New Continent, New Bugs, New Healthcare

I had the pleasure of my first visit to a ‘surgery’ (doctor’s office) in the UK today … hence my induction into the NHS. (National Health Service).  I admit that I was a bit apprehensive not knowing at all what to expect.  Reliant only on the opinions, perceptions, and experiences of those in the know, (as well as the opinions, perceptions, misconceptions, and well-meaning advice of those whose only knowledge of the NHS comes from media reporting), I set out on a brisk walk into town for my ‘getting to know you’ new-patient appointment.  

Armed with prior medical records, current prescriptions, and a measure of uncertainty, combined with a good workout walking very quickly into town (given that I misjudged just how much time I needed and had to hurry), I naturally managed to work my blood pressure up just enough to make the wrong first impression.  Actually, my blood pressure reading was ‘good’ or ‘normal’, albeit not as low as it normally reads!   Not knowing how it all works, I nearly missed my cue to be seen by the nurse, as I waited expectantly in the waiting area for someone to come and bring me back.  Luckily, I was startled by a loud beep and happened to notice an electronic board above my head instructing patients by name to head to certain numbered exam rooms when it was their time. 

The nurse was a delight (much to my relief), and I soon relaxed a little.  The initial assessment with the nurse went well, and she did dispense some advice which resulted in a new plan for treating one of my pre-existing conditions.  Following the nurse appointment, I was seen by one of the doctors in the practice.  While certain things were initially ‘lost in translation’ (and he did joke that Americans need to learn to speak English, while I retorted something along the lines that English is my second language and I thought I was doing alright for an American), we appear to have successfully resolved all initial prescription and other issues. I will now see the doctor as needed for any new or non-routine issues, and see the nurse for routine follow up or wellness checks.  

While I intend to shy away at this stage from a debate over the virtues and drawbacks of the American versus British systems of health care, I will say that the experience was innocuous enough, and that it is a relief to know that I can get treatment for even pre-existing issues.  For anyone worried that I (or anyone else in my situation) might be an undue burden on the NHS, I will say that I suspect that part of the exorbitant cost of each one of the three + visas which I must procure as part of the lengthy process leading to permanent settlement in the UK likely covers my participation.  Additionally, once eligible to work, my taxes will contribute as well to this end.  I do think that a direct comparison of the two systems is inherently unfair, as each nation was founded at different points in time and on differing principals.  For anyone who worried, I’ve emerged unscathed, and honestly have only good things to say so far about the practice with which I’ve registered.  

The doctor did warn me that having moved to a new continent there will be lots of bugs that are new to me and that I can look forward to having lots of colds and viruses in the next year until my body ‘gets to know’ said bugs and things settle down.  

Hmmm…

Game face ON …!

English is my second language ... the language of food

A and I recently enjoyed a lovely Sunday evening dinner at the home of friends.  It was a fun evening, and I especially enjoyed exceptional and distinctly British cuisine.  As a cattle-fed girl from Kansas who grew up enjoying quality Midwestern steaks, potatoes, breads, salads, and much more, I have an innate appreciation for Sunday pot-roasts and the like.  In this case, we enjoyed various dishes including beef with horseradish and gravy (which I found comfortingly familiar), roast parsnips, carrots with turnips, other vegetable and salad, bread, and Yorkshire pudding.  

Yorkshire pudding is a dish unique to the UK.  I certainly never had the pleasure growing up in the States.  To my American ear, the term ‘pudding’ translates to a sweet milk-based dessert not unsimilar in consistency to egg-based custard or yogurt.  American pudding comes in a large variety of flavors, though most commonly chocolate or vanilla.  Yorkshire pudding reminded me of a mini German pancake in taste, consistency, and texture, but outwardly appears to look like a certain type of dinner roll.  It is astoundingly good, and can be eaten with or without gravy on it.  (Most traditionally with).  There is nothing like it, and it was worth breaking my long-standing low carb diet to sample it.  It is an interesting tradition.  The northern regions of England have a history steeped in mining and mining communities, as well as other hard working trades.  In the past, there were times when food and/or money were scarce, but those who worked hard needed adequate sustenance to carry on.  Yorkshire pudding was apparently served prior to a modest meal, and aided greatly in creating a feeling of fullness on a budget.  

 

After the meal, we were treated to another British original … sticky toffee pudding.  There really aren’t adequate words to convey the cacophony of flavor and amazing taste of this dessert!  Again, this ‘pudding’ in no way resembles American pudding.  It’s a very moist sponge cake of sorts with finely chopped dates (or prunes) and covered in a warm toffee sauce.  It was invented in the Lake District right here in Cumbria.  Again, a worthy excuse for a momentary lapse in diet!  

Aside from a great evening spent with friends, and delicious gastronomic temptations, I learned a bit more about the English language.  Pudding in America equals sweetened milk and gelatin, et al.  Pudding in England appears to equal bread in at least some form.  Of course I’m generalizing, and there are definitely exceptions which I’ll set aside for now.    

After dinner, a humorous discussion of British versus American (albeit Midwestern) ‘English’ language and pronunciation ensued as we compared notes and discovered disparities such as (AmE versus BrE):  basil (bay-sil  vs.  bah-sil), oregano (or-AY-gun-o  vs.  or-eh-GAH-no),  buffet (buh-FAY  vs.  BOOF-et),  pate (pah-TAY  vs.  PA-teh).

There are many more such gems.  I’ll likely always retain my American-English pronunciations socially (taking the often accompanying smile or giggle in stride), perhaps adopting British spelling where necessary (such as in a work or other non-social correspondence context).  As one who loves language, I look forward to the challenge of a multi-lingual approach to and application of ‘English’. 

In considering British and American English, and the language of food, I came across a quote from Adelle Davis who said: “We are indeed much more than what we eat, but what we eat can nevertheless help us to become much more than we are”.  



I'm looking forward to it!

Across the sea ... a look back

The other night I was falling asleep listening to the sound of rain pelting the window as the wind blew strongly in the night, and my thoughts were turned to the sea.  I imagined certain perilous Atlantic crossings of old.  Some few and some many hundreds of years ago, a number of people were seeking a better life on one side of the ocean or the other, while others were banished or exiled from their beloved homeland.  Still others were, like me, starting a newlywed life with all its uncertainties, hopes and dreams. Some left with the full blessings and well wishes of family and friends, and others perhaps in times of war or strife did not.  One thing in most cases was accepted as certain: many who crossed the Atlantic were never again to see the loved ones they left behind.  

People were apparently able to send the occasional letter, though likely old news by the time it reached the intended recipient(s).  I imagined how hard it must have been, and what brave souls made these crossings at risk of life and limb.  

My thoughts wandered thus as I reflected on my own fears of becoming increasingly out of touch, or having to work hard to remain relevant while watching friends or family make plans and live lives that at least in present tense don’t include me.  However, technology has indeed made the world seem smaller and the ocean less wide.  I am also reassured by the knowledge that true friendships and familial closeness won’t be altered by distance or the passage of time.  I am reassured by the amazing achievements we now take for granted, such as air travel, telephone, e-mail, texting, messaging, video chat, and more.  These days, a letter home (while arguably still a nice touch) is positively archaic.    

Those of you who think I am brave or bold to set out in this fashion should take note of those of generations past who were truly worthy of admiration.  Across the annals of time, I suspect that more than a few of my predecessors and I surely share a common bond: a deep and abiding love of home, and great hopes for the future.