antibiotic we all know).

Thursday was my last day in London (day 8 of the trip, if you're keeping track), and I wandered. I headed to Grosvenor Square and walked up Brook Street, like I was in a Regency romance. I wandered up and down Oxford Street, Bond Street, Savile Row, and past all those designers...lusting after Alexander McQueen and Jimmy Choos, laughing that Tiffany's is beckoning at the end of one of the streets, imagining I could run into Kate doing a little shopping. I detoured into Soho to actually see the famous pump of the cholera epidemic, of John Snow's work and my paper in college... and then I wander through Piccadilly. I went into Fortnum and Mason's. I am a huge tea drinker (before I even got to England!) and I bought a LOT in F&M (I also bought a lot at the Globe, so that tells you what kind of souvenirs I have). I also had tea at F&M, because why not. No picnic hampers for me, but I could imagine picking one out.

By the way, the tea blend I bought for myself--Royal Wedding Breakfast.

Continued on to Hatchard's, a bookstore that has been there since the 1700s. I walked out without anything, but that took some willpower. Wandered back over to Buckingham and the queen was in residence this time! Said my goodbyes and headed to King's Cross...and platform 9 3/4.

I took 1600 photos during my trip and that is the only one my mom wants. :)

I wandered home, then back out to Westminster for the sunset photos of Parliament all lit up before setting an early alarm for my train to Scotland!

trading suitcases

Acclimating back to the States is a very different thing that I thought.

The insomnia is crazy--no problems almost the entire time I was in Jamaica, but back in the US and the dark circles are back. My mom pointed that out this morning. :( the one thing is funny about this--I had very vivid dreams in Jamaica and they have definitely continued! But this all probably a result of getting about four hours of sleep after I got home very early Sunday morning, and just not being able to 'catch up.'

The carpet feels SO odd under my feet too! And every so often I catch sight of how tan I am in contrast to my shirt sleeves, which makes me laugh. Also, trading in tank tops and swimsuits for sweaters and my rain coat...not so fair. :) I am so cold here, trying to avoid wearing my turtlenecks to be so obviously cold and instead reaching for the lightweight sweaters.

Regardless of all that, I'm really trading up from my rotation-vacation to real vacation. I am packed and ready to take off for London! I'm very happy looking at the forecast though, since it will rain the first day I'm there but looks rather clear for the remaining few days. My trusty umbrella is still prominently packed a la Mary Poppins.

I'm really posting to tell everyone I will not be taking my laptop with me on this trip. I'm really consolidating and basically backpacking it, so I chose to take an extra sweater instead of my laptop. I'm anticipating having good access to WiFi through my iPhone, which I can carry more confidently in England than Jamaica. Plus I don't have to sign any contracts or find an apartment while I'm in Great Britain, so I'm really taking this vacation concept seriously and taking a break from some technology.

As such, pictures will be limited until I come home and upload them all in one burst. You also won't have to deal with the giddy ramblings of a history nerd unleashed on some of the world's greatest historical sites...

In the meantime, try some festivals! They're delicious and very Jamaican. If you can find some Red Stripe and curry goat to drink and eat with them, all the better. I think they taste like funnel cake, but these are more log-like than the thin strips of dough that make up funnel cake.

1 ½ c flour

3 T cornmeal

1 c water

½ t salt

3 T sugar

1 t baking powder

1 t vanilla

Sieve the flour into a bowl and stir in the cornmeal, salt, sugar, and baking powder. Add the vanilla to the water. Add a small amount of water into the mixture, work the water in with your fingertips. Keep adding small amounts of water to the mixture—when half the cup has been added, it should resemble breadcrumbs. Keep adding water until it becomes a firm dough which is only slightly sticky—you should not need the whole cup. If it becomes too sticky, add more flour.

Cover and leave to stand for half an hour.

Divide into eight portions. Knead each portion and roll it into a small sausage shape.

Cover each festival in a mixture of flour and cornmeal.

Deep fry until golden brown.

(Serve with any Jamaican dish. Festival goes very well with jerk dishes and spicy fish recipes where the sweet festivals provide a delicious complimentary taste.)

home!

Whee, I’m back in the States! Though it was not without its difficulties…

It started with one last taxi drive, starting at 9am. I took some pictures with my host family and then I was off! Got to Montego Bay at 11:30 for my 3:15 flight, and I was thinking all would be well and I could change the last bit of Jamaican money back to US and get a good lunch and be ready to fly home. I should have known better! This was Jamaica we’re talking about after all.

