de Craciun 2015

Craciun fericit!

A mai trecut un an cu bucurii mai mari si mai mici. Mai mult mai mari decat mai mici as fi tentata sa zic.

Pentru mine anul se termina la Craciun. Si incepe in Martie. Pe 1 Martie. Perioada dintre este o perioada de plutire in care te gandesti, razgandesti, hotarasti si reshotarasti ce vei face anul viitor. In cazul meu unde mergi in vacanta(da,stiu, first world problems), daca iti cumperi sau nu masina si daca da de care, mutatul intr-un nou apartament(all bymyselfffff, at last!), daca schimbi locul de munca sau nu(si meanwhile, OMFG mai am si anul asta 2examene de supraspecializare), a depune sau nu cererea de cetatenie franceza si dosarul de ph.

Viata este cum ne-o facem, mereu am sustinut asta. Dar, clar, daca nu ai un dram de noroc este foarte complicat sa iti urmezi visele.

Dutuleii au venit in vacanta la Strasbourg si stau la mine de 3 saptamani. Au fost 3 saptamani de pace, bucurie, plimbari, indestulare, toate asezonate cu zambete multe si voie buna. Este bine cateodata sa ai iar 10 ani, sa-ti aduca parintii cafeaua la pat, sa faca si sa puna masa. Sa fie casa vesela si plina de oameni, constant cel putin 4. Sa mergem sa mancam la prieteni si sa fii mandra de parintii tai ca de astrele de pe cer. Sa zici:"Una este luna si unici sunt parintii mei!". Au niste social skill-uri de ma dau pe spate constant!

Prima cina a fost la un cuplu mixt de prieteni(ea frantuzoaica, el britanic, bebe oscar mixt si pisica Rita tafnoasa), totul a mers ca uns. Am ras, am mancat, am schimbat cadouri, ne-am jucat cu Oscar, am fugarit-o pe Rita(sportul meu preferat de week-end)  iar ai mei au fost ca pestii in apa. Am discutat mai ales despre mirodenii si feluri de mancare. Vinul a curs, la fel si ciocolata si fricile ascunse. Oamenii sunt buni, iar parintii mei sunt geniali!

A doua cina a fost la un cuplu de prieteni iranieni. Dupa ce si-au revenit ai mei din socul initial produs de grandoarea apartamentului si de covoarele persane(de la mama lor) s-au dezlegat limbile datorita caviarului iranian, whiskey-ului si a muzicii(greceasca, iraniana, jazz american). S-au despartit ca fratii, tata primind in cadou argintarie antica, ei fiind colectionari. No bun, oamenii sunt buni, iar parintii mei geniali.

Cina de Craciun am servit-o cu Tina(prietena mea slovena, Dr in bio-chimie, I'm so proud of her!), Fulga(colocatara) si ai mei. Alcoolul a dezlegat limbile si a deschis sufletele iar la sfarsit vorbeam toti "balcanica". Sintagma preferata,fiind:"Haide misco!!" A2a zi Tina a miscat-o spre Slovenia iar noi spre centrul Strasbourg-ului!

Am avut un orar foarte incarcat de citit beletristica, plimbat, pozat si odihnit.
Maine plecam la Brasov iar apoi eu ma intorc la Strasbourg.
Vesti bune noul an imi aduce cu formari la Paris, Nantes, Montpellier, Nancy si Strasbourg.

Asa ca va doresc si voua un an nou plin de bucurii,impliniri personale si profesionale.

La anul si la multi ani!

PS: va las cu un snob si o soparla. Iar sportul nr2, dupa fugarirea Ritei prin apartament, este alergatul diminieata dupa tramway, ca sa nu intarzi la munca.

 

my patients 1

" Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that?

I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who need reasons when you've got heroin?"


Trainspotting. Classic.

Morphine

Sur la Morphine


"       C'est n'est pas "un état d'anxiété", c'est une morte lente qui s'empare du morphinomane pour peu qu'on le prive de sa morphine une heure ou deux.  L'air lui fait défaut, il ne peut pas l'avalere...pas une cellule de son corps qui ne soit pas en manque... de quoi?  Impossible à définir ou à expliquer.   Bref, l'homme n'est plus.  Il est déconnecté.  Ce qui se meut, ce qui s'angoisse, ce qui souffre, c'est un cadavre.  Il n'aspire et ni ne pense à rien d'autre qu'à la morphine. 
       
         La morphine!

         Mourir de soif est un mort paradisiaque, bienheureuse, comparée à la soif de morphine.  C'est ainsi, sans doute, qu'un enterré vivant s'efforce d'attraper les dérisoires dernières bulles d'air de son cercueil et se lacère la poitrine avec les ongles.  C'est ainsi qu'un hérétique gémit et se débat sur le bûcher lorsque les premières flames lui léchent les pieds... La mort, une mort à sec, à petit feu ..."

