I met angels tonight. Or rather, the rare breed of good people that still exist. Stranded in 12 degrees Celsius over 200 miles away from home, a warm couple offered me a ride to my final destination. At first, I resisted and assured them my ride would show any minute now. But, as time ticked by and no trace of my ride was found (and my fingers began to numb) I took them up on their offer. They actually sat parked in their car waiting and watching me in a vast empty parking lot to make sure I got a ride.

If that wasn't enough they gave me door to door service, a 5 mile drive to my destination. The husband, a lawyer and Notre Dame alum. The wife, a former nurse at Memorial South Bend. Both names and places I'd been familiar with having spent five collegiate years in southern Michigan. 

Needless to say, I affirmed two things tonight: good people still exist. And I will be entering 2014 without baggage. Cues in goodbye to you. 

Legitimately disappointed with this semester's grades. 3.67. Two A minuses in classes that I held an A in the entire semester prior to the final exam. It feels like undergrad all over again, when I watch a final grade etched into my transcript forever. Minus signs that can't be erased but only watered down with future stellar performance. What I've learned is "this race isn't for the swift, but for the one who endures to the end".

 I was swift, but I didn't endure til the end. I tired, became way too comfortable and lackadaisical towards the end of the semester. I didn't study for my epi final and took my intro final on shaky wifi on a flight to Jamaica. So there went my pretty A to an ugly minus sign. Next semester is stats so I just might live at school--again. 2014, please be good. And by good I mean, 4.0.

Signed,

On time out til further notice.

Not leaving. 

My mom told me to pack colors. Airport bound and thinking I can't wait til the next season of GIRLS premieres in January. Hannah makes me feel better about life. 

Went legging shopping. Was convinced I found a pair thick enough to brace the biting cold. Until, the cash register read "nightwear". Watch me wear these in the day. 

Tragedy is a hell of a sedative. It sobers you up. Rids of all mischief, replaces it with solemnity and reflection. A young lady is missing. A graduate of one our sister schools. I don't know her. As the story progresses it doesn't seem hopeful that she'll be found. It troubles and saddens me deeply and is an unwanted reminder of the sick world we live in. Still praying for a turn around that she'll be found--safe.

Also, praying for next week's trip. As I'll be traveling un.

Today I opted for a deep plum lip, to counter the luminescent rays shooting from the sky on this bitter cold December day. 

oh, clementine

it's day seven of straight working and my brain is rather frazzled, which means I instinctively lose inhibition, become vulnerable and start to crave all the bad things. so i sat here resisting temptation, popping my fourth clementine, peg by peg and decided to check my student account for any new assignments or announcements. and a beacon of light descended from heaven, or rather, my professor emailed us saying CLASS IS CANCELLED. well, maybe not in those words or caps, but that's how I read it, that's how the letters screamed through the screen. I almost replied with an exaggerated YAYYYYYYY, but I refrained. let's maintain some level of professionalism, right?

So, now I have all this free time which means I'm forced into productivity. Ew.

insomnia

maybe it was the potent coffee
or
the 3 slices of pizza i gorged before bed
or
the fact that i have to be awake in 1.5 hours for work
and
immediately after, i'llbehavingdinnerwithmy(ex)andhisparents,alongwithmyparents
maybe it's the coffee.

Sitting in Brooklyn museum with a cup of Brooklyn Peruvian roast that was handed to me, for free. Listening to a band from Congo Republic thinking, life is beautiful. 💋

Tarrus Riley - She's Royal

in light of where I'll be in exactly two weeks. the excitement is brewing. island girl to the bone.

that kinda day

I just love when plans come together. There are days and weeks when you plan everything down to the most intricate detail and absolutely nothing goes as planned. And then there are weekends like this, when you create a schedule and with the combined powers of divine intervention, a sprinkle of magic, and Natzi planning, everything goes according to schedule. Breath of fresh air. This weekend I had more than the usual going on and I wanted to be there for it all. I wrote a detailed schedule hour to hour of what I would be doing exactly in each moment and somehow like magic it all followed schedule, task by task. Saturday. Baby dedication 11-4 pm. At 3:50, I was walking out the door. From 4 to 5:30 I'd pack for my weekend. By 6 pm I was in choir practice, as scheduled. Although practice started late, I said I'd leave at 8 regardless to keep with schedule. But by some great power it ended at 8 on the dot. So i continued to the city for my 10 o clock appointment til the wee hours of 530 am. Everything seemed to be going perfect until I missed my 730 am departure out of NYC after dozing off when I knew I should've stayed awake. But somehow through divine intervention I managed to squeeze on an 8 am bus to the dismay of whichever passenger got  left behind, and arrived to my destination at 11:57. Now here's the fun part. I had a connecting bus at 1:00 pm. But I thought I'd put my NY skills to the test and dodge for the 12 pm connection instead and save myself an hour. And so I did. First, I prayed. Then I said that i was going to make it on the 12 pm bus even if I had to throw my body in front of it. I almost did. I made it off my first bus at 11:58 and ran (practically flew) around the corner where I spotted the connecting bus just as the doors were closing. I banged on the door for the driver to let me in (as I've grown accustom to in Brooklyn) and with slight reluctance he did. So here I am on the 12 pm bus five hours away from home. Feeling rather victorious. I've reached the peak of my meticulous planning and for the next few days I can live on no schedule without any attention to time.

