It's been about ten days since I last had a long and organised rant on this online space, and oh what a rant it was indeed. At this point I'm feeling rather more zen about life in general, and hopefully this following entry will support that theory, although I will admit and warn right now that 'tis likely to be somewhat haphazard and perhaps disjointed, as I'm composing it in a rather relaxed and stilted pace - as the mood comes and goes. Rather than a single splurge of emotified text, it is the work of a lazy Sunday - a Sunday which, if God was on my mind, I'd be praising It for.n

nn

nIt’s now four weeks into my Geriatricageddon: Old People UNITE! experience, and I’m going to start by addressing it: I have really, really enjoyed this rotation. Three days ago I would have said no, god, make it stop, I need help, argh! but I’ve had a day and a half to mellow down, and besides I’ve felt like that in the fourth week of every single rotation so far, so it’s cool, that’s just the Week Four Fuck This experience. That said - I will not be a geriatrician. I will almost certainly be a physician track, but I won’t specialise in Old People Medicine. I don’t have anything against them at all, they are generally lovely (such as the bipolar lady who chatted with me for twenty minutes about how nice my ManBag is!) but dementia isn’t my cup of total-everything-tea.n

nn

nI was driving home on Thursday night after spending my Token Social Evening of the Week (twice last week. I felt really, really people-tired-but-amazingly-full-of-cheese) and listening to my most recent mix CD (my driving music & monthly iPod playlist) and was struck by something that has amused me and saddened me in the past… namely, music association. There exist, at this point, a few songs that when played are highly associated for me, specifically with female members of homo sapiens sapiens, both close friends and former/current ‘mores’. As such, I started thinking about them and decided to put a few of them online as I remembered them as, hell, I’m blogging about life and stuff in general, so why not be as open as I can be (for my audience of what, four? five?). So here’s a few songs that I associate with people.

nnYou Raise Me Up, by Lena Park. nLet Her Cry, by Hootie & the Blowfish nShe, by Elvis Costello nHello, by Lionel Ritchie nThe Only Exception, by Paramore nBeautiful in my Eyes, by Joshua Kadison nJust the Way You Are, by Boyce Avenue (Bruno Mars cover) nStanding at the Edge of the Earth, by Blessid Union of Souls. nDaydream Believer, by Mary Beth Maziarz nn

nYes, the majority are effectively love songs. Fancy that. No, there is no duplication of songs on that list. One song makes me feel guilty every single time I hear it, another is painful, a third is wistful, and then the others, well. nnI suppose the point I’m thinking of eventually trying to maybe make is this: music is associative, and is especially so in specific cases for me. Thought I’d share that before I move on.n

nn

nIn terms of moving on, I’ve decided to place something creative here. Creative, sad, depressing, but amazing in that it dragged me out of Thursday. Setting the scene - Thursday, Hospital Grand Rounds, listening to a case presentation by a neurologist about a lady from the south coast with Locked In Syndrome - for those at home, that’s a condition caused by a stroke resulting in infarcted (dead) midbrain tissue - a stroke in a basilar artery, if you want to google it. I was sitting there listening, considering the film The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and wondering, what would it be like? The following was my answer: n

nn nnDon’t shut the doornnStare outwards; flare then blink nbut don’t pray, that’s worse than weeping n& God probably doesn’t care. nTongue-tied mind-flayed open to soar nbut sadness- n& it’s all a show for the other.nnI want to scream so I do nbut I can’t they don’t hear n& I’m alone attended cared for waited upon nbut anguish- n& I fall free-down into lightless sunshine. nnOne day I’ll be a real boy nbut don’t please never admit tell doctor n& nurses looking at me scattergun demon: nI can’t think without butterfly entrapment nbut solitude- n& I think I’m over, probable, yes. nn

nMm. That’s a tad depressing, yes. Afterwards, Jess asked me if I’d want to be disconnected at that point, and I thought yes, I think I would - it was interesting how the thought process went, it had almost everything to do with others and nothing to do with self. Interesting.

nn

nI have, however, just had a lovely weekend considering that I did maybe three hours work on Saturday, gave up, spent six hours watching the Big Bang Theory and Glee, and did nothing at all today - being Sunday. First total day off for… well, since the middle of January. I think. I needed it. I’ve been rather down both physically and mentally, and I’m now in a position of relative calm again - avoided most people, and just recharged, oh and had an internet argument about personality type which is always more fun than it needs to be, if only because NT people are so easy to set off. Apologies NT friends. Love you all. :)n

nn

nAnyway, the time is now here for me to sleep and resuscitate, and then do one more week of Geriatrics… with a steak dinner arranged for Tuesday. Looking forward to that, especially.n

n

n-Andiyar