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squeezer73
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Name: David
Country: Canada
Metro: London
Birthday: 11/29/1973
Gender: Male
Interests: traveling, danger, adventure, theology, cooking, hockey, soccer, storytelling, camping
Expertise: being cheesy, really bad poetry, drinking whiskey and contemplating the complexities, hilarities, ironies and paradoxes of life...
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other
Message: message me
Member Since:
8/29/2005
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| So I came home (St.Thomas) last night and went to the hospital where I was told that I have(suspenseful music here) Scarlet Fever! (evil sounding dramatic music here)
I know, it all sounds so exotic...but really, it sucks...
From www.kidshealth.org :
Scarlet fever is caused by an infection with group A streptococcus bacteria. The bacteria make a toxin (poison) that can cause the "scarlet" rash from which this illness gets its name.usually begins looking like a bad sunburn with tiny bumps and it may itch. The rash usually appears first on the neck and face, often leaving a clear unaffected area around the mouth. It spreads to the chest and back, then to the rest of the body. In body creases, especially around the underarms and elbows, the rash forms classic red streaks. Areas of rash usually turn white when you press on them. By the sixth day of the infection the rash usually fades, but the affected skin may begin to peel.
Aside from the rash, there are usually other symptoms that help to confirm a diagnosis of scarlet fever, including a reddened sore throat, a fever above 101 degrees Fahrenheit (38.3 degrees Celsius), and swollen glands in the neck. The tonsils and back of the throat may be covered with a whitish coating, or appear red, swollen, and dotted with whitish or yellowish specks of pus. Early in the infection, the tongue may have a whitish or yellowish coating. A child with scarlet fever also may have chills, body aches, nausea, vomiting, and loss of appetite.
Just in time for the holidays! Yay! Actually, I'm doing better. I'm on drugs now which are helping tons and God sent a couple angels to nurse my pathetic body back to some sort of functionality. Danae, you're a Godsend and Mom...oh right, you don't read blogs...
I actually don't mind being sick sometimes...well let me preface that by saying I don't mind being a "little" sick sometimes. The fever, sore throat (which felt like red hot razor blades in my esophagus every time I swallowed), the pus and the chills, etc. bordered on the really sick (the point at which I turn into a big sucky baby).
But being a little sick helps me slow down, turn inward and think about the important things in my life--which is just in time for the holidays. You realize what (or rather, who) is important to you and you thank God for them. So being a little sick ain't all that bad...plus I have an excuse to eat lots of ice cream and watch movies guilt free... | | |
| So I'm back from Uganda and Kenya and was thinking about why I love it so much...and I think it's because life hasn't become 'sanitized' there like it has here. The certainty we have with life here in North America, that things will go as we plan isn't the same there. In Uganda and Kenya there were mild riots about political events happening at the time. One guy was killed and they put the picture of the body on the front page of the newspaper. Death is real, why hide it? It's the one thing we all do really well. In parts of Africa (the parts I've seen) people aren't afraid to acknowledge death-they haven't built an antiseptic barrier between themselves and it. The buildings and landscape aren't kept meticulously clean, cement and paint are dirty sometimes, and stained--giving a clue that life isn't as neat and clean as we'd like. We have nursing homes and hospitals and orphanages so we can have a place to put the people we don't want to look at--we pay others to take care of them so we can have our own 'peaceful life'--the marginalized are marginalized--kept out of sight so we don't have to face our own mortality, our own weakness, our own pain. We learn to insulate ourselves from the reality of life that's all around us--the illusions is so real that we even take pictures of the dirty, snot-nosed HIV kids who laugh and dance around us--we take pictures because their laughter and joy (which we can't help but notice, try as we might) is real, and not the fake happiness we satisfy ourselves with. The snot-nosed HIV kids give us and show us something we want, but don't want to suffer for.