 

                    Mikhail Bulgakov, "MORPHINE"


Pentru ca Bulgakov este in topul meu 10.
Pentru ca addictia nu este o probleme de vointa.
Pentru ca addictia te face sa zbori, te ajuta sa traiesti dar te si ingroapa de viu.
Pentru ca oamenii astia sunt oameni speciali.
Pentru ca au nevoie sa fie intelesi, sprijiniti si vazuti.
Pentru ca oamenii astia sunt tot ceea ce este ascuns in noi!







Din punct de vedere muzical cred ca this deep amazing voice sounds a lot like morphine. Mark Sandman died in 1999, infarct.

Prison break 3. Death and all her friends.

We all know that this could happen.

It happened to my colleagues (nurses and doctors). They all have their graveyard. We all have it,as doctors.

But I remember precisely how it happened to me.

12.02 (I was thinking of going out eating something but still had some paper work to do). Phone rings. A nurse answers. She immediately screams in the medical unit : “We have a patient who hang himself! Fast, fast!”

12.04 We took the emergency backpack and we’ve started running on the empty hall ways. The doors from one sector to another one we’re opening so slow. We were running... The doors were slamming back after our passage. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7. doors and 2 floors.

12.10 He is in the “new comers” wing. Second floor. We split. Take the stair it will be quicker. I jump 2 stairs at a time. Second floor. Full of people. I couldn’t see their faces. I could just see the patient, lying down, not moving and the sheets hanging by the window bars.

12.15 A person was already doing the CPR. The patient was not moving, I didn’t have a pulse. He seemed ... We continue the CPR. We don’t want to loose him, we don’t want to call it, we cannot loose him, breathe God damn it. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17.18.19.20.21.22.23.24.25.26.27.28.29.30 1.2. “all hands off the patient!” again and again and again! God if you can hear me, if you are there, please, don’t let him die! At some point I think I’ve realized I cannot do anything and that he was gone.

“ ... and the hardest part was letting go, not taking part ...” (Coldplay).

12.40 The ambulance arrives. They try to intubate him. They call it off.

I don’t remember doing the way back to the medical unit. I think I’ve cried but silently as the nurse student was in shock. When I’ve arrived to the medical unit everyone knew what happened after the look of my face. I got hugs and everyone kept on saying that we did everything possible. He would have done it any how sooner or latter. Somehow, it didn’t comfort me. How could it?

It was my patient. I did everything. He died, hung, in a prison cell, alone. Young, too young, had a family.

I felt weak. I felt Small, Guilty, Inefficient. He shouldn’t have been dead.

And then I realized he was not my first and he will not be my last. Because I’m a M.D. and sometimes you can simply not save them. It’s just that the whole system is wrong. I dislike prisons and any kind of structure who uses the abuse of power. Maybe this man didn’t belong in prison. When abuse it’s the only way of justice death and all of her friends come along.

And I am tired but I won’t give in (or at least I’ll try).

“ Cause sometimes you just feel tired, 

  Feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up.

  But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength

  And just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up

  And not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse.

   Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out 

   Till my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth. 

   Till the smoke clears out. 

   Am I high? Perhaps I'ma rip this s*** till my bones collapse...

...I will not fall, I will stand tall.” (Eminem)

  

 So I hope that he’s in a better place. He would have done it sooner or latter prison or not prison. I have a bitter taste though. See you at a bitter end (Placebo).

And oh I do not fancy your life “dramas” as I know that worse is and always will be possible.

canicula.1q84

Ca sa inteleg adevaratul sens al cuvantului canicula m-am mutat eu in Franta?
NU!

Ca ma topesc ca o inghetata pe canapea, sa transpir iesind de la dus, sa fac alergie, la propriu, m-am mutat eu in Strasbourg?
NU!

Si atunci va intreb eu pe voi WTF??!! 41° toata ziua, 35° grade noaptea! How am I suppose to sleep? How am I suppose to function working all day long without air conditioning? Nu v-ati fi asteptat la asta de la un spital din Franta,nu? Ei bine realitatea este cruda si inflexibila : nu este aer conditionat, avem doar ventilatoare care recircula doar aerul cald (deci, eficienta zero) si lucram cu halatele din bumbac peste hainele de strada. DAR avem dus la munca!  Este, dom'le, ca trag cu urechea si cu ochiul toti colegii de sex masculin (cu exceptia celor gay si poate a celui transexual?!) nu mai conteaza. Oricum in momentul in care iesi de la dus esti acoperit de transpiratie, so why bother? (cred ca pe varianta asta functioneaza pacientii mei care isi imagineaza ca, fiind uzi in permanenta nu mai am au nevoie de dus ca doar si ala tot cu apa sa face, macar transpiratia e moka).

In afara de canicula asta infecta am si vesti bune.
De la inceputul lui mai am inceput sa lucrez si la spital, pe addictologie. Finally I am payed for doing the specialty that I was trained to do. And I'm loving it in all her complexity, addictology is the QUEEN! When I am not doing this I am at prison break. Everything advances as planned. Soon I will conquer the world!


Meanwhile I am saving money for buying a car (asta dupa ce mi-am dat seama ca ma pot descurca perfect si fara voiture, mai putin cand sunt de astreint si sunt totusi de astreint o saptamana/5). Deci, desi nu imi face nici o placere deosebita  sa fiu eco unfriendly by buying a new car it seems that I don't have a choice.


