tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86465502564800239622024-03-13T06:08:22.281+00:00It's ComplicatedRefusing to be just another statisticLexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-78457167151577076962014-02-21T23:48:00.003+00:002014-02-21T23:48:32.567+00:00Soon..I will update this soon. I will. I promise. And it's not because I feel like I have to, but because I want to. Lots has happened, not all of it pleasant, and I want to write about it. But I'm at that point of the academic year when exams are looming and if I have a bad day I want to ride it out and then forget about it, because to dwell would be detrimental to my revision. Plus it's never a good idea to blog something written in the heat of the moment.<br />
<br />
One thing though, before I go. I was speaking to someone at this year's #BOMTTU who said that my blog was really useful for understanding how patient's feel. I was so touched by that. Thank you xLexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-79247846913474695682013-10-05T22:23:00.001+01:002013-10-05T22:25:41.622+01:00What's Happening...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, 4th year. I don't want to jinx it but I've got a feeling that it's going to be a good one. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Currently in my second week of my Psych and Neuro placement, although because of introductory lectures and me being ill with the flu and conjunctivitis I've done one day of Psych and absolutely no Neuro. Really hoping that Psych picks up next week - I've been looking forward to it but haven't really enjoyed it yet. Too many...memories, if that's the right word. Still, the doctors are amazing, and I've seen the benefit of a good conversation with someone who actually cares. I've also seen first hand the damaging effect that ATOS can have on vulnerable patients, so there's that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<img height="212" src="http://static3.demotix.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/a_scale_large/1400-3/photos/1346452546-dpac-and-uk-uncut-team-target-paralympics-sponsor-atos_1416793.jpg" width="320" /><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just come off a Surgery placement where, ironically, I did very little surgery. Had some great opportunities (like helping to open up) but I never want to do another DRE for as long as I live. We did one week of ENT. One week. We've never done ENT before, not even in lectures. It was barely touched on in anatomy. We are now expected to know all the ENT we would need should we have an F1 job in the speciality. Scary. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What's even scarier is that this time next year I'll be applying for F1 posts. 21 months before I (hopefully) graduate. Scary doesn't even begin to cover it. I look at my friend in the year above who I've know since we were 11 and in Year 7 together and she seems to know everything; she's so competent as a doctor. I've got 12 months to get to that point and, frankly, I don't see it happening. But life's a learning curve, isn't it? It'll be fine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Elective planning is going well - as long as nothing falls through I should be joining a Medical Humanities research group at Stanford University. I really need some funding though - America is bloody expensive bro! My friend was moaning that she had to pay almost £500 for her elective accommodation. I'll be paying double that at least. But there are lots of funding opportunites out there; just need to apply!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<img height="157" src="http://bioethics.stanford.edu/arts/images/stanford_ahm_logo.jpg" width="320" /><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, I'm off. This was a very boring post. Hope you're all well. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie x</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(All image rights to Google Images. I thank you). </span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-75805006566868312412013-10-04T22:38:00.000+01:002013-10-04T22:38:26.994+01:00Keep Trudging On...<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wrote a poem. It is not good, but because I've neglected blogger of late I thought I'd share. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just keep trudging on<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s been three years<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since the day I asked you to label me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Three years since the relief that I wasn’t imagining what I
was feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was real<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And tangible<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And medical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Three years since I sat on the edge of the bed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With a box of z-drugs <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(That I now know wouldn’t have made a difference)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But considered making that difference<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To my place in the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Three years of the worst kind of rollercoaster<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I don’t even like rollercoasters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of swings and roundabouts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trampoline living<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fighting<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And pushing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And crying<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And wailing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of “just keep going<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">because there’s nothing else we can do”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve spend nights trying to hide <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">from the images tattooed on the inside of my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But things have got better:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can smile for days at a time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Be normal,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Be happy,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love that everything is good<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Whilst fearing that it will come back)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it does always does come back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A constant tug of war for my emotional integrity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don’t want to fight anymore <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I don’t want to let it win.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That alone is exhausting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Still,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Could be worse, eh?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-12670725087496375912013-07-16T15:07:00.001+01:002013-07-16T15:07:49.063+01:004th year update...In Birmingham your 4th year starts mid June. I don't know why. But it does mean that I'm part way through my 4th week of the academic year. And so far I have come to a few conclusions:<br />
<br />
1. Anaesthetics is fun but way to science-y.<br />
2. Anaesthetists are some of the nicest doctors I've ever met.<br />
3. I will not be pursuing a career in orthopaedics.<br />
4. Increasing my dosage of agomelatin is more hassle than it's worth.<br />
5. Despicable Me 2 is awesome.<br />
6. I don't feel like a student anymore.<br />
7. Electives are far too complicated to organise.<br />
<br />
More soon, hopefully.<br />
<br />
Toodles<br />
Lexie.Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-90936483049253891832013-05-18T19:44:00.000+01:002013-05-18T19:44:12.491+01:00A Shakespearean journey of introspection...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>What magic is this? A
blog post from Lexie Bellafonte? Be still my beating heart! We had perchance
thought you had died and gone to heaven, so quiet has your correspondence been
of late. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
I shan’t apologise for the Shakespeare. It’s been a very Shakespearean week. I
started a post yesterday entitled ‘Simply Ophelia’ about what happened on
Monday, but then today happened, so now you have this instead. I pray you, lend
me your ears…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Alright, I’ll stop now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shakespeare. One of the great loves of my life. Seriously,
that dude could write. His plays are as relevant today as they were in the
1600s. And this week has been full of him. Somehow, this week, I’ve managed to
go on a journey of the self through Shakespeare. Much like Hamlet, only
cheerier and this ending has no death. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Ophelia<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Monday, as part of my Drama and Medicine student project,
I played the part of Ophelia. The task was to, as a group, chose a play with a
healthcare theme and perform for the class a 15 minute scene/combination of
scenes. For some strange reason my group decided to do ‘Hamlet’. Cause
modern-day English was too easy for us :p We presented Hamlet’s To Be Or Not To
Be soliloquy and his nunnery conversation with Ophelia followed by Ophelia’s mad scenes. And I played Ophelia in her mad scenes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was exhilarating. Liberating. I’ve always wanted to play
Ophelia and that will probably be the first and last time I’ll ever do so.
