All posts tagged General

Blog Action Day Post: Water. aka Lawns are Stupid and Here's Why.

This years Blog Action Day post was initially a little bit of a challenge. I live in urban Australia, where clean drinking water is plentiful and wasted. I am tremendously lucky. So lucky that I, and those around me, take it for granted every single day. I used to work for the government in Essential Service Delivery projects, and had a fair bit of exposure to the reality of water scarcity. Despite its relative abundance in Perth, there are still remote Aboriginal communities who have unreliable sources of drinking water. Worldwide, it is even worse.

in 2010, due to increasing water scarcity, we now have water restrictions and sprinkler bans in the wet months. This is an excellent thing, but surprisingly, people still seem to not quite get it.

I remember when we moved into a house where the landlords lived next door. They were older, in their 70s, and he LOVED HIS LAWN. He loved his garden. He loved his vege garden and he obviously got immense pleasure from it, because he was obsessed. I remember him knocking on the door, demanding that we break the sprinkler ban to water the lawn. The lawn looked fine, it was watered on its 2 days a week and mowed. This started a conflict which eventually led to us leaving the house (because he was more obsessed with the lawn than he was about the walls not collapsing from desrepair!). We lived in a lot of houses over the years, were good tenants, but I was always curious about this fixation with the perfectly manicured lawn.

The lawn has long been the ultimate symbol of suburban, nuclear family “success” in Australian culture. We invented the lawnmower. There are several aisles at Bunnings dedicated to the growing, patching and maintaining of a few square metres of grass. And if that grass grows a few inches out of where we want it to, there’s another aisle so that you can BLAM! with a shovel and poison and edging.

And yet, pesticides, herbicides, lawnmower fuels… not to mention the ridiculous waste of water resources (and the side point of wasting one’s life in pursuit of pointless suburban “perfection”…) just keeping it all alive… doesn’t seem to bother them. they’ll even fight against the water restrictions so they can maintain their lawn.

But, the reality is, we live in Perth. In Western Australia. In one of the driest states in one of the hottest countries in the world. We should not be trying to maintain lawns. We should not be trying to maintain cottage gardens. We should try to readjust our thinking about these things as symbols of a “good” neighbour and a “bad” one. We should actually be looking at lawn obsession with the same passion as we do smokers. Because people who are obsessed with lawns are also using our scarce resources (whether it is off a bore or not is irrelevant) in the name of vanity. In new housing estates, we should not be putting in lawns or grass as standard. We should be encouraging natives, or rock gardens, or ecologically friendly plants. We should not be clearing land and inserting artificial lakes into a suburb to save a few bucks. This should be seen not as the “done”, “normal” thing, but the irresponsible and greedy thing.

Sustainable living is about far more than just light globes and recycling. And none of us are perfect. I am definitely not. We all do things that are wasteful or indulgent and I acknowledge that just because *I* don’t value “the lawn” doesn’t mean it’s not important to others. But at the same time, we need to get real about how we use our water. Times are different. The lawn should shift from a symbol of pride and status to one of indulgence and wastefulness. Because it is.

Her Mother's Daughter. Happy Birthday Mina.

Right now, there’s a blank page and a cursor staring at me, but that’s not from a lack of interest or not having anything to say. In fact, Mina, it’s quite the opposite. There is just so much I want to say that I am finding it difficult to know where to begin. Because I feel the pressure to be all…insightful. And intelligent. And deep. And write things that impress you and make you think your Mum knows stuff. But, in reality, the way I feel about you can literally be summed up in one single word: awesome.

I have been chomping at the bit to write this post all week. I have been trying to think of the best angle to try and make it all witty and about me and all that… but… you know, as you get older, these posts become less about me and how *I* feel, and more about you, and how incredible you are. Which, for a full blown narcissist like me, is tough to admit… but… you are becoming your very own person.

And I love that. I love that you are growing into this… person. With, like, opinions. And thoughts. And the ability to go to the toilet on your own and put on your own clothes… and play computer games and stuff. I still marvel at this person who has been a part of my life for 9 years and 8 months… that raven haired, intense little baby girl, growing into a beautiful, smart, intense person.

