A picture that sums up Thanksgiving

Some of you have asked what it is like to cook Thanksgiving for a family with 13 children. I thought this picture was explanatory of our Thanksgiving cooking experience. Monica (4 years old) was included in the picture to put the gigantic pot in scale. The pot is so large Monica can actually climb inside and put the lid on. We know this because she once used this pot as a very clever hiding spot in a highly competitive game of hide and go seek (when the pot was clean and in the pantry of course).

Documentary Film about IDP Camps in Northern Uganda: War/Dance

I thought that you all might be interested in this documentary. I haven't seen it yet, but I have heard it is good. It relates to my experiences in the IDP camps in Northern Uganda.

Anyway, here is the info:
___________________________________________________________________


WAR/DANCE

Directed by: Sean Fine and Andrea Nix Fine
Release Date: November 30, 2007
Running Time: 105 minutes
Rating: "PG-13"


WINNER - "Documentary Directing Prize" at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival





Set in Northern Uganda, a country ravaged by more than two decades of
civil war, WAR/DANCE tells the story of Dominic, Rose, and Nancy, three
children whose families have been torn apart, their homes destroyed, and
who currently reside in a displaced persons camp in Patongo. When they
are invited to compete in an annual music and dance festival, their
historic journey to their nation's capital is also an opportunity to
regain a part of their childhood and to taste victory for the first time
in their lives.

A quote from Voltaire

"Doctors give drugs of which they know little, into bodies, of which they know less, for Diseases of which they know nothing at all." Voltaire

I guess sometimes physicians don't inspire all that much confidence...

Being A Big Sister

Since mom had her hip replacement surgery, I have been trying to go home a lot to help out at the house. It has been slightly stressful trying to juggle family and school but it has also been really fun. I decided to write this entry to highlight the glories of being a big sister.

Being a big sister is really fun. It is like being a mini-celebrity. Or better yet, it is like being a really cool grandma, but without the gray hairs, aches and pains, hearing aides, pill bottles, and quirky habits. (OK, so maybe I have a few quirky habits). I will also caveat this by saying that being a big sister is more fun when your little siblings haven't gone through puberty yet. After puberty they get all into computer games, the internet, and their friends and they become too cool to spend much time with you. A big sister never quite reaches the un-coolness level of mom and dad, but it can get close. For example: I remember many years ago when Paul was 9 years old he got a really nice Lego set for Christmas. I was gone for Christmas visiting my relatives and didn't get back until the 30th of December. When I arrived home Paul showed me his unopened Lego box and told me that he had waited to open it because he wanted to build it with me. Ah.... warm fuzzy memories. Now when I go home I barely see Paul because he is off doing his own thing. Oh well, He is still fun to hang out with, when I actually see him.

Sometimes the popularity of being a big sister can be a bit overwhelming. In the girl's room there are two sets of bunk beds. Sarah and Kalkidan sleep on one set and then Rachel and I sleep on the other set. (Rachel sleeps on the bottom bunk due to her cerebral palsy in her left arm and leg). So last Saturday I woke up early with the feeling that someone was watching me. Sure enough, when I opened my eyes I saw a fuzzy little Afro over the edge of my pillow. With a closer examination of the situation I realized that Rachel was standing up next to the bed with her folded arms resting on the edge of the top bunk and she was discretely watching me sleep. I think this behavior might have originated with the fact that some weekends I like to get up early and sneak out of the room and have some of my own quiet time before others get up. Rachel was ready for me this weekend and wasn't going to have any of this sneaking-out-of-the room behavior. In a groggy voice I asked Rachel if she wanted me to get up. She shook her head 'no,' but continued to stand at the side of the bed staring expectantly. Apparently it was fine if I slept, just as long as she could watch me. I decided to get up and we made pancakes. Rachel had trouble with the whole pancake-flipping skill thing, but we worked out a system where she poured the batter in the pan with a little measuring cup.

(My view when I woke up on Saturday morning. Rachel was very patiently watching me while I slept).


Sarah is just entering the really fun age where she is still curious, really fun, and enjoys spending time with us quaint adults, but she can now do lots of things (i.e. cooking, etc.) that she couldn't do when she was younger. Last week I watched in amazement as Sarah blazed into the kitchen made enough cinnamon rolls for 14 people without a comment or the tiniest assistance from someone older. Also, Sarah is way smarter than I was at her age. Apparently she does her math homework every week without making a single mistake.