There’s something very freeing about forgetting what people think and acting
crazy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And at the time, I indentified with her. I was Ophelia. Not
because I was playing her and I was trying to get into the role (I’m not that
good an actor) but because I felt crazy. I’d had a rubbish weekend, my mental
health was all a-kilter and I went into that class ready to cry. And when I
played her I channelled all of that crazy – the anger, the grief, the delusion
and despair I was feeling – into her character. It was by no means brilliant.
Most of the actual acting I borrowed from Ophelias I’ve seen on stage and
screen. But it was so easy to act crazy because that’s how I felt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the end of each performance we had a discussion and one
person asked me how I prepared for the role, what I drew on. I wasn’t about to
tell him the truth but I said (and I do believe this) that we all have a bit of
crazy in us and I drew on that. We laughed at that because it was funny. And
after, as liberating and wonderful as it felt in the moment, I went back to
feeling ignored and alone. A bit like Ophelia, I suppose. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Hamlet<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that class I didn’t fancy going home. So I went to Stratford
where, coincidentally, they were performing ‘Hamlet’ that night. I went and saw
it. It was a wonderful performance. Jonathon Slinger as Hamlet…wow. Pippa Nixon
as Ophelia was even better. Afterwards I had that warm glow I get from watching
a performance. But, because I am me and was already feeling pretty emotionally
unstable, I identified with Hamlet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve all sympathised with Hamlet at some point in our
lives. Sure we may not ponder suicide like he does but we’ve all had a bit of
an existential crisis. And I felt like that. Off kilter with the world around
me, questioning life and its meaning, even if life had a meaning. Alone amongst
friends and family. Existential. I’ve never heard understood his soliloquies as
well as I did on Monday night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Prufrock</b> (from
<a href="http://people.virginia.edu/~sfr/enam312/prufrock.html" target="_blank">Eliot’s poem</a>)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went to Stratford again today to see ‘As You Like It’. I
was so, so excited. It’s one of my favourite plays and Horatio and Ophelia from
Hamlet were Rosalind and Orlando. I’d been waiting for today for ages. And it
didn’t disappoint. I’m going to go see it again. It was magical. Truly,
wonderfully, properly magnificent. Perfect. I mean, it wasn’t perfect. There were
some bits (like with even the best of books) which were left wanting. But I
came out feeling that theatre feeling but ten, no, a hundred times more. Calm.
Complete. Happy. Content. Whole. Perfect. I skipped along the pavement. I haven’t
skipped since primary school. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the car on the way home I found myself reciting part of
Eliot’s poem:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I am not Prince
Hamlet, nor was meant to be; <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Am an attendant lord,
one that will do <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>To swell a progress,
start a scene or two <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Advise the prince; no
doubt, an easy tool, <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Deferential, glad to
be of use, <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Politic, cautious, and
meticulous; <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Full of high sentence,
but a bit obtuse; <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>At times, indeed,
almost ridiculous— <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Almost, at times, the
Fool<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This poem is one of my favourites. It’s the poem I go to
when I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. It’s a bit long but sounds wonderful read
out loud, which I do because somehow it calms me. I don’t know why I starting
saying it in the car. Probably the Hamlet reference. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve identified with Prufrock before, and for those ten
minutes in the car I did again. I’m a little buttoned up like his frock coat, I
um and ah and overthink thinks drastically. I’m known to be a little
pessimistic. This section sums up one feeling especially – that feeling that
you’re not the main person in your life. I’ve been getting that a lot recently.
Not important enough to be Hamlet. Not the protagonist in your story. Just an
attendant lord. I’ve always thought he refers to Polonius in the poem, who dies
in the play. Hamlet kills him, actually. Ironically. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I’ve been writing recently. I’ve got this idea and I’m
hoping to run with it. The point is, the main character gets told, repeatedly,
that she is the hero in her own story. You are the protagonist in your life’s
book. I have a tendency to not follow my own advice. And because I’d been
identifying with so many Shakespearean characters recently I asked myself,
whilst driving: if you could be any character in any Shakespearean play, who
would you be?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Any character? That’s quite an ask. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hamlet is a fantastic figure in the history of literature.
It can be argued that he is the first character to show introspection. And I’ve
identified with him. But would I be him? No. Ignoring the fact that he dies at
the end, he spends the whole plays running circles in his own head, asking and
reasking the same questions. I do that. But do I want to do that? No. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ophelia is beautiful but she goes crazy. And dies. Her grief
and despair overwhelm her. No.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love Horatio. I’d forgotten how much until I saw Monday’s
performance. He’s learned and cultured and I believe he loves Hamlet with every
fibre of his being. I mean, when Hamelt goes to England he doesn’t leave (you
have to remember that he came to Elsinore to see his friend). Instead he stays
and looks after Ophelia because (I think) he knows how much she means to
Hamlet. I’d love to see Horatio played by a female actor. I’d love to be
Horatio, but only in the play. Because he lets Hamlet drive his every move. At
the end he’s ready to die for his prince in a very Romeo and Juliet way…No. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Romeo and Juliet both need to get a grip. Yes it’s an epic
love story, and yes it is lovely, and yes I have been in many a situation where
I let one little emotion well up and take me over but GROW UP! You’re
teenagers. Try and live a little. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
King Lear is horrid. His children are bitches. Macbeth is
power hungry, his wife even more so. Othello…needs to know his own mind more.
Puck would be cool. I was Puck at school. But no. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ultimately the choice was between Viola and Rosalind. I’m
sure there’s more (Beatrice for example) but in the car I was debating Viola
and Rosalind. Both are brave and courageous, both love their friends and family
dearly and would do anything for them, both love other people and would do
anything for them. Both are wonderful examples of strong, independent women. But
truthfully, I’ve always thought Orsino was a bit fickle. I hate how he says
Viola can be his mistress at the end. I know mistress means wife but, why doesn’t
he say wife? Mistress still has that connotation. I think he loved Cesario, not
Viola, but social conventions meant he was pleased when Cesario turned out to
be a woman. Viola deserves more than that. However Orlando loves Rosalind.
