life and death

What a day.

So busy at work- I could've cried. Too much to do. Too many patients. Three pokes at three ropey veins in a little old lady's arm. No blood. In the hallway, too. Not the worst thing, but just one of many things.

Then at 5 minutes to shift change. Right before my twelve hours here is over. Woman comes in, something's not right. Normal ultrasound today, now something is dreadfully wrong. Gush of fluid. Get her in, get her on the stretcher, doctor and two RN's in there... the baby is coming out. But the baby has only been in that warm, safe, secret place for 19 weeks.

But he or she is coming out. That tiny little life. Not ready for outside life yet. Quick, get obstetrics. Luckily they're just down the hall. "I'm sorry, you've lost the baby". She starts to weep. And weep. We call in the husband, he's there, holding her hand and speechless and so awkward and helpless. "We prayed for so long" "Seven years trying, no drugs, no treatments, just hope." Finally, this long awaiting pregnancy, and now their hope and their dream is leaving her body, their arms, their life. Husband says, "don't worry sweetie. We can try again. We can try again." What else can he say? I start her IV. Saline drips in, then oxytocin. What cannot be put back in their rightful spot is now stuck in limbo, and must come out.

I look down. Baby's feet and legs. Tiny little legs, but so unmistakeably fully formed little limbs. You knit me together in my mother's womb. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Even if none of those days were in a mother's arms, only from beneath a mother's heart and straight up to heaven. A Father's arms.

Tears down my face. Down our doctor's face, holding the woman's hand as she likely feels her own 20 week old life kicking inside. Trying to be strong, but not hiding our grief for them. This is empathy and this is our job and sometimes it touches the very soul.

I come out of the room to get some warm blankets. Then the tears flow. The charge nurse sees me come out and leads me away and puts her arm round my shoulder. I stand stunned at the desk.

Meanwhile the 45 year old woman in 19 has no idea that her 6 week gradually increasing, now excruciating headache is from an ever growing tumour. Simple outport Newfoundlanders... she is stomach-sick, not nauseous, and she just takes the tyl'nol and hopes it will go away. But it didn't. And now, it likely won't. More death.

I leave the hospital and I walk through the snow and go find my husband and hug him as tight as I can. And cry. "I'm here".

Death and tears... love and life.

What a day.


I have tried to leave out any identifying details for the sake of patient confidentiality. But it is all true. And it all happened very recently. This is a job like no other.

the dawn treader

I've been meaning to post something for a few days but just haven't got around to it. Not because I haven't had any time. Haven't worked since Monday, though I am working tomorrow. Sometimes it's hard not to be frustrated about shift work. I have all these days off during the week, and then tomorrow I will get up when it's still dark and work all day on a Saturday. Though to be fair, Brian has work to do tomorrow too. And we did have lots of quality time together this week. (thanks to a new game called Agricola- it's really fun, and pretty complicated- a birthday present from Mom and Dad Claus.) Like Mum says, I should just enjoy my time off- enjoy not being tired and stressed out from the busy ER- and have lots of time to think and relax and get little tasky things done. The work will come, it always does.

There was a coupon in the fliers for a one week free deluxe membership at the gym on campus so I did take advantage of that. Swam a few times, ran on the indoor track, even did an aerobics class. I'm not really one for gyms though. I didn't even go near the treadmills and weights. The aerobics class was okay, but I felt a bit uncoordinated. I liked the running inside though, on the track. And I do really enjoy swimming as well. It was nice, though, to do some indoor exercise in shorts or a bathing suit when its frigid outside.

We brought home some Dutch food that we got as a reward for making oliebollen for New Year's at the Dutch Shop... I just had a slice of gember koek. Mmmm. It's a rectangular brick of fairly dryish, dark rye cake with chunks of ginger in it. Not exactly gourmet, but I happen to think that it's delicious.