The intensity has always been there, but the one thing that amazes me is your ability to understand things that are so much bigger than other kids your age. I spent a lot of time trying to shelter you from the world, but this last year, you have had to live with experiences that you really shouldn’t have to… especially not all together in such a short time. Watching your Dad go from worker, to injured, to suicidal, to “mother”. Watching your mother sob, in your arms, in a way you’ve never seen her sob before, having to comfort her, because the only person she has is lying in a hospice bed waiting to die. Watching your parents marriage slowly disintegrate, and possibly knowing it was over well before either of us were able to say it. Realising lots of things about the world, and how hard and unfair it can be, on top of being 8 and the world being scary anyway… and… you know… it’s been a remarkable year. A really, really shit year.

There are lots of ordinary people out there, and I think you are starting to become aware of it already. And I think you know already, that you aren’t like the other kids. My heart broke into a million pieces a few weeks ago when you came home, burst into tears, and told me that everyone thinks that you are weird. And I know how it feels to be the weird kid, because I was the weird kid. And my heart broke into a million pieces because I, too, was 9 once. I, too, was creative and smart and saw the world differently from everyone else, including my family. And I escaped into music, and books, and my own head. From time to time, I would meet a teacher who got me, but for the most part, I lived the life of the weird kid… and to hear you talk about it, it’s not what I wanted for you.

But you know, if there’s one thing I am learning, is that eventually you will appreciate it. You are in for a bit of a hard time in high school – there is no doubt about that – but, if there is one thing I can emphasise, it’s that being weird is a good thing. Being different is a good thing. Seeing the world differently to everyone else? Yes, it can sometimes be a curse, but it is actually a precious gift. You may not realise it in your teens, or your twenties, or even beyond, but eventually, there will come a time where you realise that you are special, because you are wise. And wisdom is not something you can learn – it is something inate, inborn, and as sorry as I am for you feeling like the weird kid right now, on the other hand I am thrilled that you are different. You are also lucky, because no matter how you feel about it, I get it. I’ve been there. I understand that constant struggle to try and fit in even when you know you are different. And you know this already but you have me and I understand.

You make me laugh, because you are such a control freak it drives me crazy. You make lists, and notes, and try to plan things down to the finest detail. You requested I make you cupcakes – 10 pink, 10 purple, 10 blue. You made a list. you then checked up on me to see I was making them correctly. And I got a bit pissy because I was being micromanaged by my 9 year old daughter. And then I laughed. Because there is only one thing worse than being micromanaged by your child – and that is the sudden realisation that your daughter is exactly like her mother. You drive me nuts because we are the same and it makes me laugh.

You are like me to the point where I hear Grandma Chris’ little sayings creeping in, like “you are a genius but you have no common sense”, or “that girl will NOT SLEEP”. And I laugh. Because as much as Grandma lives on in me, I like to think that on some level the relationship I had with her, will live on in you and I. And that makes me smile. Because much like me and Grandma shared an understanding that noone else quite got, I hope that you and I will remain connected, even when we clash, at some fundamental level – with you knowing that I get you. And I love you. And I would do anything to protect you from the pain and harshness of the world, even when I know that it is impossible, and even when I know that you are tough enough to handle anything.

The next letter I write to you will be you turning 10. Heading into the teens, becoming someone who is bound to hate me for some of the time. And that’s OK. I find it bizarre that I have a 9 year old daughter, especially one that will help by getting her brothers breakfast and letting the dog out. But I watch you, and it helps me to feel like I am doing an OK job. And as messy as things might get, I want you to know that even when it doesn’t appear that way, you come first. Always.

Always.

And I hope that when I leave this earth, that you and your brothers will mourn with the intensity and gut-wrenching sadness that I do for Grandma. That I can create memories that become your saviour when you miss me and can’t see straight for the grief. And that there will be moments, where you talk to your own children, and you hear my voice. And laugh. And then I’ll know I did OK. And you will laugh, because you’ll be weird and warped like me and that will be a good thing.

I love you Mina and I am proud of you. Hang in there, it’ll be OK.