Anne is the exception to the less fun after puberty rule - the older she gets the more fun we seem to have with each other. Last Sunday mom was home in bed I took her place next to Anne in church. Anne was in a very good mood that morning and she was vocalizing a lot during the opening singing so I knew that she was having a 'vocal day.' Mom is usually no-nonsense and Anne usually sits quite still beside her during church. However, with me Anne has a tendency to get sort-of playful and silly. After the singing was over I put the bulletin on Anne's tray. I was engrossed in the service and then noticed the bulletin sliding to the edge of the tray and about to slide off. I quickly pushed it back to its original location and looked back at the pastor. Then Anne very intentionally started pushing the bulletin off the edge of the tray again. Ah ha! A game had begun. Every time Anne pushed the bulletin to the edge of the tray she smiled a little more. Soon she was laughing. Andy leaned over and asked why Anne was giggling. I gave my best innocent look and said I had no idea. (Deflecting blame is a privilege of being a big sister). Andy then told me to tell Anne to stop laughing. I gave him a skeptical look. When in the history of humankind, has it worked to tell a 13 year old girl to stop giggling? (You should try this sometime and see what happens). I obediently relayed the message to Anne and told her to stop laughing, which of course, immediate doubled the volume and amount of her giggling. I thought it was a pretty fun church service, although others present may not have agreed.

(Gene showing me where he was adopted from in Russia on the map in our dinning room. OK, so I didn't actually talk that much about Gene in this entry, but he is really cool too. You get the gist of the whole big sister thing).

"Merck's HIV vaccine declared a failure" :-(

I think that everybody in the HIV field is slightly depressed about this at the moment. I thought you all might be interested:

Here is the link if you are interested in reading more:

"The STEP study, a phase II randomized control trial of Merck's HIV vaccine

has revealed this week that the drug is a failure, and may actually have

increased participants' risk of contracting HIV.  The trial was based in

Seattle, but had sites worldwide.  It was decided today that subjects will

be unblinded to which arm of the study they were randomized to.  Dr. John

Bartlett, chief of infectious disease at Hopkins said, 'Some people will say

we're right where we were in 1985 and, in some ways, we are.'"

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/health/2004012829_aidsvaccine14m.html

An interesting class...

So last week in our SHB class we had a lecture on pain. As a guest, a patient came to our class to describe the chronic pain he has been experiencing for many years. He described a very sharp pain between is big toe and the next toe on his left foot. He said it was so horrible it felt like an icepick had been slammed between these two toes. He has undergone countless different procedures and used many different medicines to try to control the pain with only varying degrees of success. So, what was so interesting about all of this? The foot isn't there! This man had his foot/lower leg amputated over 20 years ago, but he still experiences excruciating pain from the missing limb. This is apparently well documented in medicine and is called, "Phantom Limb Pain." We get to see some pretty amazing stuff!

Whew! I don't have TB!

I just wanted to let you all know some exciting news: I don't have TB! You are probably thinking, 'Uh, I didn't know that was something you were worried about.' TB actually wasn't something I was worried until a few weeks ago, but for a few days I was sure that I had it.

As medical students we have to get tested for TB twice during fall quarter of our first year (and then once a year from now on). When they administered the first test they told me it was just to 'prime up' my immune system for the second test. A few days ago they administered the second test and the nurse told me that I had ever been exposed to TB the test would show up positive. I remembered back to the time I spent in the IDP camps in Northern Uganda and then to my visit to the Kibera slum (the largest slum in East Africa) in Nairobi and thought there was probably a pretty good chance that I had been exposed to TB sometime during my trip. I inquired what would happen if I had a positive test and they said that I would have to go for a chest X ray and then have 9 months of daily triple antibiotic therapy. That didn't sound like much fun to me. So needless to say that I was pretty worried when I got the second TB test. However, it two days later I got the test read and it turns out I don't have TB! Whew. What a relief!

My Sister

My Sister

(Forever a draft)

By Christine Lee Harris

Preface

I started working on this poem almost 10 years ago when I was 14 years old. I have hesitated finishing it if for so long because no matter how much I work on it, I still feel it is not good enough to express my true emotions and views on this subject. Perhaps it is akin to a painter trying to capture the essence of a sunset. He may be continually disappointed because a sunset is so breathtakingly beautiful that mere oils and canvas could never do it justice. It may be that the feelings I am trying to express in this poem could never be adequately portrayed on paper. Therefore you will notice that I have labeled the poem as a draft because I have given up the expectation that it I will ever be satisfied.

