A Work in Progress

Just a quick note to finish off a wonderful and strange year. Here's to more of them! 2010 was remarkable indeed for many reasons, but that doesn't mean I should stop looking toward the future. Though I temporarily lost my ability to think very far ahead, it's back and I firmly believe life needs wild ass plans. So, I intend to pursue the next one on my list. I think I've come up with a name for my little photography biz, but I'll have to confirm it with the board of directors. Ha! Agonizing over a name will probably be the least of my problems, as I have yet to sort out taxes, licenses, and other kind of important legal type stuff. All in good time. Other than WAP#2, I have in general, resolved to hang out with the people who matter more. A year away made me appreciate the important people in my life. And although more than ever are at a distance, and making time for them is difficult in any life, I'm going to try to be a better communicator. The ...

Last week we arrived to a dark house with no sign of occupants. Dispatch decided to give us the code for the door after we started searching for a loose window or a weak door jam. The patient couldn't come to the door of course, mostly because she was behind two more doors and up steep stairs. Oh, and her lungs were full of fluid. My partner and I carried her down the stairs and outside in time for more hands to arrive. She really had me worried for a second there. But, we got her on the good old CPAP and off we went to the hospital. My next shift, I met her again, when I came up to our CCU to transfer her to another hospital for a heart cath. She was bright and had color and didn't remember me at all. I said, "Well, you look much better than when I last saw you." "Oh," she replied, putting her hand on her head, "well, I have my hair on today." Although I meant she didn't look like she about to die, I loved how spry she was. We ...

I was reminded yesterday by my one regular reader that I hadn't updated in a while. She expressed her disinterest in my feeble change in title picture. Well. I should update as I've had some good days at work. Busy, anyway. All of the good calls come late at night. Like the young person who walked out to the ambulance at midnight, declared they had a UTI and then before saying hello, asked if we could arrange to take them home after their ER visit. Um...no. The other morning at 3, we went to see a 19 year old who had chest pain. That's all I have to say about that. Or, the patient who texted their significant other at 1am to tell them they had overdosed, when in fact, they hadn't taken anything at all. That was totally worth going to. Okay, okay. This post is not following with my new world view of every call is worthwhile and interesting no matter what hour we are called. Something happened in their lives to prompt them to call an ambulance. Some circum...

One year later I find myself again thrown into their weirdness of this job. We were called to a factory and half way to the patient, I looked down at my boots, wondering what I was stepping in. He had gotten his arm caught in a machine, and, although freed, one of his colleagues had agreed to show me the machine. Dodging puddles of ground meat and blood, he lead me to an industrial meat mixer which grabbed our patients fingers and twisted his arm until it broke. I felt bad for him as we took 10 minutes to carefully cut his many pairs of gloves he had on to protect him from the cold and meat to see just what we were dealing with. I used up all my Spanish and we had an easy ride to the hospital. It was a wicked x-ray.

From Essouria, we headed North up the coast stopping in Casablanca to see the worlds tallest miranet on the worlds's third largest mosque.  This was pretty cool, and is the only mosque non Islamics can visit, but we arrived too late in the day.  The next day we continued to an overnight in Moulay Bousalhem where we took a fishing boat out to search for wild flamingos in the lagoon by our campsite.  We did find some although, because the tide was going out we saw them from about half a mile away.  Still, I guess they were flamingos (I can't be sure).  It was great anyway, to be out on the water in this beautiful and tranquil area.  From there we traveled to Cap Spartel, home of 'Hercules cave' a cave where Hercules allegedly hung out to rest after carving the Mediterranean sea.  There is a cool formation here that is almost the exact shape of the continent of Africa.  We also walked to the beach and enjoyed our last afternoon there.  In the e...

  Many apologies to anyone who may be trying to make sense of the end of my trip. For reasons unknown I have been little inspired to finish writing it. Rather, I have had the best of intentions, but have been as easily distracted as if I were writing a coursework. Alas, I worry the magic of it all has been lost in sporatic storytelling. And even I can't remember if I've caught up to the getting home bit, it's become so long and sordid. That aside, Essouria, Morocco is a very cool place. After leaving Marrakech, it was a relief to be camped out by the seaside within walking distance of a small port town full not of tourists, but real Moroccans. Wandering the streets here was actually calm and orderly and we were not constantly hounded to buy things. Except when some of us went to get freshly caught seafood and ran a literal gauntlet of vendors to pick the least annoying one to buy from. Essouria is on the Moroccan Atlantic coast and is a working port town with a...