Irrevocable, unconditional love. And that is special. And Rosalind is special.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>It’s highly likely
that I’m just identifying with whichever character is in the main role when I’m
contemplating who I identify with. Or something. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, if I could be any character in any play, I would be
Rosalind. Who is not an attendant lord. She is the master of her own destiny,
the hero in her own story, the protagonist of her book. Which I should be. Live
is short. It is what you make it. And I would rather be Rosalind than Prufrock
or Polonius. Rather be Rosalind than Hamlet. And, somehow, in the space of 6
days I went from being Ophelia to being Rosalind. I can guarantee you that by
the end of next week I’ll feel like Hamlet or Ophelia again. But tonight, now,
I am Rosalind. I am the protagonist of my own story. And it feels really,
really good. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Toodles<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lexie. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
PS I’m looking for a new calm-me-down poem, one with a
character more Rosalind than Prufrock. Any suggestions? <o:p></o:p></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-74046578030574187542013-04-12T22:56:00.000+01:002013-04-12T22:56:03.907+01:00In the inbetween...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Create a world. Get lost in it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I half-dreamt a world where nothing was quite real. No,
I lucid dreamed. The best lucid dream I’ve done in a long time. And in this
dream, where I couldn't think of a back-story I made it that the parts unknown
to me were unknown to the dreamees as well. I manipulated a world which
resulted in a character who thinks she knows what’s happening – there is a
situation which she’s in and she’s dealing with it – but when she stops and
actually thinks about it, she realises that there are gaps where there should
be memories. She knows why she is here but not how she got there. There is a
view from the window which isn't quite real. And now no one can quite remember
how she got there either. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to go back there. I want to stay there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Afterwards I came out of the dream state, ie I woke up and opened my eyes, and was confronted by this world again. Nothing felt real. But
then, nothing has felt real for a good few days. Time has been jumping so what
feels like a few minutes is actually an hour when you look at the clock. I keep
expecting to wake up. I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating. Real life has begun to
feel like a dream. I’m not sure if this
can be classed as a funny turn, or maybe I’m just stressed but I’ve had bad
stress before and it’s never been like this. Or maybe it did but I *just* can’t
remember. The past has begun to feel like a dream, where you turn towards a
memory and it’s gone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I’ve never felt like this before. Like I'm in the
inbetween. Occasionally, yes. When you come out of a movie or a play or a book
and it lingers with you. That’s what it feels like, except it’s my life which is
lingering. I can hear it discussing the play before it heads back to the car to
drive home. But there is no story to go back to and so I'm left in the
inbetween.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It simultaneously terrifies me and excites me. I want to
stay there. Here. I want this to be a dream because then today and yesterday
will slip to the edges of my mind when I wake up tomorrow. Memories I’ve
gathered over the past few weeks will slowly disappear, hide when I try to
confront them and leave me with déjà vu five, ten, fifty years from now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And that’s why it’s terrifying It’s terrifying because
this isn’t a dream. This is real life. But more and more it feels like
everything is slipping away and I’m left floating in the inbetween </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyways. As this is real life I'm off to bed. Need to be up at 6 so I can spend the day in the medschool revising for Monday's exam. The real world, as dreamlike as it feels, needs to be lived otherwise I'm going to fail out of medical school. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie</span></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-48381193276304898312013-04-10T03:28:00.001+01:002013-04-10T03:28:28.189+01:00All-nighter interlude in which I really need coffee and should stop typing and go to sleep like a smart person...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow my blog's gotten pretty depressing recently, what with all the posts about depression. Hmm...I did think about starting a separate blog just for depression stuff but I never got round to setting it up. Not sure I will either. Unfortunately it's a part of me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What is with Blogger not recognising blog as a correctly spelt word?? Or Blogger for that matter. Shouldn't it be inherent in it's programming or something??</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway. Hello :D Yes it's 3 in the morning. I'm doing an all-nighter. Or trying to. Exam on Friday. OSCE. Given that I've been so ill this year I've missed an awful lot and we've had barely any study leave so basically it's been like fitting a whole year's work into 2 weeks which was actually 1 week because I've been ill again. Did that make sense? I'm horrifically sleep deprived, possibly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello :) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've said that already, haven't I?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's a strain in Demi Lovato's new song "Heart Attack" which sounds exactly like Greenday's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams". Just thought I'd put that out there. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why am I writing this?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, off to get some cofffeee. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love you all. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie :D </span><br />
<br />Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-54825361006101842372013-03-19T23:22:00.001+00:002013-03-20T13:41:01.928+00:00Depression: It Is What It Is...I've been wanting to write this for a while. Sometimes I get the feeling that people don't understand what it is to be depressed. I can empathise. It's a strange disease, one which is often misrepresented, one which people don't like to talk about and one which has so many myths associated with it.<br />
<br />
I want to give my take on it.<br />
<br />
<br />
When it's bad, it's bad. But throughout it all I am forever grateful for my life. Depression doesn't mean that I walk around in a permanent funk. I'm not an emo. I don't think the world is going to end, or that everything is bad and going to turn out wrong. I often think that my life at <i>that </i>moment is bad. At that particular moment, in those hours when all I can do is beg for it to end. When it's really bad I find it hard to believe that it will better, even though I know it will. But I'm never not grateful. I have had a wonderful life. I've had so many opportunities and I am blessed. I've never doubted that. I'll never doubt that. In a way knowing that makes it harder, because I feel guilty for feeling the way I do given the life that I've had.<br />
<br />
But it is what it is.<br />
<br />
Depression isn't just something you can shake yourself out of. I wish it was. I hate the person that I've become, and the way which I collapse and fall. I want nothing more than to have a switch, or a button, or something, anything that I could do to turn it all off. To push away the black and be "normal" again, whatever normal is. But I can't. That's not what it's like. And as hard as it is to admit, I wouldn't be me without all the darkness, and everything associated with the depression which I've been through.<br />
<br />