The computers were broken. They had to check us in manually. The line, which I was near the front of, took 3.5 hours to get through. The girls in front of me were going to Newark and the family behind me to LAX via Houston. The Houston flight departed first, then Newark, then my flight to Dulles. I was literally the first person in line when they started calling for the Houston flyers—so I let the family go, and then I stood there with a pitiful look on my face until they checked me. They had to label my bag by hand and give me a physical receipt for the cash—no credit card machines.

I got through security after a bit of a laugh—I set off the metal detector, and when they scanned me with the wand, it turned out that it was the underwire on my bra that set it off (way to go, Victoria’s Secret!). 

Grabbed some snacks and found my gate, still optimistic at this point. The computers can’t be down all day, can they?

Oh, they can. The 3:15 flight time passed without any announcement from the staff, but an enterprising traveler asked—there were still 89 people waiting to be checked in. They had filtered through the Houston and Newark travelers, so all the Dulles ones had been waiting in line.

We finally took off at 5:15 or so (which is 6:15 Eastern), and landed at 9:20. They made up a lot of time on the flight, but my connection was departing at 9:50. I hurried off the plane, tapped my foot through the bus trip to the customs terminal, and dashed down stairs in my platform sandals. I was at the front of the line at customs when I saw this:

I took the photo Sunday morning, so don't mind the time at the top.

 

It left EARLY! So there was no rush anymore. I called my mom to see if she wanted to drive up, and she suggested renting a car. Mostly because I was this close to home after six weeks, I wasn’t letting anything hold me up. The lady in front of me was shocked to hear I had been gone that long and gave me a hug for all my troubles after all. She was really sweet, and wanted to hear all about my experiences. They missed their connection to Syracuse, their plane also taking off early.

I had a hotel voucher, but ended up with a rental car instead. It was a miracle I had my driver’s license with me, but I did. Also a miracle—I ended up in a Corolla, which is the car my mom drives some I’m family with its size and the location of all the buttons. It was a 2014, which was weird for me with all the technology.

Let me tell you—after six weeks of no driving AND being on the wrong side of the road, DC traffic at night is not the best way to reacclimate. Seven lanes merging…lights…rain…65mph…good times.

I made it home at 2am. Hot food and mommy hugs were waiting. The sad part is that my internal clock was still going strong—I woke up at 6am.

The carpet feels odd under my feet…I’m so cold in the 60 degree weather…and the food tastes different! But I’m so happy to be home.   

United says I'll get a refund for the missed flight--it's apparently $240 to fly from Dulles to Richmond which is simply ridiculous but I'll take it. :) Plus a potential refund for the rental car. It would come close to totally the entire round trip tickets if I get that all.

Regardless, this is what I got to come home to, so I'll just be grateful for everything that I have.

Off to the UK Wednesday!

medical wards

Well, this is it. my final week! And it's a new ward this week: the medical wards.

Which means general medicine, and I happen to be on the female ward because that's the one that I found first this morning. This part of the hospital is undergoing renovation--so this ward has actually already been renovated. It reminds me ever so slightly of home, too! AKA it actually looks like a more modern ward. There is oxygen on the walls so tubes can be plugged into that. There's still no suction, but there are lights and outlets. There's even a cabinet installed between two of the sets of beds which creates a semi-private room at one end of the ward! Hallelujah! Still no decent sharps box, the blood still goes in a paper slip made envelope and in the box, and the medicines are now kept under the desk instead of in a cabinet.

Interestingly, there's also only fifteen beds. I don't know if this is because the other six beds are used for the psych ward, or because the medical doctors in charge of the wards are often going to consultations on other wards but when I'm used to 35-40 patients per ward, this is far easier to manage. Plus with the new renovations, these fifteen patients get the room they should have because the ward probably used to house 20-30 patients.

Regardless, the medicine is fabulously interesting.