As far as I can tell, there's only one. Well, other than dropping the lens cap out the window on the highway. In 2006, I saw KT Tunstall in concert and didn't bring my camera, assuming that I wouldn't be able to keep it, and taking public transport, there would be nowhere to put it without having to trust the venue. It turned out we stood three feet from her, could have had a camera, and had none. Oh well. So, the boyfriend took me to see her again last week and I brought the fancy-cam, determined to get at least one good photo. At the door they checked in my bag and told me I couldn't take it in. them: "That's a professional camera, I can't let you take it in." me: "But, I'm not a professional." them: "Yeah, but since that's a professional camera, we can check it or you can put it in your car." me: "WTH?!....fine" (after some irrited sights and feeble protesting) I found myself again three feet fr...

I've described many towns and cities in my journal as 'lively.' It wasn't until I saw Marrakesh that I realized how  when concerning any other place, just how pointless the word was. Marrakesh is hands down, the strangest, busiest, and most chaotic city I've ever been in.  Describing it as lively would be the understatement of the century.  We arrived in the evening, settled into our riad and headed out into the Djemaa el-Fna, the central market. At night, the market becomes (even more) alive and a series of food stalls pop up as well as OJ stands, date sellers, fortune tellers, street performers, snake charmers, and all manner of people. Oh, and pickpockets too. We ate dinner right in this night market which was very exciting for me, as it is very difficult not to feel like a tourist in Morocco, but this experience felt very real.  We sat along a long row of tables, 24 of us squeezed into a table built for far fewer. It was a good dinner with plenty to eat, ...

It has been difficult to admit that after a year of planning and a year of execution that the wild-ass plan is sadly and officially over. Although I'm not there anymore, it will certainly remain a part of my everyday life and ongoing friendships. I have had a definite reluctance to change my location on Facebook or the lappys clock back to EST. And, this past weekend I felt a near desperate desire to be back in England for the Harry Potter premier and all of the Coventry blitz anniversary happenings. Alas. At least I could catch the cathedral service on BBC radio. I have a few residual quirks from being there. It's amazing the affect being on the other side of the road has on the psyche. I still inadvertently look the wrong way before crossing and have occasional flashes of panic as I pull out onto the 'correct' side of the road. I had happily forgotten all of the rage that driving sometimes fills me with, and failed to truly appreciate the tranquility of a c...

I finished up my 're-orientation' at work this week.  It was altogether great to get back into it and catch up with work people.  We ran a couple of 'good' calls and I feel pretty confident about heading back out on my own next week, I just won't know where I'm going, but that's nothing new.  It's difficult to work where I don't live- street names and directions are never reinforced.  Anyway, we met up with a far away crew for a guy with chest pains.  We got there, ready to believe that the call had been talked up by overexcited providers, but this patient really looked, if I can use the term, poorly.  He was, pale, drenched in sweat, had truly crushing chest pain and was struggling with the EMT to keep the oxygen on his face while declaring that he was going to die.  When certain patients say this, I believe them, as it is usually beyond theatrics, and I have heard too many stories of a patient saying they were going to die and then, well, they do....

When we arrived at Todra Gorge, the sun had already set, but even so, a quick look around helped us realize we were in a unique place. When we looked up, the sky was again filled with stars, although the stars appeared to be blocked out except for a narrow strip above us. It was strange to realize that we were not staying at Todra Gorge, we were staying in it. Our hotel was situated against one wall of the gorge and we slept on the roof which was wacky but fun. Laying on my back in my sleeping bag I looked up and followed the dark canyon wall as it rose a hundred feet in front of me. It was truly strange, but waking up to see where we were in the daylight was magic. The canyon's narrow passage passed in front of the hotel and stretched out on either side of us. Most simply, we were in a gorge and as the sun rose, it threw light on the dry, red walls of the canyon and was one of the most amazing places I've seen. I was the only one of our group to take a trek throug...

