Lest we forget

Last night's first run of MVN (our annual Queen's medical variety night) went very well! Luckily I had time this morning to recover and I got to sleep in. However, I made it a point to be up in time to remember at 11 AM this morning. The meaning of Remembrance Day was permanently instilled in me at a very young age. I attended Joyce Public School, where each year every student in the school attached a Remembrance Day message to a red or white balloon so that on the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the year we would all gather in the field in a huge circle and let go of all our balloons at the same time. It was amazing and wonderful (while some may argue it is an environmental hazard). The best part was that if your ballon was lucky and avoided getting stuck into trees or popping from the air pressure, it would travel far and wide and somebody would find it and return a message. Each year maybe only one or two letters returned - they were never addressed to me, much to my disappointment, but still I loved the anticipation. Also in grade 3, my teacher Mr. DeBelle (who will remain my favourite teacher of all time) taught a small group of us to sing a song called "When will we ever learn?" The message of the song was, when will we stop resorting to warfare to solve conflict? This was probably the first instance in my life I realized that I had a singing voice that wasn't half bad.

All this reminds me that even as a young child I knew that war was destructive and unnecessary and it boggles my mind and that still, a decade later, war is rampant and deemed neccasry.

Today I was very lucky to listen to a lecture from Dr. Lori Alvord, who trained as a surgeon at Stanford (where my good friend Alex studies medicine - hey dude, I miss you!) and now teaches at Dartmouth. The funny thing about lectures is that some people can get nothing out of it while others can get so much. I was fortunate in that I loved it - she spoke about growing up on a reservation, never even dreaming of becoming a professional but then the ultimate discovery of her capacity for medicine and now, she speaks on how to care for patients and take a holistic approach to healing. Her surgery residency had taught her how to be cynical and controlling but had never taught her how to listen to her patients and truly care for them.

Ii'm very much looking forward to reading her book, The Scalpel and the Silver Bear: the First Navajo Woman Surgeon Combines Western Medicine and Traditional Healing. If you're interested, you can follow the link for book reviews and learn more about this amazing woman. One reviewer eloquently wrote that she's a "voice from another quarter that speaks knowingly of modern medicine's discontent with itself."

Dr. Alvord's story really tweaked the strings in my heart (I know this sounds so sappy, but it really is true) because I myself came from very humble beginnings. I loved going to school but never thought I would take it far and I would not have considered it if it wasn't for my older sister who was the first female in our family to attend university. I also would have never dreamed of this if I didn't have financial assistance. I think a lot of people who know me now would never have guessed this - but that goes to show, just like in clinician-patient encounters, if you never ask and you don't listen, you'd never know.

Anyways, that's my remembrance day story. It's definitely been a day of self-reflection and inspiration.

Oh and today is extra special because it's one of my dearest friend's birthday! Happy birthday Shayna!!