L is for the long trip you just had
E is for everyone was praying you home
I is for it always makes me happy to know you are taking care of my sis
G is goodness gracious God is good
H means hopeful i will see you soon again...
hope this year is full of adventure and fun and blessing...
and Zai,
I is for your intellect your expanding, S and A is for superamazing, I is for interesting, A is for A+ :) and H is for here is all my love sent to you...
Happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday 24 September 2011
Thursday 22 September 2011
Oh be careful little eye's what you see...
It all started when a famous health professional who specializes in sexual health got a bulletin on how suicide rates in the army were at an all time high. She was curious and read the long and boring facts on data collected about this new phenomenon. Nothing was clicking until she read a sentence relating the fact that over 50% of those who were studied had exhibited or mentioned an inability to intimately connect with another human being in their life. Deep relationships, intimacy, gone.
This health professional wondered if there was any research, military or otherwise linking war with an inability to achieve intimate relationships...she went back to world war 2...their was really nothing studied or documented which could better inform her, no answers really.
She still wondered. What is it, in the military experience that could make an otherwise healthy human unable to connect with another human.
She offered her services to military health professionals in order to engage with some of that 'community' to see what their understanding of this issue was. No one seemed to be wondering the same things she was. And then she was asked to speak with a specific unit for educational purposes. She started her little talk on sexuality, intimacy, physical expression and emotional connection...blah blah blah and half way through she stopped and just asked if there were any questions so far. What was on their mind...that kind of thing.
One young man raised his hand, a medic. he said, "I know why God made the night dark."
This health professional could have cared less about God, but wondered what on earth this 'boy' was getting at.
He continued by adding he had been on two tours, spending countless hours patrolling. 'We wear night vision goggles,' he said, 'we see everything'. 'We see what men do to women and children, to other men when it's dark, we see it all.' Then he stopped. She continued her lecture, despite wanting to go over and give him a big hug and wipe all his bad memories away. By the time she ended, he was gone.
She hasn't forgotten him, and when she addresses issues affecting sexuality and intimacy, she always mentions war.
As much as I worry over people that are being taken advantage of, of corrupt governments and oppressed people who need some saving, who need help. A saviour. I also worry about those brave souls who rush in to save them. The ones who still believe in honor, duty and integrity. I worry about people with good intentions, a big dream, and some ammunition. I worry about doing good that only brings about more harm. I worry about being a nurse who tries to fix symptoms and ignores the person. I worry that I will pat myself on the back for finishing my shift and leave a battlefield full of dying people. I worry that the medicine has side effects that cause more problems than they cure. I worry that the ones fighting infection at the site are the ones making super bugs unknowingly.
And that is why the story of that medic makes me a little bit sad. That is why the rest of our sexual health class, we were subdued. We have built up the pursuit of knowledge as some sort of saviour for all the simple minded. The ignorant, the naive. We have given the power of determination over to ourselves and maybe we have succeeded in becoming the empowered person we always wanted to be...but as gods of our own wee universe we have lost contact with everyone else.
I am studying now...really, I am studying...I just had to get out my worry post...
This health professional wondered if there was any research, military or otherwise linking war with an inability to achieve intimate relationships...she went back to world war 2...their was really nothing studied or documented which could better inform her, no answers really.
She still wondered. What is it, in the military experience that could make an otherwise healthy human unable to connect with another human.
She offered her services to military health professionals in order to engage with some of that 'community' to see what their understanding of this issue was. No one seemed to be wondering the same things she was. And then she was asked to speak with a specific unit for educational purposes. She started her little talk on sexuality, intimacy, physical expression and emotional connection...blah blah blah and half way through she stopped and just asked if there were any questions so far. What was on their mind...that kind of thing.
One young man raised his hand, a medic. he said, "I know why God made the night dark."
This health professional could have cared less about God, but wondered what on earth this 'boy' was getting at.
He continued by adding he had been on two tours, spending countless hours patrolling. 'We wear night vision goggles,' he said, 'we see everything'. 'We see what men do to women and children, to other men when it's dark, we see it all.' Then he stopped. She continued her lecture, despite wanting to go over and give him a big hug and wipe all his bad memories away. By the time she ended, he was gone.
She hasn't forgotten him, and when she addresses issues affecting sexuality and intimacy, she always mentions war.