Alright, I'm going to try again to finish writing about Morocco.  From Fez we traveled all day to the edge of the Sahara desert.  After a long drive that literally drove off of the roadway into seemingly nothing, we  clamored onto camels and headed into the soft, red sand dunes.  In about an hour, as we watched the sun set, we arrived at the Berber camp where we had dinner and spent the night.  We had, predictably, a tagene that was great, had an adventure not finding the toilet, and were entertained by some of the Berbers who played traditional drums around the camp fire. The sand there has the most inviting texture and temperature.  Instead of cold and wet, the deeper I dug into it, the warmer and dryer it felt.  Burying my feet in it was like having a heater around them, and the sand felt soft and smooth and I was completely content sitting it it, doing nothing else.  I leaned back against it, spreading my arms out like a snow angel; my entire...

I hopped into the drivers seat of our new truck and as I pulled away I had several questions. "Where are the lights on this thing?" "Oh, okay...Where is the siren"   "Thanks.  Ooh! I like this!" "Um...Did we call responding?"   "Awesome." "Oh, One more thing.  Where are we going? Because all I care about right now is finding the button for the rumbler." It is with joy I have returned to work and I was given two weeks before the next schedule to hang out and acclimate.  My first day was like Christmas, other than the new truck, we opened a satellite station, and got some new toys (including two very new lifepak 15s! I know, squirrell!).  We've run some good calls in the last week, and it's really felt like I never left.  The new schedule comes out next week and I'll be back officially.  But I have simply been thrilled by driving fast, clearing intersections, and blaring the siren to the point of absurdity. 

Fes was our first foray into a large Moroccan city and it didn't disappoint.  We stopped first at a pottery where we saw them throwing Tagines (the dish of the national dish) and more importantly (or dear to my heart) they were making the most beautiful mosaic tables I'd seen.  The work was so labor intensive and amazing I could have stayed all day watching them make them. After a couple of other stops at an overlook and the royal palace, we headed into the Medina (or old part of town) where an enormous variety of goods, meats, and materials can be purchased.  Fes was founded in 789 and still boasts the oldest functioning university, located right in the city center.  We were led through the souks (market stalls) in the medina as there are thousands of roads in this area that are largely unmarked and very narrow. It was a feast for the eyes, ears, and nose to wander through the medina here.  We saw many, many merchants selling textiles, leather, meat, food, fre...

From the moment I stepped off of the ferry in Morocco, I felt conspicuous, confused, lost, and nervous for the first time in my travels.  I had to walk about a half a mile to my meeting point and I spent most of the time getting there refusing help from a great number of local 'tour guides' who could offer me...well, anything I wanted really.  Especially a hotel room, a personal tour, or the location of the nearest cash point.  One guy followed me to the nearest ATM, pointed it out to me and said "Don't you want to get some money out?"  Haha, really, does that work on people?  Another guy literally ran after me to ask if I needed somewhere to stay.  There are only so many times I can politely refuse things.  But Morocco has a way of testing that type of patience and I was just getting my first taste of it.  Happily, I found the meeting point, clamored into an 80's Mercedes taxi, and, clutching my backpack and hoped fervently that it would take me ...

I should probably start blogging again. Sorry It's been a while with narry a mention of Morocco details, what I'm up to now, or general belly-aching about how things are weird and different and my complete loss of the ability to make long term life decisions. What I have done is get rehired at work, woot! I start back on Monday and I am looking forward to being a semi productive member of society again. Secretly, I'm a little nervous and not totally looking forward to feeling like a stupid noob again. But I doubt it will last past the first shakey-handed IV start. Like riding a bike...I hope. Oh, and speaking of that, I took the bike out on ten miles of our old route and it was awesome! I was reminded just how crap my crap bike was. The kayaks got a work out today too, which was amazing. It took me a few minutes to remember how I got it on my roof, but after that it was all good. The weather has been unusually cooperative, and I am hoping to squeeze as many aut...