Depression doesn't mean that I'm sad. Again, I'm not an emo. Yeah, I'm sad, but I'm not. I know that doesn't make sense, and I haven't managed to find a way to express it properly. It's like...it's like everything has been tainted black, like I'm seeing the world through an old style camera. Like there's a man holding a net over my head through which I can see the sun, and appreciate the sun, but the light of the sun won't pass the mesh of the net. It just...hangs there. And without the sun all the bad things inside which have taken root grow, and out of it comes this horrific beast which spills a darkness toxin, a dark-toxin into my blood...it sounds stupid. That metaphor sounds stupid. There aren't words to properly express what it is I'm trying to say. A better writer could. Better writers have. But for me...depression is a darkness which stops me from feeling.<br />
<br />
It is what it is.<br />
<br />
There isn't a reason I feel what I do. Yeah, there have been events in my past which may or may not have precipitated what I feel now. And yeah, sometimes things can happen in my day to day life which may push me into that direction and trigger a response. But subconsciously I know that all those things are trivial, that they shouldn't make me feel that way, that they don't deserve this response. It isn't even subconscious. It's a conscious thought. But inside, deep inside, something happens and chemicals start flowing and before long I'm drowning. And when that happens it's so, so hard to pull myself out. I can be perfectly at peace with a triggering event, I can have dealt (countless times) with the things in my past but I can't stop the dark. When it comes it's...the Greek army marching on Troy. The Romans attacking the Celts. Cancer once it's got into the bloodstream. Despite your defences it still comes.<br />
<br />
It is what it is.<br />
<br />
Somebody once tweeted and said, "Have you ever been happy?" Yes. Of course. You should see me on a normal day. I'm lovely :p I'm a strong, independent young lady who is great in a crisis and deals well with other people's problems (and even her own problems, believe it or not) and knows how to work through things so they become sorted out. I laugh. Loudly and often. I grin like a little child. My life makes me smile. I'm happy. And yet.<br />
<br />
And yet.<br />
<br />
It is what it is.<br />
<br />
I know this may not make sense. It doesn't even make sense to me. But when people say "just be happy" or "just be grateful" or "be more positive" - all of which have been said to me - they don't mean anything because it isn't like that. It has never been like that.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry.<br />
<br />
And so a quote, from JK Rowling. I came across this recently and it goes a long way to explaining what it is I've been trying to convey:<br />
<br />
<br />
<h1 class="quoteText" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px;">
<i>“Depression is the most unpleasant thing I have ever experienced. . . . It is that absence of being able to envisage that you will ever be cheerful again. The absence of hope. That very deadened feeling, which is so very different from feeling sad. Sad hurts but it's a healthy feeling. It is a necessary thing to feel. Depression is very different.”</i></h1>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Toodles, </div>
<div>
Lexie </div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-43812890158266507222013-03-16T22:36:00.005+00:002013-03-16T22:37:23.037+00:00I don't know...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There’s something I want to say but I don’t know what it is.
I don’t know if I’m sad now, or happy. Maybe I’m stuck in the grey inbetween. I
don’t know if the pain in my back and kidneys is real or if I’m tired because
of something or nothing. I don’t know if I can push myself enough to make it
through the next few weeks, or even if I do push myself if it will be enough. I
don’t know if this tremor is real. I’m not even 100% certain that this is real.
I don’t know if I can do this any more, or if I want to do this any more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don’t know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don’t know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That is the refrain to which my life currently beats. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie </span></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-69343300607279454122013-03-06T17:19:00.002+00:002013-03-06T17:19:56.829+00:00"You're not crazy Lexie, you're a Grey"...When <i>Grey's Anatomy</i> came out in 2005 there were billboards advertising it everywhere. I was in Year 10 at this point and loved everything medical. It was already my dream to go to medical school and so my mum recommended I watch it. She later withdrew this statement when she realised that it was mainly about sex and relationships and less about the actual medicine but I told her I was learning stuff from it and she relented, albeit begrudgingly. I still watch it. It's one of my favourite shows.<br />
<br />
Meredith used to say this thing. She used to say, "I'm all dark and twisty inside."<br />
<br />
My Dad used to say that the only reason I acted the way that I did, ie sad for no reason for weeks on end, was because I wanted to be more like Meredith.<br />
<br />
I don't really want to go into all that now, the Dad-me relationship, the possibility of having depression for years but everyone said it was either teenage angst or I "just wanted to be more like Meredith". But it's all there. To summarise: I loved the show, and I thought Meredith and everyone else was great but I did not "act the way I did" because I wanted to be like her. A few years into me feeling like that I began to say "I'm dark and twisty" but it was as a joke, in a reference to Meredith Grey and not because that's what I was aiming for all along.<br />
<br />
There's one character, Lexie, who is Meredith's sister. I'm not entirely certain if my love of the name or love of the character came first. When she (spoiler alert!) died at the end of last season I was heartbroken because I felt connected to her, the same way I cried when Dumbledore died. You form bonds with people you don't know, either fictional or real but just not real to you, and you feel their pain. There's a blog post in that as well that I thought I'd already posted but I can't seem to find it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I was listening to music from my "Like" playlist on YouTube and this scene came on:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/3kXubjbIU-M?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
When Meredith said, "You're not crazy Lexie, you're a Grey" I almost cried. It felt like she was speaking to me. Recently I have felt crazy. I have wondered if I need more help, if this is more than depression, if there is something else, something maybe more sinister going on. And her saying that brought back what my Dad used to say.<br />
<br />
Yes, I am dark and twisty. But maybe that's not because I'm crazy, but because I'm me. Or not. Maybe I'm a Grey. Who knows? It is the nature of the future that we don't know what's around the corner but...well, that's life.<br />
<br />
And that's it. I wanted to share that with you. That is all.<br />
<br />
Toodles,<br />
LexieLexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-55167306394527936482013-03-01T17:50:00.002+00:002013-03-01T17:50:51.439+00:00Deal...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, what's new in Bellafonte land? Much of the same really. Work is busy, long and hard. Certainly not made easier by the fact I'm missing loads because my moods are all over the place, for various reasons. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What reasons, Lexie?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coming off old meds, starting older meds, then starting new meds in conjunction with the old meds. And iron tablets, which hate me. And...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">*Sighs* It's weird. Things happen and I deal. That's the Lexie-way. The Sarah-way. I've always dealt with the things that life throws at me because, hey, it's life, and it's shit and it ain't going to get easier. And that's still happening. I deal. But even if I'm consciously all 'OK, that happened, let's get on', subconsciously, biochemically, I'm a freaking mess. I'm anxious and sad and running out of teaching because I can't take it any more. Anyways, running out of teaching did lead to a very nice text from a boy in my group, and then that same boy being very nice to me when I finally decided to show my face in the hospital again, so it wasn't all doom and gloom, although it was every shade of embarrassing there is. What colour is embarrassing? Like a sick-green probably, or a dark brown. I added layers of embarrassed when I half skidded out the door because my shoes lost their grip. It was quite comical, and I'm currently all for humour as a coping mechanism. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I digress. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, fine. But be warned, this is a rant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It upsets me that people now only know me as me, and not old-me. Take the boy I just mentioned. I had a bit of a crush on him in pre-clinical years. We both intercalated. When I started this term I wasn't looking forward to him being in my group because, crush aside, he comes across as a bit of a prick. But he isn't. He's just hiding behind a veil of prickness. Anyway, he didn't know me before, but he knows me now. And now-me is screwed up BIG TIME. And old me was a lot like him - driven, smart. And he doesn't know smart-me. He knows misses-50%-of-teaching-me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But even though old-me was all those things new-me is so much more, because of what happened. I'm getting deja vu...I apologise if I've talked about this before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nevermind. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I suppose what all this is getting at is...I need to find a way to a) get back to old me, with all the aspects of new-me which aren't crazy but without being normal because normal is over-rated and b) find a way to make my subconscious play ball. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Also, I probably have hypothyroidism, so my body is falling to pieces in the same way that my mind is. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As you can tell, it's been a rough few weeks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">*takes a deep breath*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But, c'est la vie, right? And life isn't a bed of roses. And all that smiles isn't happy, or something. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just need to deal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You never know, maybe my next post won't be full of angst :p </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie x</span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-50436233573195007862013-01-14T14:38:00.002+00:002013-01-14T14:38:37.369+00:00Psychiatrist-ing...Finally had my psych referral appointment today. I had had one with the same team two years ago where they told me I wasn't serious enough to be under their care. I was petrified that that would happen again. It didn't, but I did have to go into detail about my story, which I was expecting. Normally doing this makes me quite emotional. Today was no exception. I didn't help that the consultant I saw is one who I've spoken to before in a medical-student-teacher capacity, and it was snowing so I was wet, and the appointment was part way through my first day at a new placement at the same hospital the appointment was in. Plus I think the doctor was Muslim and I had to explain some of the religious issues I've been having recently. He's got those eyes though, the ones where you can't tell if he's judging or not. Good eyes for a doctor to have. He <i>was</i> nice though.<br />
<br />
The treatment plan isn't exactly what I wanted but at least I wasn't turned away this time, so that's something. To be honest, I'll try anything at the moment. I just don't want to feel like this any more. I can't remember what it's like to feel normal. What is normal? That's a whole other post.<br />
<br />
Toodles,<br />
LexieLexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-70367552351395305052013-01-12T00:18:00.000+00:002013-01-12T00:18:15.834+00:00Completeness through art...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went to the theatre today, spontaneously. I left my flat around 2ish with a heavy heart to go to the Post Office. I'm been feeling low recently and I didn't want to leave my room but when I did I didn't want to go back. I wanted an adventure. I wanted to drive until I ran out of road. Not for the first time I contemplated just disappearing, taking the ferry and driving on through Europe. I settled for spontaneity instead. I rang to RSC, confirmed they had tickets for tonight and drove down to Stratford Upon Avon where I saw <i>Boris Gudonov. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel wonderful now, better than I have all week. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love the
theatre. It makes me feel…happy isn’t the right word, although I do feel happy
after. Very happy. Theatre makes me feel satisfied, whole. Complete. It’s similar to when I come out of a
good film at the cinema but with the theatre the feeling is more mellow, more
rounded. Like a matured wine, I suppose. It’s different again with books. With
books I feel higher. The same emotions as with theatre or film but I feel like I’m airborne, singing soprano. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Books
lift me, theatre holds me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All three make me want to write. To create worlds I can get
lost in, worlds I can help others escape into by escaping into them myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They make me feel like I belong. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Complete. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whole. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's nothing else in my life that makes me feel like that. I think that's why I'm so reluctant to give up that part of myself, why I'm so eager to make them my whole life. </span></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-12615745624836059302013-01-07T03:26:00.001+00:002013-01-07T03:27:11.454+00:00Sleep Anxiety... It's 3:20 in the morning and I'm awake and writing this. I wish this was insomnia but it isn't. I even wish it was a childish tantrum, a five-more-minutes-please-mum kind of situation, like when you were younger and there was something on the telly that you wanted to watch but it was way past your bedtime.<br />
<br />
I don't want to sleep because then it will be tomorrow, and I don't want it to be tomorrow. Term starts tomorrow and I've spend today in a state of perpetual, inexplicable dread. I don't want to go back. I don't want to see people. I just want to stay here, in my room, in bed. This isn't laziness. This is fear.<br />
<br />
This is all ridiculous and yet...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I wish it would stop. All of this. Everything.Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-60813155236248180782012-11-11T23:35:00.002+00:002012-11-11T23:35:33.846+00:00Keeping secrets from myself...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's something...actually, there are two things which I'm keeping from Twitter and from you. And for a blog that was meant to be an outlet for everything I couldn't say out loud, that's pretty bad, isn't it? Nobody knows. I tell Twitter everything. It's literally like I tweet my thoughts. And I tell my closest friends (almost) everything, because they are more than sisters to me. And I tell my mum (almost almost) everything because I hate lying to her. And I haven't told anyone this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe I need to stop hiding away parts of myself and just be open. Not to gain sympathy. Not to make a scene. But because by admitting things to other people I am fully admitting those things to myself, and that should help me to work through it. When it stays in my head it's just another thought. Another thread of a memory that I can't follow through to the end. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know what to do anymore. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know. </span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-6703650455232445482012-11-11T22:00:00.003+00:002012-11-11T22:01:29.942+00:00Everyone feels like you...<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">'Try this. Take a minute, take a day, take a week and be scared. Then stop. And don't let it in anymore' -- Michael Aranda</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/IPsVQHu5lA4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Watch this. Pretend that he isn't talking to someone called Charlie, but he's talking to you. And maybe watch Charlie's video as well. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The point I'm trying to make is...everyone feels scared. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie </span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-37099787526260098892012-10-28T21:58:00.000+00:002012-10-28T21:58:32.702+00:00It scares me so much...<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">#nowplaying Breathe 2am ~ Anna Nalick</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm laying myself bare here. Because I think about this a lot. And I was hoping that writing it down might help.That's what this blog was meant for, wasn't it? I didn't need to press "Publish" but I have. Don't ask me why. Here is me...</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s hard being a Muslim and being me. Which is