In august plec in V A C A N T A. Atat de bine ilustrat e cuvantul asta de hit-ul Madonnei :




Plec D O U A SAPTAMANI I N T R E G I in Vietnam! My feet are itchy already! I haven't been on a trip since Mai, S(LOVE)ENIA si Venice (blearch, o sa scriu poate vreodata un post despre cum mi-a displacut profund Venetia si despre cum SLOVENIA KICKS ASS).

Asta daca nu o sa ma descompun pana atunci, din cauza caldurii.

Intr-o zi ma intorceam de la Prison Break, cu tramvaiul, si eram foarte concentrata in unul de cursurile de addicto : cred ca era cel despre complicatiile hepatice ale exogenozei cronice. Si cum aveam castile in urechi, eram concentrata in lumea mea in mod :"vizualizare 3d a cirozei hepatice". La un moment dat mi s-a parut ca barbatul asezat pe scaunul din fata mea incearca sa comunice cu mine asa ca imi scot castile din urechi si intreb, politicos, "pardon?". La care omul ma intreaba daca asta este meseria mea, sa ingrijesc "aceste" persoane. I-am raspuns obosita si mandra ca : "Oui." La care acel necunoscut mi-a zis admirativ si cu ochii plini de bunatate : "C'est ca l'humanité!".

Si atunci m-am gandit cu bucurie ca o umanista idealista pasionata de literatura si-a gasit manusa perfecta in adictologie. No regrets.

O sa revin in curand, sper, cu o postare despre Slovenia si Venetia. Si poate despre Portugalia (I am deeply in love with this country and with her people).

So see you latter alligator!

reflexion

Story of my life ...


" ... - It wouldn't be bad but I don't like being stuck in one place. I want to be free to go wherever I like and think about whatever I want. I want to live free.
       - But this is not very easy.
       - You're right, it's not easy. But I am determined. I want to be free..."


                                                   "Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage" by HARUKI MURAKAMI

Sunday love

" No more chances.2 strikes. That's what she gets. Russians don't play baseball." OISTNB

Maybe that after all in my Romanian souls it is a Russian part also.
I do business, I don't deal, I don't settle.
If I want something I will get it. With hard work and straight playing. I am afraid that honesty is not "on the wave" since ... forever. So I guess that I'm kind of screwed. But I'll never lose hope. I truly believe that in this world there is a country which is mine, according to my soul and my life principles.


I know that wonderland is something that you create not something that you stumble upon but sometimes it's fucking difficult.


https://soundcloud.com/sonsofrico


" Two speeds in my yard : walk and shuffle!" OISTNB

Car crash

remember, remember the 6th of December 2014 because that was the first day of the rest of my life : I received the gift of life the 2nd time.

play this first :




How today changed my life.

Today I had my first car accident.
I am physically fine. No contusions. Just my ego : broken.
I'm fine, everything's just fine but I am in a shock state which I think it's normal.

I was coming back from Nancy and at some point I was entering from a small road to the highway and my car start spinning. It happened so fast. I spinned like 4 or 5 times and hit the safety bar.

But while I was spinning, I realised that I'm out of control. I was spinning, my hands were clenched on the steering wheel, and my mind was...blank. For the first time in my life I had no idea whatsoever crossing my mind. Nothing! But I am pretty sure that I've seen a rainbow and I am sure that the song playing on the radio was "Beat it" from Mickael Jackson.

Like a robot I put on my security vest, I got out of the car on the other side as on my side the door was deformed, I put the triangle 5 m away from my car. Got back into the car and called the cops. And after a car stopped, the man took me out of the car, on the other side of the road. After what seemed to be an eternity (20 minutes) the cops came, moved my car, filled in the rapport and after that a big truck came and took us (me&Mona, my car) to the service. They told me that it's probably better to buy a new car than to repair Mona. My heart was broken. This is my first car, the first important material stuff that I bought with my own savings since coming in France. It has a big emotional value as it was a gift for my parents.
While I was thinking how should I give my parents the bad news that they don't/won't have a car anymore the truck guy told me :
" Anyways it's just a big  pile of metal! You don't realise how lucky you were that you didn't hit another car/other cars. You could have been dead/handicapped or you could have killed someone."

And then it hit me : he was so right! I was so lucky! I am alive!
But while I was spinning, I realised that I'm out of control. I was spinning, my hands were clenched on the steering wheel, and my mind was...blank. For the first time in my life I had no idea whatsoever crossing my mind. Nothing! But I am pretty sure that I've seen a rainbow and I am sure that the song playing on the radio was "Beat it" from Mickael Jackson.

This was my Saint Nicolas gift for me : the value of life (of course I could have done this a different way but I like pushing my limits and on the other side it would have been less life changing, just another brick in the wall). Dramatic pose. Oh, the fans!


Latter edit (the 9th of January 2015) : MONA is alive, she was saved by my beloved Hizo, our car "fixer" since ... forever. Love, peace and respect because he has the most awesome gold bracelet ("your job is your gold bracelet", Romanian saying).