It is difficult to describe the feelings of joy, excitement, sadness, and utter weirdness I have felt over the last week. I finally arrived back in London after a tiring couple of days traveling and living like a hobo.  I felt such comfort and contentedness when I arrived, and I headed to my friends house, reunited with my suitcases, and overjoyed to stretch out on a proper bed. The next day, I absorbed my Morocco souvenirs into my suitcases, barely keeping them under the allotted 23kgs. 10 lbs of chocolate seriously doesn't help. And all of it is to give away.  Most of it. Some of it.  A few pieces. I spent part of the afternoon checking up on my favorites in the National Gallery.  Then I met my cousin which was super weird as we usually only meet once a year at Christmas.  But it was really awesome to catch up and exchange our love of all things British.  It felt as though it had been far longer than a month since I left Coventry as I met a couple of co...

I am back in Spain, fresh(ish) from a fortnight in Morocco, a little more tan, a little more blonde, and a lot wiser on all things Moroccan.  More details will undoubtedly be spilled here in coming weeks, once I am more organized. But for now I can tell you how much Morocco made me appreciate little things.  Little things like modern plumbing, toilet paper, soap, and quite simply, toilets.  Any combination of these (or all) were conspicuous in thier non existance throughout our stay, which sometimes made that rather mundane aspect of life amusing and adventurous.  Additionally, I never fully appreciated going into a shop, being left alone, browsing in peace, and having clear prices.  Like bathroom essentials, all of these shopping elements were conspicuous in thier non existance.  I have never been so popular in my life, being constantly bothered to buy things in Morocco.  "Just have a look", "to look is free", "no price is fixed", "what's your ...

"Welcome to the 700th post! (and the 100th this year) We are reporting to you live from the southernmost point of Europe, and, although the blog has been neglected, Ellies sun tan has not!"  Okay, so I'm pretty much still pale and pasty, but, oh the sun.  How glorious.  I am currently in Tarifa, Spain, one of the most beautiful and charming places I've ever been. Can we say house hunters international?  I am utilizing the hostel internet, and can look off of the terrace in front of me....and see Africa.  I'll be up close by tomorrow evening for which I am stoked!   The beach is amazing and goes on for miles with crystal clear blue water and a rash of kite surfers.  Tarifa is where the Mediterranean and the Atlantic meet which among other things, makes it windy.  There are literally hundreds of wind turbines in the hills behind the city, which is clearly awesome.  I can't imagine that Tarifa emits any carbon.  It's been a fab coup...

A short update to match the last.  I am here in Barcelona after a long and strange day.  Longer update to follow for sure.  Highlights are: churches! strange meats! champagne making! world class bouldering! overnight trains! waiting! taking the metro! and, more strange meats!  Can you hardly wait to read all about it!?  But first, a siesta. Here are some upsideown question marks to tie you over.  ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿

The first leg of the wild ass plan within a wild ass plan is here in France.  I am on an EU keyboard which is discouraging me to write with its out of order keys.  But just a short entry to say I am here and having a wonderful time visiting charming cities and eating new foods including horse, fois gras, blood sasuage, and a few other meats I don`t want to think about.  Plenty of wine, sweets, and pastries too! Paris tomorrow and on to Barcelona Friday night.  Oh, here is a selection of useful keys on this lappy. é è ç à ^ £ ¤ µ ù § °  qs zell qs ,isplqced a,w,x, q, and m.  Weirdos. Here`s a € for good measure.

Roundup! What's with having to press a button to get out of a building. I’m pretty sure this is just to make foreigners (or just me) look stupid. Charitably funded air ambulances are simply a brilliant idea. The thought of not having to pay taxes toward them, and that insurance companies would not be billed $10,000 every time I flew someone at work is simply heart-warming.  Support your local air ambulance! I love that everyone here has the same ring tone. It is particularly amusing on the train when the Nokia do-do-do-do starts and everyone looks around while patting their pockets or digging through their purses. Hilarious. Even better is the confident person who immediately says 'it can't be me' and does nothing. It always turns out that it's their phone that is ringing. And it always turns out that that person is me. Things would be a lot easier for foreigners if they didn't use A4 size paper here. It's off by just enough that I cannot eas...