My last will and testament

This started on Twitter and it made me laugh and I wanted to keep it :)

  1. I want a decoupage tombstone.
  2. @jasonjordan will MC my funeral in a Gimp Suit
  3. My funeral song shall be “Shaddup Your Face”
  4. My children shall be forced to live with their grandparents muahahahahahahahahaha
  5. The food at my funeral shall be an assortment of ball-shaped foods.
  6. My ashes shall be scattered #onyourface
  7. @sebsharp can have my sex toys
  8. I bequeath all of my debt to the animal shelter.
  9. I offer to donate my body to science, ONLY if they make a midget lift me onto the table. On his own.
  10. @sebsharp can have all of my sex toys, with the exception of the 13″ stainless steel one, who I bequeath to @shelly1912
  11. Scrap the ashes. I shall be stuffed and put on a seat at @Mooba as a deterrent for Exomod spies.
  12. My children are required to point toward the Apple store at hourly intervals and salute.
  13. I would like my bum to me made into a nice lamp.
  14. If my death is suspicious, I consent to an autopsy, limited ONLY to left ring finger.
  15. If you memorialise my Facebook account, clean my fish tank & harvest my crops whilst you are there, thanks.
  16. If you sleep with my ex, beware, he’s crap in the sack. Hence the toys.
  17. The invitations for my funeral shall cost no more than $1.99 & need to have bedazzling
  18. You shall, as a community, commit to tweeting no less than once every 23 seconds in my honour.
  19. If you find… the thing… in the… thing… you know what to do :)
  20. @jaso32 remember to put the bins out.
  21. If I could at all come back as a vampire, when I die tonight, please let me be a GOOD vampire, not a shit Twilight one.
  22. If I manage to communicate with you after I am gone, cover your ears for it shall be Dexter spoilers.
  23. If I do actually die, which is a certainty, I nominate @mrsisterchris to tearfully (vomitly) read out this list.

Unexpected growth. Oh, and tired.

So, it seems that I am going to start just about every one of these posts with a whinge about how tired I am. So, how about I just get it out of the way: I. am. tired. I am mostly tired because I am finding it hard to get into a routine – or at least – find a routine that also allows me to a) earn a living for my family b) get my study done and c) get more than 3 hours sleep a night. As I mentioned in my previous post, I am running a web design business and studying a full time load, so it’s pretty exhausting.

I came home one day last week and noticed that my son (18 months) was heavier. That is generally a sign that I haven’t seen my kids much, and in this case, it’s right. I haven’t seen my 9 year old daughter in what feels like months, and the middle boy (nearly 5), well, the only time I see him is when he seeks me out. It’s not a good balance.

And the thing that scares me, at this very moment, is that I am about to get a whole lot tireder.

I am genuinely surprised about the knock-on effects of this decision to become a Doctor. I am not sure if it is related to turning 30, or that I have opened a Pandora’s Box of figuring out (and asserting) what I want out of life, but something major has shifted in me. I feel a little bit like I am suddenly evaluating all of the choices I made up to this point – all of the things I have done out of obligation, or habit, or societal expectation… and its like the decision to uproot my life and try to do Medicine has made me question everything else, including my marriage. Like my previous career (s!), my marriage is not a bad one. I’d be okay if I stayed, but there’s just something that I am yearning within it that makes me feel incomplete. And I need to be separated to figure it out.

Because the feeling that I have when I am at a Lab, or studying the Sciences? It makes me feel complete. It might sound crazy, but Chemistry was something I was told was hard, that I was a creative-brain and that I wouldn’t cope with it. So I didn’t do it. Same with Physics. Others expectations of what I should do and how I should feel prevented me from finding my passion. Because to me, Chemistry & Physics are simply applied Philosophy. Nobody ever told me that Aristotle is as much the Grandfather of Science as he was of Political Philosophy. Noone ever said that Classical Philosophy had as much of a scientific application as a creative one. And I feel a bit let down by that, because if Chemistry had been explained to me in terms of the search for meaning or understanding the world around us, or explaining the Universe… I would have taken to Science 10 years ago. I think it might be a failing of the public school system that they don’t show the overlap between the Arts and the Sciences. My only exposure to it in high school was Bicarb and vinegar and memorising the periodic table! But, if you show me how osmosis applies in the body, why they put physiologic saline in a drip with drugs… I not only retain it, but I love it.

