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 I posted the link to my culture shock II article on various forums I belong to and I got a number of responses I would like to share here. It was interesting to note that my experience was not unique to me and even certain geographic differences existed with respect to greeting. I think one sentiment that is unique to all the comments I received was that the 'no greeting' part of the culture rankled the most. As a friend put it-  ''This is where the French differ. For them, greeting is a way of acknowledging the humanity of the next person. You cannot not acknowledge a person; it is a faux pas.'' Another friend said- "You talk and laugh with a colleague one day...the next day, you wave at them from across the walkway....and they look right past you... GEEZ!!!!.  How does one live a life without "greeting" or at least a form of acknowledgement.... I'm still not used to it....😒" Other comments: "These are things I have experienced. T...

 I first wrote about culture shock here  twelve years ago when I came as a student to the US for the very first time. And even after all this time, there are still things that shock me, even when I think I have assimilated into a culture very different from the one I was brought up in. I'll go back twelve years and then fast forward to present times. I arrived in Boston at the end of summer and thankfully got accommodation not too far from school which meant I could walk to school and did not have to commute. It also meant that I passed by people on the street every day and as a typical 'yoruba' gal greeted them with a cheery good morning. The first few times when my greeting was not acknowledged, I thought I had not greeted loud enough for me to be heard, so I changed the cadence of my voice which resulted in the exact same response- silence. It took me a while before I stopped instinctively greeting every being I passed on my way to school, but a few months later I had ad...

 O that men would praise the Lord for His mercies and for His wonderful works to the children of men.... It has been a while since I did a thanksgiving post and I will be randomly dropping them in between my 1 week scheduled posts. The reason I did this is because I have noticed that I have become complacent acknowledging my blessings. I read a post recently that stated that where we are now is where we prayed fervently at one point to be, and it reminded me of days when I had barely enough and lived at the edge, walking almost everywhere because I counted every dollar. So instead of looking ahead at what I haven't yet received, I want to take a walk back and thank God for everything He has done for me. 1. I am thankful for life. After reading my posts on Death, I bet you are thanking God with me.  2. Thankful for family. My dad is visiting for a few weeks and its been such a refreshing time of fellowship and getting to know him again. The last time I lived under his roof was ...

 Do you ever get random memories that make you cringe or blush especially when you have not remembered those things in a long time? My brain likes to take me on random trips down remembrance lane from time to time to keep me humble or should I say it likes to remind me that I am only mortal and so I am prevented from developing airs. Yesterday was one of such days. I suddenly remembered something that happened 10 years ago and of course that led me on a convoluted journey into the underworld of cringe worthy moments. My aim in sharing these moments is to spread some of the joy of being human and if I can tease a laugh from you then I'd say my day is complete. So what did I remember? An episode that started with my sister calling me frantically about her child who was ill. She has the benefit of a personal physician- me. My default mode when I think it is not a matter to be settled on the phone is to refer her to the nearest hospital I trust. Several years ago, after my youth servic...

In recounting my near misses, I can't but think of how many other misses I am unaware of. As a child, I was the only one who was hospitalized a few times compared to my siblings and cousins. I cannot remember if I ever felt sick enough to be at deaths door, but I do know I disliked getting injections. During one of my trips to the hospital I was to receive a Novalgin injection, for those of you old enough to remember Novalgin, it was the most painful torturous injection ever. I screamed hell and blue murder as the nurse approached with a Novalgin shot. 'I don't take injections', I lamented in my most piteous voice, you would think anyone with a heart would see the tears and back down but those nurses were a special breed. After a few minutes of my temporary madness, my father was summoned, it took just one look from him and I accepted the drilling of the syringe through my marrow (that was what it felt like) without as much as a squeak. The feeling Novalgin gave your bu...

I'll digress a bit before getting back to my tale. One of my patients died today, it was expected, it was obvious when we examined that the end was near and still we tried to stop the arm of death from plucking this one away from loved ones. At what point does one give up pulling back the cord of life and allow the grim reaper tug the soul to the great beyond? When do we give up the heroic efforts to restart a failing heart of a soul whose body has been ravaged by its time on earth and infiltrated with cells not designed to nurture life? Many are guided by personal experience, religious belief and a hope so strong it laughs in the face of death to decide whether to be accepting of the eventuality or wave wiry fingers at the specter that wants to bring about the separation of a loved one. As a physician, I have a fair idea of when the grim reaper or faithful servant if you please is near. One question friends and family want to know is 'How much longer?' 'When will the ...

I wrote this on the 29th of November 2018 as the 1st part of a series on my facebook page. I eventually wrote 3 parts and no matter how hard I tried to write a 4th part I never could get round to finishing it up and then the pandemic struck and I look back on this and laugh that I had no idea what death was or is. I am re-posting these here so for those of you who have read it, I apologize and hope that I'll be able to write a 4th or even a 5th part soon.  Death is often a word that brings with it a sense of panic, of doom, a feeling of such helplessness. As a child whenever I asked my mother what killed someone, her answer was always death! It was frustrating then but in reality, that is always the answer to what killed a man. 'It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart.' I first read the words from Ecclesiastes as a child and I thought surely no benefit can be fo...

 When I announced I was back in the blogosphere, I imagined that I would churn out a post every week. I got myself an accountability group of fellow bloggers and managed to start two posts- one in my head and the other in the draft section of my email. What I did not contend with was the inertia that has held me bound for many months since the start of the pandemic. One question I get asked a lot is about working during the first months of the pandemic as a frontline worker in NY. To be honest, I do not like that question, it digs up memories I would rather leave buried and when somedays some memories pop up like a Jack in the box uninvited, I allow a few tears trickle down before hurriedly shutting the box. I am not sure what would happen if  the memories buried underneath the concrete in the shores of my mind pop up but I know that they are safer hidden in the oceans depths than swirling in the atmosphere around my head. The one emotion that stuck to me was fear. I did not t...

It's been 6 years since my last appearance here and a lot of water has passed under the bridge, more like a billion cubits. I have grown up,   I was grown before but trust me I have grown a lot more. I have completed a residency, chief residency and fellowship and actually moved from NY to a more idyllic less fast paced town in the Midwest in this time. The move has come with all of the culture shock that entails moving away from the North East and I have plenty to write about this. I transitioned from trains and buses to actually driving myself everywhere and recently completed a solo 7 hour drive with 3 brief stops to refuel and use the restroom. It seemed like a good idea then but several rarely used muscles showed up multiple days in a row to protest against being so abused that in concession to these muscles, any distance greater than 4 hours by road will automatically be upgraded to a flight. My regular driving distance on days when I want to escape the quiet of my town ...