silly, because I am a Muslim and I am me. But even though they’re the same
thing they feel so, so separate. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I…I’m meant to have an arranged marriage. My
mum wants me to have an arranged marriage. Not a ‘here’s some guy, marry him or
else’ marriage. More of an ‘I’ve heard of this really nice young man, let’s go
meet him and if you like him you can marry him’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But that scares me. It scares me so much. I know I’ll get to
know him but the thought of giving myself over wholly and completely over to
someone who, let’s face it, I’ll not properly know, frightens me. Giving myself
over and committing myself to a lifetime with this person. Giving my…my very essence
to someone I don’t even know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And some of them work. Some arranged marriages are great. And
some of them, like my parents, are more than train wrecks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don’t even want to get married because I’m scared it’ll
end. Part of me believes in happily ever after but part of me believes the only
reality is that it never lasts, because love never lasts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I told my mum that I would never have an arranged
marriage. I told her that I would find my own man, and she’s ok with that, as
long as he converts to Islam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No one is going to convert to Islam for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A boy I know actually said that no man would do that. Not the
“for me” bit but the “convert” bit. The rest was implied even if he didn’t mean
it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No one has ever even shown an interest in me. No one has
ever even asked me out on a date. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And if they did they wouldn’t want all my crazy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just want someone to make me feel safe. To love me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The future shouldn’t be scary. It shouldn’t hurt. How can
something that hasn’t happened cause pain? But it does. It hurts so much. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-37582829835655213062012-09-24T19:09:00.001+01:002012-09-24T19:10:05.117+01:00Just be grateful...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Just be grateful"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a ridiculous thing to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course I’m grateful. I’m grateful for everything, even
the depression because it’s made me a much bigger, better person than I was
before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm grateful for having a wonderful education, for having family who love me, for never having to worry about where I'm going to get the next mouthful of food from, for having a roof over my head and clothes on my back. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But you can’t be grateful if you feel like that. Look at the
people in Syria who are dying because of a stupid civil war, or the children in
Ethiopia who can’t even get clean water, or the countless other people who don’t
have what you have and for whom every day is a struggle."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am grateful. I’m grateful for so much. And yet I’m still
hurting. I’m hurting despite the grateful-ness. I can’t make it stop. I can’t
control it. And you saying “just be grateful’ is making it worse because now I
feel bad for feeling the way I feel, I feel bad for feeling bad, but I can’t
control it, I can’t stop it, I can’t help it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And please don't ask "why?" either. Because I can't form it into words for myself and everything I say you don't understand and you're not a good liar so I can tell when you don't even if you say you do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know you're just trying to help. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I shouldn't get so upset about you trying to help. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But you're just making it worse. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I will never tell you any of this. Because you already feel guilty for me having depression even though I've told you it's not your fault. And I'm scared any extra guilt will just eat you away even more. </span></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-92169824746296487292012-09-20T20:20:00.001+01:002012-09-20T20:21:32.352+01:00The Importance of Being Lexie...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Earlier I tweeted this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjErHo3m81dYf8PYHtnrEAQbxCl956HiwdBCW06QCWsTHLDGOnFe52io1UqQbGjLPEbZMaziPqX5_VlJcldDT-FjeTDwKQf-6-ic4eKHaJAVSIqkD_oUfZFjLM1ODTXApDSK4bOwQT9o3y3/s1600/me+tweet.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjErHo3m81dYf8PYHtnrEAQbxCl956HiwdBCW06QCWsTHLDGOnFe52io1UqQbGjLPEbZMaziPqX5_VlJcldDT-FjeTDwKQf-6-ic4eKHaJAVSIqkD_oUfZFjLM1ODTXApDSK4bOwQT9o3y3/s400/me+tweet.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I first starting blogging about four years ago I was
completely anonymous. In comments people used to call me Despondent Medic (based
on my first blog) or It’s Complicated (the title of this blog). At the
very most I put “A” in the name box on the Blogger profile. But then one of my
readers (I think it was <a href="http://inomniaparatus-rosieee.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Rosie</a>) said that I needed a real name, an on-line
persona, something concrete they could address me by. And so, Lexie Bellafonte
was born. “Lexie” is one of my all-time favourite girl’s names, although I’m
not sure if the <i>Grey’s </i>character or
my love of the name came first; “Bellafonte” was the surname of the protagonist
in the book I was reading at the time (The Passage by Justin Cronin, in case
you were wondering). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Before Lexie I never felt like I was a completely different
person on-line. I was still me, I just talked about personal stuff that I
couldn’t vent about in real life. That’s why I blogged – I needed a place where
I could document and talk about things that were happening that I couldn’t
really talk about with my family or friends; I was anonymous so I wouldn’t
offend anyone. And that’s not to say that now Lexie-me and Real-me are
completely separate people. That would be crazy. But I do feel like there are a
few differences between Real-me and Lexie-me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie-me is more outspoken that Real-me, although like Real-me
she doesn’t like offending people with her opinions :p Lexie uses the word “hun”
a lot; she lols and is capable of sarcasm. She doesn’t trip over words
(obviously ‘cause, you know, typing). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I don’t think that we are separate people. However I do
feel that I’m more like Lexie now, as opposed to Me, whilst still being me (if
that makes sense). What I think the issue (if you can really call it an issue)
is, is that I’m not the person I was four years ago. And that’s not just
because I’ve grown and, hopefully, matured; it’s because I’ve changed since the
depression and it’s been change for the better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This post sounded so
much more intellectual in my head.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the past year or so the line between Lexie-me and Me-me
has blurred. I almost started blogging under my real name (see <a href="http://complicated-it-is.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/who-i-am.html" target="_blank">this</a> and <a href="http://complicated-it-is.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/who-i-am-2.html" target="_blank">this</a>).