I think that I'm looking forward to spring this year more than any other year. Last year, we got engaged at about this time so I was really looking forward to summer. But at the same time, I needed lots of time to plan the wedding. This year- It's not that I'm not enjoying where we're at now. But I'm looking forward to a warm house, with windows open-- not having them sealed shit with insulating plastic. And having the temperature in here above 15 degrees so my fingers don't get so cold when I type, and and so that it's a mad dash to get out of warm sweaters and into bed at night. And just the spring flowers and greenery. But I think that this is a common phenomenon this time of year. The anticipation of spring, though it is a long way off still.

And winter has its own charms, its true. Sparkly snow and steamy hot drinks. Mittens and hats. Icy.

Also, in relation to the title of this post- Brian and I saw the Voyage of the Dawn Treader on Sunday night. It was excellent. I absolutely love Narnia. I think they could even be counted as my favourite books of all time. Aslan, oh Aslan..... "In your world, you will call Me by another name"-- the connections between Christianity and this fantasy world are multiple and beautiful and fantastic. I love it. And when Reepicheep crosses the wall of water to go to Aslan's Country, the tears were rolling. I couldn't help it. It was just such a beautiful picture of death not being death- of being a crossing to another better, more long awaited place. Something about the whole thing.. about Aslan standing there with the others, telling them it was not their time yet, and that they had unfinished work to do- all of it just made my heart burst. Narnia seems to do that to me for some reason. I feel a bit silly about it, but it's true, so why not embrace it? :)

and now, back to Newfoundland....

Pippy Park with the birthday boy

morning coffee sun

holidays 2010... pictured here

Family pic! We're all here-- this is pretty special

Pouring some Kilkennys... a family affair

two ducks

my favourite men in the whole world

More to come....

turn the page

Yesterday, it was the year two thousand and ten.

Today, it is two thousand and eleven.

First, to look back. What a year! I started off the year in Prince George with Brian and Mom and Dad Claus, Dave and Krista. We played some fun games and relaxed and talked and I don't even know if we realized when 2009 passed off to 2010. Sometimes things just sneak up on you.

Such as the ring and the question that Brian presented me with on January 24, 2010. Joyous.

March included a trip to Ontario to see my family after 7 months away and to celebrate with them.

April, May, June flew by- adventuring in Newfoundland, planning a wedding, looking forward to things to come. Yet still savouring the present. Being engaged was a special season.

July 31 I flew to Ontario to enter into my final two weeks of singlehood. They were an amazing whirlwind.

August 13 I walked down the aisle and Brian and I vowed to love and to cherish each other as long as we both shall live.

The days, weeks and months after that have been spent learning what those vows mean. Or to start learning, at least- its a lifetime journey. To love each other and build our marriage and our faith together as we learn just so, so much. It's hard to really say just how good its been. How challenging and stretching sometimes, but oh so good.

We went to Niagara Falls, to Huntsville, Algonquin Park. San Francisco, the California coast. Oregon. Monterrey Bay. And then, back to our St. John's. Our rugged wild foggy rock in the North Atlantic.

I feel like our roots are extending deeper into St. John's. Being away from it always helps me to see that, as we have spent our holidays in Grimsby. (and they have been great!). Seeing faces I have known for so long and spending time with family and seeing how everyone is doing and what's going on in their lives now... to really catch up.

More on all that later. In the mean time, happy new year!
2011- God, the one who sees the whole year ahead, holds us tightly as we enter into it.

Therefore, rest secure.

December days

Mr Marmalade

"Ya, this is my street"

Downtown

City lights, ambulance-- Water St downtown

Gingerbread house making

Christmas dinner at Mosaic

I don't have time to write anything cause we're leaving for the airport in T-30 mins.. yesssss. :)

just a couple pics

my favourite teapot

The desk that Brian made! I was impressed.

the month of December

 Cabin on Lake Louise, Alberta. My favourite from a series of awesome snow pictures found here: http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/12/let_it_snow.html

There is no snow in St. John's right now. And to be truthful, I don't mind. Living in Victoria and Vancouver on the coast of BC got me liking the rainy winters. I do love snow, but not the snow of the Avalon Peninsula where we live here in Newfoundland.  Because it's such a funny piece of land stuck right into the north Atlantic, we get awful precipitation. It snows like crazy, but then it will be raining a few hours later, leaving a slushy, gross mess. That just piles up on the street. Getting anywhere by foot is a messy, dangerous, sloppy and dirty business. So, I don't mind this mild rain. If I was living somewhere that got powdery luxurious fluffy snow, that would be different.