There is a rhythm to life in Africa (the parts I've seen). In the traffic, the dust, the birds, the animals, the music, the bugs, the flowers, the dancing, the people--there is a flow, a beat, a harmony that reminds me I'm alive. I love Africa because I want to feel alive, I want to dance with the rhythm.
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| Jambo rafiki! Well, I'm off to Africa again, in just a few short hours,
Lord willing. Feel free to pray for the trip and for the church
in Africa. I'll be visiting churches, meeting with pastors and
observing/participating in a pastor's training program. be back
on the 22nd...blessings to you!
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| in
almost exactly one week, I will be off to Africa again, Lord
willing...i'm tres excited about seeing Kampala and Nairobi again, its
been so long...ahhhh, Carnivore, will I yet again taste your meaty
delicacies? Could God be so kind to me? For those of you
who don't know, the Carnivore is my favourite restaurant in the whole
world (so far). You go in, pay like 30$ and eat all the meat you
possibly can. They give you a cast iron plate, throw a wee potato
on it and bring out a tray of dipping sauces with a flag at the
top. the waiters then come in waves from the massive barbecue pit
in the centre of the restaurant, bringing skewers thick with meat of
diverse kinds, and slicing it right off the skewer and onto your
plate...and you eat like an animal (I prefer to make grunting noises
and the occasional growl/roar) until you can't eat no more...the best
part is that because its Africa, they have game meat on the
menu--everything from crocodile to giraffe to zebra to ostrich and
everything in between (wildebeest, ostrich and zebra were on the menu
last time I was there)...when everyone at your table is done, you
surrender and lower the flag...and FOR THE RECORD, I informed my dining
companions that THEY would have to lower the flag, as I couldn't get
myself to do it...and so the opportunity comes yet again...I salivate
in anticipation
Oh
yeah, I'm also going to observe and participate in a pastor's training
program through the Timothy Institute (which grew out of Calvin
Seminary) which teaches and trains new or lay pastors. We will
sit in on a teaching conference and interview some of the pastors.
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| Death by lasagna...
So thanks to the brilliant
minds leading this great country of America, I am without lunch for two
days. Here's the story...
I was traveling back to the
States from a devilishly fun Halloween weekend in St.Thomas, my car
loaded down with freshly washed laundry, three day old apples, numerous
bottles of fermented grapes, assorted sundries and a double portion of
my Mother's homemade lasagna. Now my Mom is Dutch, through and
through, and yet despite this, makes a mean lasagna. This
particular batch had apparently been blessed by Italian angels, for as
it melted in my mouth Friday night, I found myself overwhelmed by the
soft,
supple noodles, the succulent red tomatoes, the hot gooey cheese, the
tender juicy
ground beef expertly seasoned with warm garlic and black pepper...My
belly, overcome by the flavours, the textures and aromas, sighed with
great contentment and joy.
And then, when I noticed that the pan
was still half full, the hope of leftovers filled my soul with eager
anticipation for reheated lunches today and tomorrow.
But alas, Uncle Sam and "the powers that be" had to step in and put an end to my culinary lustings...
For you see, dear reader, all
of the above mentioned ingredients are well and good to bring across
the border...all that is except...the 2 ounces of so of ground
beef. Thanks to some insecure American politicians who (no doubt
worried that their outstanding "personal integrity" and true "servant
hearts" wouldn't be enough to retain their "seat of power") thought
they could help out American beef farmers (and thus gain a few more
votes, or steaks as the case may be) by reacting, Chicken
Little-like, to two measly potential mad-cow cases in Canada--my Mom's
lasagna was confiscated, and "destroyed" at the border.
Incredulously, I had to
surrender the offending lasagna in the interests of national
security. However, its good to know that I am not responsible for
any unnecessary deaths that would probably have come about if that
lasagna of death had made it over. Rest assured Americans, no
Canadian lasagna will kill you this time!
On a personal note, I have gone
through the various stages of grieving over the lost lasagna, and am
ready to move on with my life....almost...
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