I really want to get maybe, 1000 of my closest friends together and put them in a queue to nowhere through an English city center. I just want to see if people will join a random line with no discernible beginning or destination. Every few minutes, the person at the 'front' could move up a few steps, and all will follow, but really they are waiting for nothing. I hypothesise that this would work. People would join the queue, then feel too silly after a few minutes to ask just what they were queuing for. How long could that go on? UK sociologists: a challenge. But the British queuing thing is true, and most Brits will admit to it. It makes things very orderly, which I enjoy. It is mostly clearly seen at the cash machine where everyone is very respectful of PIN protection. I have only seen queue confusion at the market where the politeness will make anyone crazy with unending 'You go' 'No, you go.' 'Really, you were here first.' 'Are you sur...

Few things reveal cultural differences and distinctions more than alcoholic beverages and their consumption. There is nothing more British than a pint of real ale. Real ale is a phenomenon to me, each with a different taste, color, and origin. There are so many, most pubs have a couple standard options and a rotation of several others.  When I go to the pub, I just pick one at random and hope for the best. This tact hasn't let me down! I guess I can clarify that a 'real ale' or cask ale uses traditional ingredients, is fermented in the same container it is dispensed from, and no CO2 is added. This mostly means that each brew tastes distinctive and it doesn't come out of a regular tap, but has to be manually pumped from the cask. They are brewed all over the country (and world) and each brewery has its own flavors and secret recipes. Basically, a lager, is a lager, is a lager, as I was wisely told, and a cask ale is always different and usually always good. Ther...

Like all transitional phases of life, the last few days here in Cov have been strange and great and sad at the same time.  The next few days will be handing in my thesis, packing all my stuff into suitcases, stocking up on my favorite candy and tea, eating at the best restaurants in town, and hanging with friends that I will soon have to leave for some time. I had my last service at the cathedral on Sunday which was very nice and peaceful.  Later, a couple of friends and I finally went to Cadbury World to check out how Britain's favorite chocolate is made.  This is completely worth it, if you can get tons of discounts on entry like we did.  It's pretty camp and silly, but has a fair balance of stuff for kids and adults. After the history of chocolate and Cadbury's, at a very brief point we actually saw some factory action where the bars were being put into wrappers.  What I found interesting is that they are very insistent about not taking photos in that area....

I started last weekend by hitting the Brick Lane Sunday market in London. This was pretty cool, but I felt not hipster enough. Most of the market was overpriced new clothes, but more so, overpriced vintage clothes. Outside of that there was some awesome street food to be had, which frankly interests me way more than clothes of any era. I had an awesome Japanese 'rice thingy' and a Thai pumpkin curry which I plan to attempt to replicate when I get home. The Sunday market spreads to the street where tiny yard sales take place right on the pavement set in 'Banglatown' where there are about a million curry houses as well as cool foreign grocery stores and sweet shops. I stopped in to the Brick Lane Beigel Bake because when the queue for a place doubles back and out the door, it is almost always worth standing in. Here you can watch them bake the bagels and then buy one for 20p. A true London bargain. In the evening, I took in a free organ concert at Westminster Ab...

I don’t know this feeling but like others, it comes and goes. It fills me with anticipation, and sadness at the same time. I don’t know this feeling but like others, it sneaks up on me. It causes me to take time out, not to be alone. I don’t know this feeling but like others, it keeps me going. It reminds me what the reasons were, and what the future holds. I don’t know this feeling but like others, I’m in denial. I think I know what it is, but I’ve never been homesick before.

When I think of British stereotypes, I think of boring food, rainy days, and bad teeth. Stereotypes are sometimes (usually) based in fact and as an American, I know that the rest of the world thinks that we have excessively large cars, yards, hamburgers, and pretty much everything else is too big too (which is all true). So, I am not surprised when people make jokes about my SUV, our cowboy hats, crappy beer, and the fact that I have the nerve to complain about gas prices. I openly admit to these less than charming characteristics of Americans, and more openly, make fun of them mercilessly. But back to making fun of my adopted country. All Britons will admit that the food is boring, but that doesn't mean it's not good. And yeah, it rains a lot here. In fact, it's raining now. But, it makes the grass green. So, take that. I have recently discovered that most Britons I know don't know that they are mocked in other countries for having bad teeth. I don't know ...