I've had the distinctly memorable experience of seeing Steven's Johnson Syndrome (SJS) and actually also Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis (TEN), the worse cousin of SJS. Basically in SJS your skin only peels to about 30% of your body's surface area, while TEN it's more than 30%. As you can imagine, mortality is quite high. It's a terrible thing to see and watch and know that the patient is likely going to die no matter what you do. So imagine SJS in Jamaica. The dressings that we use in America would cost probably $5,000 a day. That is impossible here--I can't imagine any of them have even SEEN the dressings, let alone consider getting one in Mandeville if there is one in Jamaica at all. So we have to leave the skin in place as a biological dressing; a rather creative solution here but there is always the risk of secondary infection. It's also complicated in this patient by an AIDS diagnosis that the patient is in denial about and thus is not treating. It's a very interesting medical question of how/if the AIDS contributed to the immunologic reaction that is causing the SJS. From what I've seen, she's really not in terrible shape, but time will tell. We definitely need to get IV access on this woman also and while we would have already gotten a central line in America, there isn't even peripheral access here.

There was a woman who is questionably having seizures or tardive dyskinesia, and she's not faking it like some of the other doctors had assumed. When you lift her hand over her face, she lets it hit her in the face. Fakers don't let their hand hit them. She was interesting because she can clearly hear us, but she can't respond.

There's a woman with a herniated brainstem...which in America is steps from brain death if not actually there yet. But they're considering their options here and if she's getting any better--I found this exceptionally odd, in addition to the fact that she's not on any monitors. I have no idea if they do transplantation here, but she would likely be a good candidate.

I mentioned above--no monitors. I haven't seen a single working telemetry monitor in the whole flipping hospital. I've spotted one monitor, but it wasn't working. When you consider the prevalence in America, that would probably be a significant visual difference every healthcare worker would pick up on.

Otherwise, mostly normal stuff here. Diabetic nephropathy, aspiration pneumonia, avascular necrosis from sickle cell crisis...

And then the psych patients. One of whom was wandering the ward and told me I wasn't from the US, but from Canada. There are worse things to be called, eh?

the long week continues...

So we got back on Tuesday night, and I had outreach on Wednesday morning. We (the medical and care volunteers) were going to a primary school to do presentations. I was in the group on nutrition. It’s an interesting topic down here because they have a different version of the food pyramid or food groups, and of course some of the fruits and vegetables down here are different. Vitamins and minerals are luckily the same, so I just did a quick review.

Being in a Jamaican classroom is not at all the same as an American one. I had been warned by some of the teaching volunteers about the differences, but it’s not the same as experiencing it yourself. There is a bell/class schedule, but it’s not always adhered to. The kids often talk through class. They hit each other. They get up and leave and come back. They’re polite enough to say “Yes, miss” to everything I say, but not enough to stop talking and listen to what I have to say.

I can’t even say which classroom was worse, the older or the younger. It’s a good thing we only did the presentation twice, because I likely would have lost my voice having to speak so loudly over all the talking.  The younger ones were rowdy and difficult to even try to keep on task. The older ones, the ten-twelve year olds, make obscenely sexual gestures towards my peers and me.  And I can’t imagine that any of them paid enough attention to remember anything I said.

In fact, I couldn’t help but remark later that a sex ed class would have been much more beneficial. The culture here is an interesting dichotomy of religion and sexuality. Jamaica has the highest number of churches per square mile of anywhere in the world, and they’re always full. In fact, it’s Easter weekend right now and both Friday and Monday were/are public holidays. There’s that side, and then there’s the bars on every corner with voluptuously painted women on them. I was invited to a go-go club last weekend in Negril. I’ve heard that nine year olds are having sex. I see teenagers more commonly on the maternity ward than women in their 20s and 30s. STIs are incredibly prevalent, as is HIV/AIDS. We had to do a c-section on an 18 year old last week because her genital warts were so bad.

It reminds me somewhat of the right-wing Christian conservatives attitude in America, where abstinence only sex education is enough. It’s not. Especially in a country like Jamaica, where people can’t afford to pay for the ultrasound when they’ve got oligohydramnios, how can people afford their children? So why can’t sex education happen so contraception is a possibility? Oral contraceptive pills are available here without a prescription, yet I’ve met women with eight or nine children. Who are my age—27.

It’s just another of the many frustrating things I’ve seen here in Jamaica, and I truly wish there was more we could do to help. Nutrition they may not remember, but if I start talking about sex I’m sure they’d remember. It’s a sticky situation, but one the volunteers were talking about after our presentations.

Thursday it was back in the maternity ward, to lots of jokes about how I must have extended my vacation and “hello, stranger!” I set the record straight and they’re all shocked and sympathetic about our weekend in Negril, but we quickly get down to business. It was a good day of phlebotomy and giving IV medications. I almost put in an IV but we got distracted by hanging blood for the anemic patients.