As much as I worry over people that are being taken advantage of, of corrupt governments and oppressed people who need some saving, who need help. A saviour. I also worry about those brave souls who rush in to save them. The ones who still believe in honor, duty and integrity. I worry about people with good intentions, a big dream, and some ammunition. I worry about doing good that only brings about more harm. I worry about being a nurse who tries to fix symptoms and ignores the person. I worry that I will pat myself on the back for finishing my shift and leave a battlefield full of dying people. I worry that the medicine has side effects that cause more problems than they cure. I worry that the ones fighting infection at the site are the ones making super bugs unknowingly.
And that is why the story of that medic makes me a little bit sad. That is why the rest of our sexual health class, we were subdued. We have built up the pursuit of knowledge as some sort of saviour for all the simple minded. The ignorant, the naive. We have given the power of determination over to ourselves and maybe we have succeeded in becoming the empowered person we always wanted to be...but as gods of our own wee universe we have lost contact with everyone else.
I am studying now...really, I am studying...I just had to get out my worry post...
Tuesday 20 September 2011
Today I almost died.
I survived tho...just letting you know I am safe...in case your worried and you can't wait until the end.
Anyway, I was sitting in class and we were studying the endocrine system, we got through hypothyroidism...and I felt fine. And then we got to hyperthyroidism, and graves disease. You can either have a problem with the gland itself, secreting too much T4...or it could be that the message from the hypothalamus releasing the hormone and anterior pituitary stimulating hormone feeding into the thyroid is wack and the thyroid is actually fine. Either way, you get hyperthyroidism if you have too much T4 running around...and then your body goes into overdrive, making more and more rbc (red blood cells), using more energy, go go go...people who suffer from it can develop a mental disorder they become so frantic. ironically however, some of the symptoms mirror that of hypothyroidism, the loss of hair, lack of libido ( my prof described this as, well, once your brain registers your sex drive it has already passed because everything is on high speed...we all laughed) anyway then she started talking about the crisis event, what happens when it's an emergency situation...and one of the symptoms was abdominal pain...then I realized something: my stomach was hurting, I suddenly knew I was suffering from hyperthyroidism...I was at a crisis event...I felt hot, flush, I was sweating,mostly my stomach hurt emergency! emergency!...I am sure i was experiencing muscle weakness too but i couldn't check cause I was in class so I just stayed in my chair...I was fading fast...I looked around...did no one notice how sick i was? I started thinking about how long it would take someone to get to the skills lab to get me an iv to replace all the fluid I was loosing...what to do what to do....where is PTU and Tapazole when you need it!!???! I needed radioactive iodine therapy STAT.
and then class ended and I somehow managed to get out of class and decided to eat my last meal...this is it...as soon as I had some food in me, for some odd reason, i felt so much better...my stomach stopped hurting. I realized I wasn't sweating anymore, I was better!
crisis event with hyperthyroidism solved with a tuna wrap...bet no Dr ever tried that before.
and that is the story of today and what i lived through...
it was intense...
Anyway, I was sitting in class and we were studying the endocrine system, we got through hypothyroidism...and I felt fine. And then we got to hyperthyroidism, and graves disease. You can either have a problem with the gland itself, secreting too much T4...or it could be that the message from the hypothalamus releasing the hormone and anterior pituitary stimulating hormone feeding into the thyroid is wack and the thyroid is actually fine. Either way, you get hyperthyroidism if you have too much T4 running around...and then your body goes into overdrive, making more and more rbc (red blood cells), using more energy, go go go...people who suffer from it can develop a mental disorder they become so frantic. ironically however, some of the symptoms mirror that of hypothyroidism, the loss of hair, lack of libido ( my prof described this as, well, once your brain registers your sex drive it has already passed because everything is on high speed...we all laughed) anyway then she started talking about the crisis event, what happens when it's an emergency situation...and one of the symptoms was abdominal pain...then I realized something: my stomach was hurting, I suddenly knew I was suffering from hyperthyroidism...I was at a crisis event...I felt hot, flush, I was sweating,mostly my stomach hurt emergency! emergency!...I am sure i was experiencing muscle weakness too but i couldn't check cause I was in class so I just stayed in my chair...I was fading fast...I looked around...did no one notice how sick i was? I started thinking about how long it would take someone to get to the skills lab to get me an iv to replace all the fluid I was loosing...what to do what to do....where is PTU and Tapazole when you need it!!???! I needed radioactive iodine therapy STAT.
and then class ended and I somehow managed to get out of class and decided to eat my last meal...this is it...as soon as I had some food in me, for some odd reason, i felt so much better...my stomach stopped hurting. I realized I wasn't sweating anymore, I was better!
crisis event with hyperthyroidism solved with a tuna wrap...bet no Dr ever tried that before.
and that is the story of today and what i lived through...
it was intense...