When that fell through I made sure to put my real name at the bottom of the
poems I posted to my blog and I now chat to a reader (and very good friend) on
Twitter as Lexie and on Facebook as Me. Through <a href="http://www.medicineunboxed.com/about-medicine-unboxed-1/l" target="_blank">Medicine Unboxed</a> I’m known by
both names. I follow people on Twitter on my course who know who I am in real
life. I even went into the Uni branch of Waterstones today and asked if I could
see the lady who manages their Twitter feed because I wanted to say ‘hi’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to be Me-me online. I want to be able to say to my
friends “I have a blog”. I want to be open, honest and, most of all, proud of
who I am. But…and we’re back to the <a href="http://complicated-it-is.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/who-i-am.html" target="_blank">Who I Am</a> blogpost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now, like I tweeted, people who I know in real life who
don’t know about a) my online presence and b) my “complications” are appearing
as suggestions on Twitter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even in my head I don’t think there was a natural conclusion
to this blog. I’ve been through all that with ‘Who I Am’. I suppose part of me <i>wants </i>those lines between on-line and
reality to become blurred so I have to be me…Well, have to acknowledge that I’m
Lexie as I do prefer Lexie-me to Real-me. Maybe I’m just trying to convince
myself that I’m proud of who I am. I <i>am </i>proud
of who I am. I am Lexie. Lexie is me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yeah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-77942856516017345402012-09-13T12:47:00.001+01:002012-09-13T19:43:46.021+01:00My First Hospital Placement...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m happy to report that my first week on my hospital placement hasn’t been that bad. Well, I say week; I mean three days. We’re back in the medschool today and Friday for lectures and anatomy. But placement has been fun. Not overly amazing, but not terrible either. A few too many lectures and hardly any patient contact but we’re still in the introductionary phase. I did, however, take blood from a fake arm and lose my first patient. Start as you mean to go on etc. And talking of starts, before anything new (the first day, the first time I met a patient) I’ve been really nervous and anxious. Thankfully I’m fine after a few minutes and I’m not nervous the next time round. I think this can be called ‘progress’. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next week will be a lot more hands-on. We have some bedside teaching planned, they want to teach us how to give injections and I’m aiming to be in for 8am on Monday so I can practice taking bloods. At the end of next week we can our proper timetables, which I’m nerdly excited about. We’re scheduled to do on-calls at some point and despite what people say about the dire nature of ward rounds I’m oddly looking forward to them. It’ll also be good to finally meet the team I’m attached to, and as I’m on my surgery rotation hopefully I’ll get to scrub up soon. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We also have to choose a self-directed learning project on a topic we know nothing about in the next few weeks. We’re meant to stay largely in the realm of Medicine or Surgery but we were told it would be alright if we did Paeds or A&E. Consequently I’m torn between doing something Paeds related (we don’t get a Paeds rotation till 5<sup>th</sup> year and it’s a speciality I’m very interested in) or doing Orthopaedic Surgery (I know nothing about it, the medschool will be happier and there may be more opportunities to get hands on). Thoughts? I’m leaning towards Ortho but I may wait to see which team I get assigned to – pointless doing Ortho if I’m allocated to an Ortho Consultant. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Update: Assuming I'm not placed with an Ortho team I'm going to go for Orthopaedic surgery. Acutely aware that the medschool already doesn't like me (for intercalating without passing 2nd year) and I don't want to stir the hornet's nest.</b> </span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-71410400141911873002012-09-08T20:23:00.000+01:002012-09-08T20:23:05.453+01:00I Don't Like It...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>#nowplaying</b> Imagine Dragons ~ It's Time</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve been in Birmingham in my 3<sup>rd</sup> year for a week now. A very, very long week. It feels like I’ve been back for months, but at the same time I can’t help but feel that I’ve only just come arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought it would be weird coming into a year where I didn’t know anyone, but thankfully it hasn’t been that bad. One of my best friends who resat part of first year is now in my year, and turns out loads of people intercalated so there are plenty of familiar faces. I don’t know anyone in my hospital firm but I’ve had anatomy with most of them over the past week and as long as I stop being a nervous wreck and try to join in, making friends shouldn’t be too hard. I just keep reminding myself that it was awkward with my group at the start of first and second year but after a few weeks it all settled down and we became friends.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anatomy has been awful. I don’t remember anything. At all. And everyone else seems to remember everything. Consequently this has left me feeling very insecure and stupid. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Actually, I haven’t been enjoying it much. Actually I’ve hated it. I don’t want to be here. I want to be back in Bristol, or anywhere else so long as it isn’t home, or Birmingham, or on a Medical course. My mood has taken a drastic plunge. I know, I know, I should just give it time, try and settle in and it’ll get better. And maybe it will get better. But right now is hard, and I’m not happy. Well, I am now. Last night was the first night I went to bed happy. That was because today was Saturday and Saturday means I don’t have to go into the Medical School.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Placements start on Monday. I am simultaneously hopeful (because it will be completely different to lectures and hopefully I’ll enjoy it) and terrified (I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!!!!!). Also worried (I don’t know my group. What happens if they don’t like me???). Excited (I get to do procedures on real people). Petrified (I REALLY, REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING. I CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING.) Anxious (What if somebody talks to me and I mess my words up and they’re left thinking I’m stupid?). <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And lastly, tired. Exhausted. Been waking up at 6:30 every morning. Now that’s not that early. I woke up at that time for high school. But last year I had 6 teaching hours a week. Getting my body back into sync with the medical world has been hard. On Tuesday night I took a sleeping pill, woke up on Wednesday morning unable to get out of bed, told myself I’d go back to sleep and didn’t wake up till 2pm. I didn’t go in, but I did miss Prosection (yay!). On Friday my alarm went off and I actually shouted ‘Nooooooooooooooooooo!’ at it. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So yeah. Mixed feelings, mixed emotions, mixed hopes, mixed everything. Just going to have to see how it goes. Alternatively I could get in my car and drive off like I did Tuesday night. I came back then. This time I’m thinking I could make it to France before anyone realised…. </span><o:p></o:p></div>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-19909969649235968422012-09-01T21:01:00.000+01:002012-09-01T21:01:39.660+01:00Birmingham take 2...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm back. Back to medicine. Back in Birmingham. That is all. For now. </span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-59929042304161438472012-08-13T12:05:00.007+01:002012-08-13T12:12:29.016+01:00What A Summer...<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So…yeah…lots happened. I would have blogged earlier but things have been a little emotionally fraught…anyways, in case you’re interested, here is a quick summary of everything that has happened over the past few months.