Josephine left on Friday, so Thursday evening we learned how to make fried dumplings. Very different from the dumplings I’ve had in the US and I’m very excited to know how to make both fried and boiled dumplings when I’m back home.

Things started to take a little tumble downhill on Friday—I woke up not feeling well. It was mild, slightly like I was hungover but I wasn’t. With my food allergies, this isn’t exactly an unexpected reaction because that can be how I feel if I ate something I’m mildly allergic to. In Jamaica, the foods and thus the proteins can be different than what I’ve been exposed to in the US, so I just figured something from dinner was bothering me and that was that. I sat out on the patio with Josephine for a bit and then came inside. She left and I fell asleep.

That’s when I started to figure things were more serious because I don’t sleep during the day, and I woke up feeling quite nauseated. That continued through the night until I eventually fell asleep and woke up this morning feverish and with a headache, but no nausea. It’s a bit scary to consider a differential diagnosis in the Caribbean that includes fever, headache, and nausea. But common things are common, so I’ll forget about the dengue and leptospirosis for now…

At least I got sick on a weekend where I didn’t have firm plans and I have until Tuesday to get better. This time next week, I'll be in Dulles waiting to get to Richmond to be home sweet home!

we made it to negril!

A lot has happened this week, and I will do my best to detail it well.

The time in the hospital has continued to be fabulous, and I appreciate all that I have. It’s interesting to consider some of the questions that the residents ask amongst themselves and also me by extension. It concerns me a little because some of it is very basic step 2 or even step 1 information, and many of them are professing the want to come to the US and thus have taken USMLE.

That all aside, I love going to work and drawing blood and mixing and administering medications. It makes me feel useful, and I’m helping the residents with their work as well as helping the patients. It’s still amazing to me what’s considering doctor’s work here is basic nursing care in the US, but as long as someone’s doing it, it doesn’t really matter.

On Friday, we actually ended up sewing up an episiotomy on a woman who has just delivered. It was critical we sew her up quickly because she was anemic and had been transfused before the delivery and was bleeding a lot. I held an iPhone for a flashlight (as I had the day before on a speculum exam—no lights around here). The intern did it, the midwife showed him where the tear was and then left. I ended up helping him a little (one sterile glove, the other hand holding the phone). The woman was given no pain medication, just a little numbing.  During this process, I realized how little some of these women are told. I don’t think any of these physicians could pass a physical exam board in the US because of the humanistic domain—they tell the patients to hush and behave themselves when they reach out or cry out in pain.

Me and Josephine--the moment of 'we made it to Negril!'

So it was nice to get out of the hospital on Friday and head to Negril. There were four of us going, and after driving on the absolute worst road I’ve been on in Jamaica (and that’s saying a lot!), we made it. It was so fabulous! One of the volunteers who went with us is a millionaire in his home country, and that made for a lot of perks over the weekend—including flaming shots of rum, because if the power’s out, we should light alcohol on fire. It was a very Jamaican experience though. As was swimming in the Caribbean Sea at night—the water’s definitely still warm enough to do that.

Me, Josephine, Debbie, and Mattias

 Saturday was a light day, just enjoying the gorgeous Seven Mile Beach.

We headed to the world famous Rick's Cafe that evening, a bar famous for its cliff diving. No cliff jumping for us, but it was fun to watch. We made friends with the Jamaican staff at our hotel and played cards with them when we returned from Rick’s, learning games from my fellow volunteers and their native countries as well as a Jamaican game.

 

Sunday was a rather unfortunate morning. I had gone back to the room slightly before the other two girls, and I also ended up waking up before them. Josephine and I were sharing a double bed, and she rolled over at 7:30 and asked me what time it was. Promptly getting out of bed, she went to get her phone from the charger and found it was missing. Looking for her handbag, she saw it was also missing. Debbie and I got out of bed to look for it, and Josephine declared that it had been stolen when it was clearly not in the room. I went out to the patio where we’d been playing cards to see if she’d left it there by chance, and alerted the staff there. They checked with security, and as security walked back to the cottage, they spotted her bag in the dirt between our cottage and the next.

There were no signs of breaking and entering, and the girls couldn’t remember locking the door. It’s such a habit, no one could remember; and I had already been in the room when they came in, so I can’t say one way or another.

