Imagery: Speaking of Pictures Envoked...

"I am speechless

because you have fallen beside me

because your eyelashes

are the spines of tiny fragile animals."

Leonard, in his perpetual brilliance, has managed to encapsulate some of my own feelings of awed speechlessness. I am at a loss for words because I feel, at times, that I am learning a new style of language and this language is a new way of thinking and feeling. It is both a new way of living and a reflection of the machinations therein. It is the Poetry of Medicine.

I have several things to blame for my contemplative state of late: a film, a family member and a philosophy.

The first is a perspective-altering meditation on global interconnectedness in cinematic form. It is a film entitled Baraka (an ancient Sufi word meaning "the thread that weaves life together") that my new good friend Erin shared with me. I watched the film in total isolation (even blocking out the surrounding acoustic world with my headphones) but emerged from my reverie with an overwhelming sense of togetherness.

My brother recently read Cormac McCarthy's anti-bildungsroman "The Road," a novel that I read on my flight over here. The discussion that it sparked in us ignited the English major in me that has been lying dormant over the past few months. It was really refreshing for me to engage in that level of analysis because it is something that I cannot yet do in the medical realm. In keeping with my introduction of speechlessness, I am still in the neophyte stages of learning the foundations of the language and mentality of medicine. In the words of Walter Sobchak "[I'm] like a child who wanders into the middle of a movie..." But I am learning fast and to this end my health-science friends and colleagues are being indispensably wonderful. It was just nice to talk lit. and remember that I do, in fact, know some things.

I would like to share a few photos of the amazing friends and colleagues that I've been alluding to over the posts. As I griped last time, my camera is bust so I am borrowing these photos from other places to give you an idea of the setting and characters of the Limerick Stage.

The long and winding Living Bridge tha-a-t leads to my door.

The daily commute

A bunch o' chums:
Naren, Carolyne, John, Jimbo (at the back), James (up front), Mike, Erin, Moi, Kat, Christine

Brain food with JM, Georges, Anna and Naren

One litre cans of Kaiserdom (aka cerebral diesel) with JM

Mike and I "taking a study break"

Erin and I, the founding members of the soon-to-be world famous doctor band: "Reverend Right and the Wronged Ones"

St. Arthur's Day - Celebrating the 250th anniversary of God's gift to beer
(N.B. While Sir Arthur Guinness was never beatified, (or knighted for that matter) I am taking the honour to induct him into the hagiology)

A long and delightfully insane bus trip around the Midwest (of Ireland)

And there you have it, a snappy snapshot into my first month and a half of medical school in Limerick.

I had mentioned in my introduction that one of the things that has had me thinking these days is a philosophy. I have, subtly, touched on it throughout this post, but would like to save it for a future post (in hopes of decreasing my absenteeism from this site). I do just want to mention one other connection to Leonard Cohen's genius. The "spines of tiny fragile animals" is a very apropos image as we struggle through human embryology. The transluscence of the tiny fetal bones really hops to mind with Cohen's words. Well, I must arise and go now to mash 10lbs of potatoes and then titivate myself for our massive 50-person Thanksgiving Dinner tonight! Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving one and all!