when life meets reality...


mysterious encounters r déjà vu r serendipity moments r mistakes r opportunities r

to forgive and forget r awkward silences r laughter r joyful tears r love r hopeful comings

** “Story #'s” **

posts that focus on the major movements of my life. They are the stories that make up the journey: When life meets reality.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Story #64: Waiting for my second wind

My free time has been spent looking at photos...




...reading random articles and watching these inspirational videos on TED: Ideas worth spreading


"Normal", autistic, ADD, ADHD, developmental disorders or illnesses, painful or not, they all have their own hidden blessing; its own diamond in the rough. What's yours?
 
When I am re-introduced to a life of motivation and determination, stripping away the laziness that has accumulated over the past few weeks, I will take a journey into living a full busy life and filling my empty time wisely. As stated yesterday, I will exercise and eat healthier; continue with my leisurely readings and slowly increase my Korean speaking skills. Learning and re-learning math, physics and finance with the help of the videos that Salman Kahn has so kindly taken the time to post for millions of people like me to learn at our own pace in the comfort of our own home.
Khan Academy


Rituals signify more than just a passageway or a ceremony, giving formal "rights" to the next phase in a political, societal or individual functions in life. It serves on one or all levels of obligation to the community, "satisfaction of spiritual or emotional needs of the practitioners, strengthening of social bonds, social and moral education, demonstration of respect or submission, stating one's affiliation, obtaining social acceptance or approval for some event—or, sometimes, just for the pleasure of the ritual itself" (wikipedia). It has a symbolic value that reflects an underlying feeling, and an unspoken understanding between those who seek the cultural understanding and enlightenment that is embedded in these momentous rituals. To them, there is a meaning, importance and urgency. Whether if they are small or large, serviced for the poor or the rich, or for the individual or for the mass, there is greater intention than a mere performance.

Examples of rituals: rites of passage of certain societies or cults, oaths of allegiance, inaugurations, marriages and funerals, graduations, themed parties, and "even common actions like hand-shaking and saying hello may be termed rituals" (wikipedia).

Abraham Verghese -- taken from his own written work:
"There is an indelible scene that comes back to me often and without invitation. But in recalling it as I write this, I'm no longer distressed; it has taken all these years to find reassurance in this memory. It harks back to the time when I made regular visits to the sickbeds of patients dying with AIDS in the era before modern therapy. I remember the reluctance, the sense of failure that enveloped me when I went by the room on rounds or paid a home visit. I never knew what to do, what to say. Out of that awkwardness and embarrassment, I'd fall back into the only role I knew to play at the bedside: I'd feel the pulse, then gently pull down the eyelid to see the color of the mucous membrane, then examine the tongue, sound out the hollow chest with the time-honored technique of percussion, listen to the lungs, then feel the abdomen—my ritual. I recall so many pairs of eyes of so many people—all of them now long dead, but their names still vivid, fresh on my tongue—huge haunted eyes in hollowed-out sockets, staring up at me as I performed my exam. And when I was finished, I'd take my leave, and the next day I'd do it again.
I recall one patient who was, at that point, no more than a skeleton encased in shrinking skin, unable to speak, his mouth crusted with candida that was resistant to the usual medications. When he saw me on what turned out to be his last hours on earth, his hands moved as in slow motion, and as I wondered what he was up to, his stick fingers made their way up to his pajama shirt, fumbling with his buttons. I realized that he was wanting to expose his wicker-basket chest to me: it was an offering, an invitation. I didn't decline. I percussed, palpated, and auscultated. I think he surely must have known by then that it was vital for me, just as it seemed necessary for him. Neither of us could skip this ritual, which had nothing to do with detecting rales in his lungs, or finding the gallop rhythm of heart failure. No, this ritual was about the one message that physicians have needed to convey to their patients, although God knows, of late, in our hubris we seem to have forgotten, we seem to have drifted away, as if with the explosion of knowledge, the whole human genome mapped out at our feet, we are lulled into forgetting that the ritual is cathartic to the physician and necessary for the patient, forgetting that the ritual has meaning and a singular message to convey to the patient. And the message, which I didn't fully understand then, even as I delivered it, and which I understand better now, is this: I will always, always be there, I will see you through this, I will never abandon you, I will be with you through the end."

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Contingent on weather, tomorrow I will be taking a few pictures under the guidance of an inspiring individual. I will expand more in tomorrows post!

More updates to come!
Mucho <3

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