Inexperience worries that the dough isn't right. Flour covered hands roll with makeshift pin and juice glass cutter. A watchful eye of foreign ovens ensures nothing is on fire. Plain icing needs sprinkles, arranged on each masterpiece. Scrutinizing the mess, but pleased with their uniformity. Tears caught me by surprise, flown all the way home with one bite.

Tomato-Tomahto. Let's not call the whole thing off. I guess I can't do this series without a word on words. I didn't really want to get into the lexicography of US v. UK terms. Mostly because it quickly gets confusing and some of it I knew before I arrived. Also, I find most of it quite charming. For example, why don't we call it a car boot? And nothing sounds better than “a mini cooper with white bonnet stripes.” But some words are just too fancy. I mean, courgette? Aubergine? Seriously. Almost every conversation I have with a Brit ends up with talk of our vocab minutiae and the whole thing is just one of life’s mysteries. No one can explain why a sweater is a jumper, a trash can is a bin, or a backpack is a rucksack. Am I going to wear a bathing suit or a...a swimming costume? I can't even say that without giggling. There are a million more, none of which have any explanation; and the American Revolution would be stretching it. Some of it, though, l...

The laptop is warm on my knees I take another break for tea. The research continues, words reluctantly multiply. I'm probably overcomplicating it and distraction abounds. I hear something outside, or the relentless allure of the internet. When a sudden idea peeks around the corner and I'm back to the point. That five minutes of work certainly deserves a reward. More tea.

Academically, things are going fine. I met with my supervisor last week who is awesomely and annoyingly hands off. I am very glad not to have a supervisor who wants to meet every week and check up on my progress every five minutes. I'm also glad to have one who cares, but is happy to leave me alone. But, I kind of need a little more discipline as I am in actuality, a terrible student who is easily distracted. Hence, I have been more interested in writing blog posts and booking trains than finishing my case studies. He seemed happy with my progress, and was unhurt that I have already conducted a couple of interviews and nearly finished my lit review without him. So, I am about half finished now and if I actually bother to read stuff and 'critically analyze' it, I can easily be finished before the due date. As for my wild-ass plan within a wild-ass plan, I have booked my flight home (woot!) Eurostar tickets, a few overnight trains (yeah, it would be faster and cheaper t...

Breakfast can be a great time in the UK. I have raved about the 'full English' before and have now experienced its many variations including but not limited to blood pudding, fried toast, potato scone, mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, baked beans, but always including the staples of fried egg, rasher of bacon, and sausages. How to go wrong? Add a little porridge with sugar and cream: dream breakfast. On the colder side of breakfast, the UK have extremely boring cereals. Granted, Weetabix , Alpen , and Crunchy Nut, aren't bad, but simply can't compare to Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Corn Pops, and the mother of all breakfast cereals: Lucky Charms. It is an urban myth that Lucky Charms was banned here due to its lack of nutrition and contribution to poor oral health. Though it is true that it can only be found in speciality shops at a ludicrously inflated price. Speaking of cereal, can anyone justify UHT milk? I swear I'd never seen this 'ultra high temperature' treat...

If you're in the UK and find yourself wondering; cookies are biscuits, biscuits are scones (kind of), chips are crisps, fries are chips, and crackers are also biscuits (or explosives). To go along with most of those things, let me emphasize the importance of tea. Sure, we in the US have southern sweet tea that is so sweet you could pour it over pancakes, but it doesn't fulfill the cultural necessities of a good cuppa. It's not necessarily the taste that keeps people coming back, although it is good. Firstly, it's the process of making it. Sharing with a friend, extending the conversation while waiting for the kettle to boil, and the tea to cool. Not to mention the exciting, jet taking off sound the kettle makes when 220 volts boil the water in seconds. Then there's the methodical nature of the brew: how long the bag stays in, how much milk to add, sugar? no sugar? milk first or last? biscuits? to dip, or not to dip? All of these things define the self-proclaim...