So I feel a little bit of sadness at how I was a Scientist for all these years and never knew it, purely because the system doesn’t encourage us to find our passion, but to pick a job we can do.

And I am sure all the Doctors that read this will laugh, because right now, I am studying only to get my GPA up so I can get in to Medical School and I am studying basic Chemistry, basic Histology, basic Physics… the sort of thing all you eggheads take for granted. And I may be right-brained but I am home, because I understand *why* these disciplines exist – and that they are a philosophical hypothesis like anything else, and it’s a discipline based on Millennia of thinking and reflecting, like anything else. If anything, I feel that having studied the classics n Philosophy prior to approaching the Sciences will make me a better Doctor, because I get the why as well as the how. Understanding things at the molecular level, and applying it across disciplines… excites me in a way I have never ever been. I want to be a Scholar, not a subset, and the discipline of Medicine is so broad, I am truly excited about my future.

And like cells have an enormous impact on the whole world, that one little decision to pursue my dream of being a Doctor has had a butterfly effect I could not have foreseen. I am truly excited.

Having said that, there are some practical hurdles that I keep coming up against. The main one is time with money a close second. And University bureaucracy is doing my head in, to say the least. My University decided that in order to graduate with the new triple-minor in Politics, Public Policy & Biomedical Science, I needed to take a whole bunch of Politics Units… it meant an additional year of study in something I had already done, so, me being me, went on a bit of a Twitter tanty. We finally negotiated that I could do as initially promised, plus one more Politics unit and that would be fine. I was a ball of stress about all of this, because as it is, the numbers are against me even getting into Med, without being stuffed around on top of it.

As I said earlier, I am full time at University, and working in a business that requires a lot of time. I got out of bed last Monday morning at 6am, to catch the train for an 8:30am lecture, to have the lecturer pretty much read from the slides that are available online. I started the Semester with the intention of attending every single lecture (to show I was committed), but at this point in time, I felt it was unsustainable, and an inefficient use of my time, so I decided to dedicate blocks of time for the whole week’s revision, instead of FOUR 1 hour lectures, on different days, per unit. I feel like I am functioning a little better this week because of it. Because it’s not so much about my commitment to the degree or to getting into Med School… for people who are grown-ups, with jobs and families (and in my case heading into single parenthood for at least a little while), it is about my time being valuable and needing to schedule efficiently. I am still attending all compulsory Labs & Tutes, and doing my best to go to lectures, but at the same time, I need to be aware o burnout. Because I have health issues, stress is not good for me and I need to learn strategies to be efficient rather than super-human.

I hope that I can at least be an example for those other older people considering entering Medical School – that it’s not about the right timing, or having enough money, or being able to take it on. As you get older it only gets harder and more complicated… and if that burning desire is there, and refuses to subside, leap now. It is really hard. It is really exhausting. And it may open up feelings and thoughts that you didn’t expect or realise. My personal growth since the decision to try for Medicine has been a combination of surprising, invigorating and downright terrifying, and you need to be prepared to feel like a different person on the other side. But, I’ll tell you… after my histology lab, with the microscope that was too high and hurt my back, and the eyestrain from staring at my own eyelashes for 2 hours, and the migraine that followed… I felt a sense of bliss like never before. The week before, I was wrist deep in cow’s guts and I have never been happier. And I was in a first year dissection lab, fighting back tears because I was just so overwhelmed with excitement and privilege to have gotten even to that point… it is so worth it.

And I know that on my first day of Medical School, I will sob like a baby. Because it has taken not only a tremendous amount of physical energy, but the emotional and spiritual transformations I have inadvertently discovered along the way, and I will feel so lucky to have the opportunity to even be there.