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Lake District</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We went on holiday. We haven’t been on a proper holiday since 2001, and that was when Dad was still here. Actually, that’s not true. We went to Wales last year. That went almost as badly (perhaps worse) than this holiday. I think the problem was that we just don’t know how to relax, and our individual ideas of what counts as relaxation/a holiday are all so different. Anyway, it could have been worse. The day we got back from the Lakes in 2001 our next door neighbour had a heart attack on his driveway and died. Nobody died this time. We almost killed each other but there were no actual deaths. So…yey?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Graduation</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">‘Twas epic. I had such a great time. We went down to Bristol the day before and I took my family round the sights. Well, one sight. This one. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg__Ng9Rj4rG9RmCBPv9KiVPFbRACMrGx018AhnjCCzx0CV4RpRDqtrcoOeYKw6eKfQygZTo-erCDa-w9MBULFS-g7mX2rI12tFOUN_sdQxviujLlc2COZgSOiiWgiw9kB61nawOqx6H2dY/s1600/SAM_0348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg__Ng9Rj4rG9RmCBPv9KiVPFbRACMrGx018AhnjCCzx0CV4RpRDqtrcoOeYKw6eKfQygZTo-erCDa-w9MBULFS-g7mX2rI12tFOUN_sdQxviujLlc2COZgSOiiWgiw9kB61nawOqx6H2dY/s320/SAM_0348.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mum and brother spent the night with me in my tiny, creaky student room. Turns out the floor is harder than concrete and every time anyone rolled over it made a noise loud enough to wake a hibernating bear. Suffice to say nobody got any sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The day itself was beautiful. Nice weather, even nicer people, a lovely ceremony where we cheered the roof down. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Afterwards I had one of the strangest conversations with my course tutors where it took two of them to tell me I was the recipient of The Medical Humanities Award. Woop :D <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Ramadan/Depression</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I fasted for less than a week before I became extremely emotionally unstable. This was the first time I had fasted whilst depressed (I had missed it last year because of resits). It probably wasn’t <i>just </i>due to the fasting; there was a lot of stuff going on at home around that time too. I didn’t want to not fast; even though technically I <i>was</i> ill it didn’t stop me from feeling like a bad Muslim and consequently extremely guilty. But at the same time I didn’t not want to fast, so cue more guilt. The decision not to fast was one of the hardest I’ve made, but it’s turned out to be the right one. I need to concentrate on my health and wellbeing, especially as I’m still on medication and suspect I need a dose change.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">21</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I turned 21 :D<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Olympics</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have neever felt so patriotic before. A huge cheer to Danny Boyle for a beyond amazing, there-are-no-words Opening Ceremony. Kudos to the BBC for amazing coverage, to the police and armed forces for their protection, to the Gamesmakers for, well, making the games. But a huge woop to all the Team GB athletes for all their hard work. No one can deny that they gave more than their best, and they made us proud. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you haven’t seen this yet, watch it. Watch it NOW :D<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/aYtpL5YhWOQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>
</b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>
</b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Cycling</b></span><o:p></o:p></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span></span>
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because I haven’t been fasting I’ve been trying to get healthy. Went out on my bike every day last week and clocked up around 40 miles. Determined to lose weight before clinicals start. <o:p></o:p></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, yeah. My summer in around 700 words...Hopefully my next blog will be more interesting :P</span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"> </span></b></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"> </span></b></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;"> </span></b></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">One final thing:</span></b> the Olympics over the past 2 weeks have really brought out the best of us as a nation. After the Royal wedding and the Jubilee I never thought I would be more proud to be British but this fortnight completely blew me away. I know my opinion counts for nothing but I’m so proud of how we handled ourselves as a nation, of how we cheered everyone on irrespective of nationality, even the losers, of the dignity and pride and humbleness of the athletes. As Seb Coe said, ‘When our time came, Britain, we did it right.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even though the Olympics are over maybe we can carry on being just as awesome. <o:p></o:p></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Toodles<o:p></o:p></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie x<o:p></o:p></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-50605626697973397872012-08-04T00:00:00.000+01:002012-08-04T00:00:49.130+01:00Quick update...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hi guys. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven't posted in a quite a while, but I'm so grateful that I keep getting hits on the blog. Lots has happened since my last post (the semi-disastrous family holiday, graduation, Ramadan, my 21st birthday, the Olympics). But I've been ill too. I've tried blogging a few times but can't seem to get anything out. I'm still very active on Twitter though if you want to say hi there (@ComplicatedItIs). Chances are I'll blog again soon; if the past is anything to go by I'll probably have a proper post up in a few weeks now that I've blogged this! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Talk to you all soon. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lexie x </span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8646550256480023962.post-14513486855487270472012-06-29T12:13:00.000+01:002012-06-29T12:13:19.781+01:00No Pressure...<em><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is another poem that I submitted as part of my creative project for my Medical Humanities degree. Let me know what you think. </span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No Pressure <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m beginning to realise how Atlas felt,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">but instead of the world </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m carrying the textbook of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">why</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how</i>,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">memories of clinical skills seminars,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">a box of pharmacology flashcards,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and somebody’s life.</span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven’t met them yet,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">but one day I will ambush them with the algorithmic questions</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">of a fresh faced medical student. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They will mean something to the someone who will sit by their hospital bed and</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">try not to cry. </span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day knowing this fact or that word – </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the passage of this vessel,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the interactions of that drug – </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">will save their life.</span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For all our banter</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">our knees are beginning to buckle under the pressure</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">because it’s not just exam stress which keeps us awake. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day we will help keep a life in this world,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">but the next we may accidently take one away</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and leave somebody to cry besides an empty hospital bed. </span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span>Lexie Bellafontehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06163031738486495406noreply@blogger.com3