Sad really.

I have known sadness for it’s own sake and wallowed in a feeling which has no fact to cling to. It exists for itself, penetrating, insistent and conceited in it’s dominance. I could blame you, myself, an inanimate object, but this would be a fruitless exercise. Everything is grey, even the things I know are brightly coloured. No information is absorbed because everything is blank and passes me by whilst I cower within myself. Sorry I’m no fun. Sorry I don’t remember you as much as I should. Sorry.

She sings

Find this lady; she sings like an angel.

As I look back.

Why is it that looking back we always seem like we were so much better before? Do you feel that?
I have come to this conclusion on multiple occasions and each time I can't imagine what has gone wrong. Looking back on my own words they seem laden which such heavy thought that I can't imagine from where they escaped. Perhaps our products are greater than the processes we have to sense our way through and only looking back they can seem remarkable.
Today someone I admire greatly said to me, "to be a good scientist you must be me standing here, seeing you". Sometimes it feels like the things that are real that we haven't realised are so close that I almost realise, but then it's gone and I'm standing looking back at myself as I was, not as I am now, reading my own words in disbelief.

There's been a lot of rain recently. Then again, there's been a lot of rainbows too.

In other news...







It definitely runs in the family. This is my little brother, yes he is very cool, and yes he doesn't know how good he has got it. He doesn't even know he doesn't know. Actually, come to think of it he doesn't know he doesn't know he doesn't know.


I love it when these things just happen...


And as I'm on a role, here's a little taster of Israel ...

All in all.

All in all it was a big day today. Not one of those days you feel should be a big day, like birthdays and weddings (so I’m told). Just woke up and felt like I wanted to stay in bed, and didn’t. I presented a paper at a Journal club and my consultant, Mr Soltan, a inspiring man indeed, told me ‘I think you are going to be a good academic doctor’. It meant a lot, I don’t really know why, but it did. May it’s one of the things I want to be. I’d like to a be a good academic doctor. I’d like to be able to blow glass. I spoke to a lady who had had breast cancer, she was warm and I felt like we held something between us, not a thing which was of any particular use but it was there, and it felt good to be half of what was keeping it there. I tagged along with one of the registrars on call and watched whilst she put her entire arm inside a woman to remove what was left of the placenta after she had had a miscarriage. As blood turned red to black as it hit the blue drapes I felt a little weak. I felt the guilt of the joy I get from doing this. I felt like this might all be for nothing. As I was driving I listened to Ed Harcourt - til tomorrow then, it was nice. I don’t really understand things so much, sometimes you realise it more than others.

Preservative??

Who ever ever ever thought of putting vinegar inside a vagina in the hope of identifying cervical cancer? Why? Just Why?

Love: right conclusion, wrong disease

I was right after all (and not just filling a poster full of pseudo-insightful crap to put in the museum). The unpredictability of symptoms are (infact) as debilitating as the symptoms themselves.

And some more pictures from Ghana ...


An ant-house, as big as a person house (interrobang)






Charity is just like normal life.


Just because I think it needs to be said, has anyone heard David Bowies The Laughing Gnome ??

The scariest thing about Blackpool...

This, you put inside a woman.

This, you don't.

Someone once said...

i'd like to hear some of those other thoughts, all the same. why should you get to decide, all on your own, what's worth hearing?

Who missed the plane?

Scouts can lose anything.


Funny you should mention the flight. On the way to catch the plane the whole team and I (only 7 of us this time) we nice and early. We had all our extra bags of books and balls and needles (that took some explaining) checked in and went to look at the gate on the big flashing screen which makes everyone squint. We saw that there was no gate so we thought 'yes, its wandering time'. We all bumped back into each other approximately five minutes later and squinted back at the board which now said 'gate closed'. After a good minute of 'Shi..sugar', 'wheres my bag', 'where is moni...there she is' most of us started looking stupid running through Heathrow airport. The only one at the back moseying her way slowly was Naomi, the only Ghanaian at that point. We arrived five minutes later a little pink and a little more sweaty to find everyone sitting all leisurely-like at the gate. We bundled everything to the man at the gate and. 'Have you finished boarding? Is it too late for us too...'. 'Ah no' the decidedly Northern man said. 'We just do that because we were sick of the planes always waiting for someone on these flights'. Naomi got there a few moments later smiling to herself. I swear Ghana International is the only airline that has to trick it's customers into getting there on time.
Incidently, we had to wait for a passenger who was late.
It did get me wondering about all the people that are 'supposed' to be in all the places we find ourselves. Most of the time I assume that everyone who is infront of me is supposed to be there and no-one is missing. Sometimes, on the other hand, people are decidedly missing. This is one of those times.
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