i've had enough of the big apple. i'm allergic

feet hurt. aggy. long day. working tomoro and the day after that and the day after that and continued. i'm over this commute in the foggy smoggy city. i'm over the sardine packed train rides, running to overcrowded buses, stalling trains, the sickness and filth. i miss my apartment. un-shared bathroom. 7 minute drive to and from work in suburban Illinois. currently bratty and apologetic (i should be grateful). seeking a plan away from Gotham.

and at some point you become enough.
you learn to accept your body and your face. you work with the hair you were given. you stop comparing. you go against the grain. you reject all need for approval. you crawl in your skin and love it. you breathe and live who you are and are to be and it's fine and it's okay and it's perfect. and from there on, you are enough.

TB: analysis, thinking out loud

This section's lecture is a case study on Tuberculosis which I'm excited about, having spent the past two months plus processing and reporting AFB cultures. Our first assignment is on an article about a Nepalese patient who was detained while attempting to illegally enter the U.S. He'd travelled extensively, including an eight-hour flight to Brazil carrying with him a very rare strain of TB called XDR. The XDR strain of TB arises from misuse or mismanagement of second-line antibiotics in treatment of MDR-TB, which is a result of misuse of first-line antibiotics for TB. 

This reminded me of a patient we had of Chinese descent. He presented with a mixed mycobacterium infection. One culture with MAC and the other with MTB. The physician called furiously stating his patient had no symptoms of TB. However, the patient was a previous positive TB patient. Subsequent cultures included pure isolated MAC and MTB as well as mixed cultures of MAC/MTB.

The DOH susceptibilities reported resistance to all first-line antibiotics. After delayed testing and months of pending results, the final report returned with Susceptible results to second-line antibiotics with a few resistant results. 

I remember wondering how could a seemingly asymptomatic patient present with MDR-TB. My hypothesis was of two: the susceptibility results were skewed because of the mixed cultures, and two, the patient's co-infection with MAC and MTB resulted in plasmid exchange in the DNA of each bacilli producing resistance. Neither hypothesis was tested or further evaluated. I pretty much resumed with life as usual.

Today's assignment however revisits my hypothesis and provides a valid explanation. This patient presented with a recurrent TB infection which indicates a latent infection or an active infection that was not fully treated. Misuse of first-line antibiotics led to his current MDR-TB infection.

wednesdays are for wonderful

my day started with Warm 60, a sixty minute hot yoga class at 7AM. Except it wasn't very hot (to my relief) and it wasn't as soul drenching, I mean reviving as it usually is. I think its because from the start of class I had my mind set that I'd exert as minimal energy as possible. And I did. Have you ever left Bikram dry? Well today was that day. I left hot yoga sweat-less almost as if I hadn't been at all. Apart from communal exercising, what I did benefit from attending yoga this morning was the meditation. I actually sat and attempted to meditate. I silenced my thoughts, the outside noise and dived into a sea of love and light. My thoughts, frustrations of the morning, and anxieties disappeared and I was left in a state of peace. Which is when my next thought came, go visit grandma. I'd been meaning to visit my grandma for months now. I'd seen her three times over the past seven months; mother's day, a wedding in the summer, and a wedding in the fall. I'd always wanted to go spend time with her but life was and is just zooming by and just when I think I have too much on my plate, I add a little more.

So, in the stillness of that moment at 7AM yoga I decided I would visit my grandma. I went to our favorite bakery and picked up some currant rolls and within no time I was at her door. We chatted for a bit, I showed her a picture of the ex-beau and then I painted her nails. It was such a simple task but it brought so much joy to her and me. She was so thankful for her manicure and excited about her new red nails. In less than a month, she'll be turning 97. I asked her what she wanted for her birthday and she answered, "love". One simple word with so much depth and texture. It reminded me how beautiful and giving my grandma is. Never seeking the material, only giving of herself, her time, the little she has, and lots of love. I hope to be like her now and in my old age--sweet, content, and always over-flowing with love.

Blogging from my phone since well, I'm at work. I spent the last hour lounging in Starbucks with the most soothing caramel brûlée latte and the usual bagel with cream cheese. Soft jazz serenading in the background, red cups and holiday decor warming the room. Christmas is coming and I can't help but feel warm inside. Mid-breakfast, as I sat absorbing the moment I began to reflect on life as my never resting brain loves to do. I realized that many times I live in fear. Fear of ideas, and places, and characters, and inanimate objects. So. I'm starting my resolutions a bit early for next year's and I'm giving worry a break and putting fearlessness to the test. Of course, exercising judgment and reason. Flinging arms wide open and embracing every single moment. Here's to life.

Signed,

Loved and content.

“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” – African proverb

I've got the travel bug! I'm ready for some adventure. Like a 17 hour flight with a side of jet lag adventure. Dreams won't work unless we do. With that in mind I think for Christmas I'm going to get a quality camera. I've wanted to for about seven years now. I think it's time. I'm also going to make a list of places I want to go and I'm going to make it happen. First stop: South Africa. Next up: Italia.

Putting it in print so I know it's real.