Which is why, whenever I feel tempted to pack it all in (which happens at least every second day), I think of that moment. Not even finishing Med School, or being a Resident, or finding my speciality, but I think about that very first day of Medical School, and that feeling that I have discovered my calling and my dream, and that feeling of nothing but pure excitement, and an immense feeling of privilege and humility, that will make all of this tiredness, separation logistics, forever teetering on bankruptcy, worth every second.

The first of many firsts

The first day of the rest of my life started today at 7:00am. I had been up till 4am working. I had every intention, of course, of getting up to speed with the unit, but unfortunately, the need to earn income is a priority, so of course, I am up until 4am.

Of course, staying up until 4am for a 7am rise is not sustainable, and definitely not something a Doctor would advise – although by now I am already aware of the irony of the superhuman efforts it takes to train as a Doctor and the advice we are told to give others when THEY do it. So, on the first day, I figure I have learned that it is day one of doing as I say, not as I do.

So, I’m tired and have a full day of Uni. Of course, a lot of this could have been avoided if I had told myself at 21 that I was going to want to be a Doctor and that I had better make sure my T’s are crossed and my I’s dotted. But, you know, instead I have an Undergraduate Degree that has 2 failed Semesters, dragging my GPA to down to 4.

I have a degree in Politics and a minor in Legal Studies, so what I have done is enrol in a degree that will credit me with another Arts degree, but because I have to do at least 24 points at the University, it is structured with 3 minors. So, I have covered 2 of the minors and am doing a third minor in Biomedical Science. Which, if all goes well, I graduate with a GPA of 6 and make myself more competitive.

It’s certainly not the easiest road. I am the main income earner for my family because my husband is injured, so basically I have committed to full days at University, cutting up animals, learning the Chemistry and Physics I need for GAMSAT, and then doing a full days work in the evenings.

So anyone who looks at me sideways about being a Doctor, saying the hours are shit? Well… I am used to it.The first year I get paid will be a sweet relief and ironically, it feels as though an internship at a tertiary hospital will be a walk in the park! And I could not even think about doing this if my husband worked full time. So as much as I complain about being tired, I also know that I am one of the lucky ones that has flexible enough work to go to University.

But, it’s hard. I joked on Twitter that I was thinking of getting corporate sponsorship, finding some sick, rich old guy that wants me to cure him… I am very stressed about the financial aspects of supporting the family and running a business, and frankly, sometimes it seems impossible.

But this week, I officially started formal preparation for GAMSAT. It’s both exciting and terrifying and I get to cut up my very first mammal today. I am the proud owner of a $25 dissection kit and I am thrilled about it, but there is a part of me that worries I may not have what it takes.

For the younger folks thinking of going for Medicine, do it now. Because sometimes it feels really hard, with all the grownupness and commitments alongside everything else. It’s only my first day of BioMed and it’s not the material that phases — it’s all the other stuff I have to do JUST TO BE ABLE TO ATTEND LECTURES. I’m tired. It’s only 11am and I am exhausted and I will have to work till midnight tonight to support my family.

But, it’s worth every second because despite the insecurities, the heavy books, the sitting-in-a-room-with-kids and the neglecting of my family, (and the ever haunting voice in my ear that tells me I am doing this all to not get in anyway!), I feel like, for the first time in my life, I am home and feeling lucky that I have the opportunity and privilege to do this.

A douche and a turd sandwich.

Tonight’s leadership debate has further proven the contempt that both major parties seem to have for the Australian people. They focused on vilifying refugees – the most vulnerable people in the WHOLE WORLD – and chose to ignore issues like health, aged care, aboriginal essential services (which are embarrassing), youth, education… the list goes on.

In other words, they focused on 0.01% of people who DON’T VOTE at the expense of everything else. Shame.

I am embarrassed that these two people are the top of the pile of our elected representatives. What’s worse is that I know this isn’t true – there are good people in all parties and these two are the ones that have schemed their way to the top.

I am both embarrassed to be Australian and proud to be Green today. But holy shit, I am disappointed that people even think that either of these two people are fit to lead this country – the one that was apparently built BY IMMIGRANTS WHO FLED WAR (including their OWN PARENTS), the one that mythologises the Fair Go but in reality is all about resentment over someone they *perceive* to be getting more than them.

It’s disgusting.