Thursday 15 September 2011
God is Great. God is Good.
1. friends
2.the bum dance
3.almonds
4.my favorite sweater
5.heated bus stops
6.being brave...let me clarify this, bravery.
7.I don't feel guilty.
8.words
9.cards.
10.packages
11.pictures
12.laughter
13.coffee
14.sushi
15.walking
16.weezer
17.old jokes
18.boots
19.memories
20. crazy dreams
21. smiles
22.dad emailed
23. music
24. windows
25. flowers and potted plants
26. Dr. Seuss
27. lecture on opiod analgesia
2.the bum dance
3.almonds
4.my favorite sweater
5.heated bus stops
6.being brave...let me clarify this, bravery.
7.I don't feel guilty.
8.words
9.cards.
10.packages
11.pictures
12.laughter
13.coffee
14.sushi
15.walking
16.weezer
17.old jokes
18.boots
19.memories
20. crazy dreams
21. smiles
22.dad emailed
23. music
24. windows
25. flowers and potted plants
26. Dr. Seuss
27. lecture on opiod analgesia
Friday 9 September 2011
You Are
One day, about 9 years ago...I met you. I was one of the first people to see you alive, in this world, ever! You were white, of course you were white:) but what I mean is you were really pale, but I remember thinking that you were handsome. I have always liked your face. Your face has seen alot of things, you have lived in Australia, Java, Canada, the US for a bit and now you are even living somewhere else still. You have been on planes, cars, for hours and hours on end. Your 9 years have packed in more than alot of adults have seen or known in a whole lifetime, and to have all that in your head is pretty amazing. In fact, I think it makes you so much more fun. Sometimes it must be hard for you, and sometimes you must wonder what God is doing and how your going to get through some of the hard times you have some days; so here is one story of how you have already made the world a better place just by being you.
Right after you were born something really sad happened in our family. Uncle Stephen died and you were still so little that your mum and Dad couldn't come with us to Faith academy to say goodbye to all his friends. I remember the morning we heard the news about Uncle Stephen, you and your mum and Dad and me piled into their little red car and drove up to Three Hills so we could cry with Oma and Opa...do you know what, everyone wanted to hold you, and when we held you, we all felt a little better. You already worked your magic:) You were just you.
When i had to go on the plane and your mum and Dad couldn't come with me...know what? I did something crazy, I looked at you and then i prayed to God. I prayed that you would be able to comfort your mum and Dad-while I was far away-you were a baby! But i knew you could do it. I prayed that everytime they held you, that their hurting would somehow be alittle bit less. I went away and was so sad that I forgot to really talk to your Mum and Dad lots, or phone them about all the things we were doing, and I am sure that made them hurt more...but even after all that when everything settled down, your Mum and Dad still forgave me for making their hurt bigger, and I am sure it was because they were holding you...because you are.
Even today, when i look at your face, i remember praying that you would be a comfort to other's...that was a pretty big prayer to lay on a baby...but still your face always make me feel better, it helps my hurt go away.
Isaiah 11:6
The wolf shall dwell with the lamb: and the leopard shall lie down with the kid: the calf and the lion, and the sheep shall abide together, and a little child shall lead them.
Right after you were born something really sad happened in our family. Uncle Stephen died and you were still so little that your mum and Dad couldn't come with us to Faith academy to say goodbye to all his friends. I remember the morning we heard the news about Uncle Stephen, you and your mum and Dad and me piled into their little red car and drove up to Three Hills so we could cry with Oma and Opa...do you know what, everyone wanted to hold you, and when we held you, we all felt a little better. You already worked your magic:) You were just you.
When i had to go on the plane and your mum and Dad couldn't come with me...know what? I did something crazy, I looked at you and then i prayed to God. I prayed that you would be able to comfort your mum and Dad-while I was far away-you were a baby! But i knew you could do it. I prayed that everytime they held you, that their hurting would somehow be alittle bit less. I went away and was so sad that I forgot to really talk to your Mum and Dad lots, or phone them about all the things we were doing, and I am sure that made them hurt more...but even after all that when everything settled down, your Mum and Dad still forgave me for making their hurt bigger, and I am sure it was because they were holding you...because you are.