I began to write this poem after someone went on a tangent about what a burden my sister must be to take care of and what a terrible life she must have. At the time I was startled speechless by such a statement. This poem is what I would have liked to say back to that individual.

My sister is a burden, many say
She cannot walk, she cannot talk
She must be bathed, she must be fed
She is such a burden, is what they say

My sister is a blessing, I respond
Her bright smile fills the room
Her happy spirit cheers our family
My sister is the blessing, is what I say

My sister is deprived, the experts declare
Her quality of life is sub-optimal
Oh, how she must suffer, constrained in such a body
She is destitute, is what they say

My sister has a response which they cannot understand
If quality of life was measured by joy and cheerfulness,
By the size of a smile or the quality of a laugh
My sister has a better life than they will ever know

My sister is unproductive, DALY calculations state
Society will never get back the labor invested in her
She has reduced the economic productivity of our country
She doesn’t contribute to our society, is what they say

My sister is a teacher, I reply with a grin
She provides the opportunity for others to show perfect love
For, is this not our most valuable skill?
My sister brings out the best in our society, is what I say

My sister should be pitied, the righteous announce
She will never win a swimming competition
Never get first place in a spelling bee, or learn ballet
We should be grateful for our abilities, is what they say

My sister knows a secret, they do not
True happiness does not come from possessions, competition and success
But from unhindered love, unconstrained by worldly concerns
My sister knows true happiness, of this, I am sure

This is a picture of my sister.

A photo of our class doing what we do best

Here is a photo of out med school class doing what we do best - sitting in our classroom.

My Future?

My best friend, Stephanie, is also in a graduate degree program. She is getting her PhD at the University of California San Diego. She is finishing up her minor prop, a large project/practice thesis proposal after her first two years of grad school. As you all know, I am going through the horrors of medical school.

Stephanie and I have been regularly discussing our fear of failing and have come up with a plan: In the unlikely circumstance that we both fail out of graduate school at the same time we will both work for a while and save up some money. Then we will buy an old beat up RV and drive across the country and see the all the parks and historical sights. We were trying to figure out how we would fund this adventure with gas prices being so high and all. We decided that we will go to a TV station and suggest it as a new Reality TV show. I think it could really catch on. (Sort of like Survivor, only better).

Reality TV Presents:
"Grad School Dropouts Explore America
Why? Because they can't do anything else."

We could spray paint this across the side of our RV like the picture above. What do you think?

Some Hurricane Katrina Damage Repaired

This is a completely extraneous blog entry, but I thought I would put up a little reminder that New Orleans is still working towards recovery after Hurricane Katrina. Most of you know that I was accepted to the Tulane School of Public Health and Tropical Medicine (MPH program) and that I moved into an apartment in New Orleans late August 2005. You probably also know my marginally thrilling tale of evacuating several days before Hurricane Katrina hit, taking a semester of classes at Texas A and M University and then returning to New Orleans and taking class at Tulane from Jan 2006-Dec 2006. Living in a city recovering from a huge natural disaster was an eye-opening experience. A lot of the inequalities and problems facing our society become painfully apparent. (For example, Charity Hospital, the free hospital for the poor and uninsured closed after Katrina while the private and more elite hospitals were able to recover and reopen).

While I was in New Orleans I enjoyed attending a church that had sustained heavy damage during the Hurricane. Some of the churches I visited seem to be really battered, discouraged, or even depressed because of what the hurricane had done to their city and church. This church, however, seemed to draw strength from the hardships they had gone through. The services took place in the social hall because the sanctuary was mostly under construction/leaking/unsafe because of Katrina damage. (Also at this church one of the funniest misunderstanding that has ever happened to me occurred. Ask me about sometime and I will give you the full story).

Two days ago I received an email from this church saying that after 2 years of labor and construction they had finally succeeded in replacing their broken steeple. I though I would share some of the pictures with you:


The church's roof after Hurricane Katrina (from the Rayne Memorial Church website)

The remains of the steeple after the Hurricane (also from the Rayne website)

The new steeple as of October 30, 2007. (from an email)