The very difficult part about some of this is how hard it can be to make international calls on some cell phones. Luckily, Josephine and Mattias are both from Sweden and Mattias had a good working cell to call Sweden—and deactivate the credit cards as well as the SIM card on the phone.

This was being done and security called the police, but we could see Josephine’s wallet on the ground and carefully flipped it over. Her driver’s license and credit card were still intact, though about US$50 had been taken. So some worries abated.

Interlude to comment on the lovely staff—since we had been socializing with them since we’d gotten to Negril on Friday evening, they were so exceptionally friendly with us. They brought coffee and water and let us order breakfast while we’re all hovering around the little cottage of our room. It was amazing of them, and they were also very concerned about us. As we repeated frequently to them and to others, none of us had been assaulted or raped or anything horrific like that so we could get through a robbery.

Before leaving for court, we got a photo with the staff of Roots Bamboo

The police came (in jeans and t-shirts! Good thing for the constabulary vest, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed they were police!) and Josephine described the morning and her phone to them. Something rather miraculous happened then—they said they thought they had ‘something for her.’ They left for a bit (to go back to the station) and brought in a Samsung Galaxy S4, estimated at US$748 we later calculated, which was hers. We clearly identified it.

So at this point, all worries were relieved. Yes, the cash was gone but we will all take a loss of US$50 for everything else!

Josephine and I are wonderful friends for all that we’ve known each other for two weeks, and she and I share a host family. The police had assured us that they would try for a Tuesday trial date, since we were only in Negril for a short period of time. The others would go back to Mandeville, but she and I would stay in Negril until Tuesday (It was too far to go back on Sunday and come back for court on Tuesday). We alerted Projects Abroad and headed to the police station to make a statement. We also let our host mom know and it was so sweet, her reaction. I called her because Josephine’s English was deteriorating by this point and Ingrid was so outraged for us and so concerned. Neither Josephine nor I could talk to our real mothers, but Ingrid is a lovely substitute.

I’ve commented about the lack of computers in the hospital—the same holds true for the police station! I did at least spot one there. But the statement took about three hours to give because of the details required, the handwritten nature of it, and also the struggles with Josephine’s English. She speaks excellent English with very little accent, but under pressure, she deteriorated slightly. I helped, and we eventually made it out of there. The police were so nice (especially after the taxi that dropped us tried to charge us astronomical prices—too bad we’re savvy Jamaican travelers and didn’t fall for it!), taking us back to our hotel via an ATM so Josephine could replace the missing cash.

We moved cottages but stayed at Roots Bamboo (they did offer us a nice discount). The funny thing is the new cottage had a door that was swollen in the door frame, so it made a lot of noise to open it. No breaking and entering without us waking up anymore!

The very nice thing was that Mattias and Debbie had organized us to go snorkeling while Josephine and I were at the police station. It was a lovely change of pace and took all of our minds off the robbery. In fact, I got quite excited because there was an anchor and cannon from the 18^th century along the coral reef. The fish were gorgeous, but the history major in me came out. I dove to the ocean floor to touch the canon, which was clearly oxidizing on the ocean floor. The anchor had coral and algae growing along it, but when you stood on the end of the shaft, you could keep your head over water. It was so cool! I laughed in a carefree manner I can’t remember having done in a long time, it was so awesome a feeling.

On one of the small islands off Negril, near Bloody Bay

We headed back in to pirate stories, and Debbie and Mattias took off for Mandeville. Josephine and I really just calmed down and slept in a little for our day of relaxation on Monday—it felt like playing hooky from work to be there, but court on Tuesday was not easy. We waited around to be the last thing, since they usually don’t try cases on Tuesdays but were making an exception for us.

It was mostly like it was on TV, which was the extent of our previous knowledge of court between me and Josephine. It was almost heartbreaking to watch her on the stand and the pressure of the defense attorney and her English not always being exactly on. However, we were able to retrieve ‘exhibit A,’ the cell phone, and the judge very kindly apologized for the inconveniences of our trip and hoped we would continue to enjoy Jamaica.

The two hour wait for the bus didn’t help, but we made it home to Mandeville and our fabulous host mom, complete with hugs and homemade food (and showers!).

Okay a lot happened today too but I'm so exhausted I can't write anything else besides here's a comment on other things: I signed my contract today for my residency!