Even today, when i look at your face, i remember praying that you would be a comfort to other's...that was a pretty big prayer to lay on a baby...but still your face always make me feel better, it helps my hurt go away.
Isaiah 11:6
The wolf shall dwell with the lamb: and the leopard shall lie down with the kid: the calf and the lion, and the sheep shall abide together, and a little child shall lead them.
Sunday 4 September 2011
Who am I?
I was raised by someone who always knew to do the right thing. That is why I was taken in, because it was the right thing to do. Always right, to the point of being inflexible, and so I became a reed raised to bend and bow to the wishes of the wind.
I grew up quickly, as first I lost my parents, then my guardian...taken into a foreign culture to learn their ways. And unlike most aliens and strangers who stick out in a different society. I became one of them, I even gave up my own name, I hid my identity with the hard fought skill of being a chameleon. I sought anther's approval over all my actions, and used every thought and action to win the love of everyone around me. This became my greatest weapon, my ability to please others. While other young girls learned from their mothers. i learned from strangers. While most young girls were taught to cherish their family, I was told to deny mine. While other girls were given in marriage and raising their babies, building families and a legacy of little things. I was given one momentous night to loose even myself and then i had to wait.
I did please others. I did rise to the top of society at the cost of my cultural identity, and moral integrity. I became someone most mother's raise their children not to be. I used every ounce of persuasion I had to solidify my position.
And then, everything changed. I was asked, no commanded to stand for everything I left. Everything I was no longer. I was asked to fix what had-for me-already been broken. For all the other girls' baby-making, family tree forming, culture keeping, religious following, chaste living; the fate of their legacy of all the little moments rested in my two small hands. On my flexible tongue. In the political power I had exchanged all those things for. In strength of character no one watching from the outside would think I possessed.
Truthfully, I was given no choice. It was a command like no other. Can a swaying reed bend the wind to it's favor? Life had raised me as the pawn and now I was to act a queen, but it was all still a game with rules I could only follow. I had to unveil my carefully kept identity, to shed the last of my vulnerability, all for the sake of other's. Many other's, but still 'other', no longer sharing what we once did. Other's who could never even eat the same food as me. So, I asked to save my people but stayed a foreigner. I asked for an entire nation, I had already given away.
And while others rejoiced in the shelter of their family love. At the end of my own story, I held the hand of a stranger, high above normal life's noisy din, out of reach to mere mortals.
I am Queen Esther.
I grew up quickly, as first I lost my parents, then my guardian...taken into a foreign culture to learn their ways. And unlike most aliens and strangers who stick out in a different society. I became one of them, I even gave up my own name, I hid my identity with the hard fought skill of being a chameleon. I sought anther's approval over all my actions, and used every thought and action to win the love of everyone around me. This became my greatest weapon, my ability to please others. While other young girls learned from their mothers. i learned from strangers. While most young girls were taught to cherish their family, I was told to deny mine. While other girls were given in marriage and raising their babies, building families and a legacy of little things. I was given one momentous night to loose even myself and then i had to wait.
I did please others. I did rise to the top of society at the cost of my cultural identity, and moral integrity. I became someone most mother's raise their children not to be. I used every ounce of persuasion I had to solidify my position.
And then, everything changed. I was asked, no commanded to stand for everything I left. Everything I was no longer. I was asked to fix what had-for me-already been broken. For all the other girls' baby-making, family tree forming, culture keeping, religious following, chaste living; the fate of their legacy of all the little moments rested in my two small hands. On my flexible tongue. In the political power I had exchanged all those things for. In strength of character no one watching from the outside would think I possessed.
Truthfully, I was given no choice. It was a command like no other. Can a swaying reed bend the wind to it's favor? Life had raised me as the pawn and now I was to act a queen, but it was all still a game with rules I could only follow. I had to unveil my carefully kept identity, to shed the last of my vulnerability, all for the sake of other's. Many other's, but still 'other', no longer sharing what we once did. Other's who could never even eat the same food as me. So, I asked to save my people but stayed a foreigner. I asked for an entire nation, I had already given away.
And while others rejoiced in the shelter of their family love. At the end of my own story, I held the hand of a stranger, high above normal life's noisy din, out of reach to mere mortals.
I am Queen Esther.
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