The cabin above does look awfully cozy though.

For some reason this year I have been really struck by the consumeristic nature of Christmas. I remember thinking this last year too, that I noticed it more than any other year. And I think that a lot of it has to do with the people that I work with. Mostly just cause the demographics are different from those I worked with in Vancouver. It's also a different perspective from when I was in school. The majority of them are mothers with children. And there just seems to be a bit of a stressed out, perfectionistic attitude about Christmas and all it entails. 


Let me explain. First the kids have to write their letters to Santa detailing precisely what they want. Not a list of ideas, but the specific items that they want. Feel are absolutely necessary to their survival. Then, the parents look at these lists and begin the mad search to find absolutely every item on that list, down to the last detail. It doesn't matter if they are spending a few hundred dollars on each kid, if they go into debt, if they battle the two malls serving hundreds of square kilometres of Newfoundland, if they shop online. They must find these things or they will be bad parents. They also need to decorate the house absolutely perfectly, and buy gifts for the entire extended family as well. And get the kids pictures with Santa, because it's a yearly tradition and must be done even if they are waiting in the mall with said screaming kids for hours to do so. And through all this perpetuating the whole Santa thing. I heard some of the ladies talking once about "oh, he still believes" "what am I doing to do when she doesn't believe any more?" as though they were talking about something as serious as faith itself. But no, it was about a fantasy man who will bring their kids everything they want, but only if they are good. (It's a good thing that's part of the whole deal, so parents can threaten their kids with it for this entire hectic month when trying to keep them in line).

I know that this all probably sounds a bit cynical. And I am probably exaggerating. And in no way is everyone like that at work. I guess it's more just what I have been noticing more in life in general. I don't think that there is anything wrong with some harmless Santa in people's lives. He can even bring some of the presents, just for fun. Maybe even put out some milk and cookies for him.

As an aside, it's interesting when your last name is Claus. I don't think it does very much for the believability of the whole story. Brian didn't really have much to do with Santa growing up and I feel that it will be pretty much the same for our future children. Hehe.

But I just think that it's a bit sad. People are so busy rushing around that they don't even think about the real reason why we have this holiday in the first place. It is about giving and receiving, among many other things. About hanging out with family and friends and being festive. But, as cliche as it sounds, Jesus is the reason for the season. I can still hear that being sung in my head from elementary school musicals. 


What about that little baby in the manger, the star in the east, the virgin mom and shy carpenter, the humble shepherds and the travelling wise man and Glory to God in the Highest?

I'm all for celebrating. I can't wait to go back to Ontario and see family and just be together. And give them a few gifts. Not too many. Just a few carefully chosen and well thought out ones. Mum will probably have her classic box of chocolates labelled 'From Santa" under the tree. That's about as far as he made it into our house growing up. I look forward to the church services and the carols and the joyful faces on Christmas morning with handshakes- "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" "Ere Zij God"--- the classic Dutch hymn, one of the slowly dwindling remaining signs of my childhood church's heritage. Candles and thankfulness. Joy.

But may we quiet down our busy hearts. Look for the small joys and simple pleasures. Enjoy a glass of egg nog or mulled wine, apple cider and fresh cookies. Take joy in the giving and receiving of gifts. Look at those around us and show them that same love that the baby in the manger brought to us. Or try to, at least. But that's what grace is for.

So, that's what I think. 

Overall, though, the ultimate is this:


O Come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.