Wednesday, 15 December 2021

Ten in Tirana

04 December was the ten-year anniversary of Sushil and me meeting in Mumbai, and we decided to mark the date with a weekend getaway.  Sushil searched for the best price-versus-points destinations and gave me three options: Bucharest, Sofia and Tirana.  As I'd been to the first two, the capital of Albania won.

Albania has a prevailing reputation for corruption and crime, with an Americanesque reverence of guns.  But this aspect of Albanian culture is hidden deeply enough to be of little note to the average traveller, and our weekend passed without incident.  I was fond of Tirana; despite what the EU might say, it’s quite obviously European, with a very heavy Italian streak.  Juxtaposing this are moments when you look around at the architecture and infrastructure and think 'I could be in India'.  A beguiling mix.

Albania is also known for its conservative views on homosexuality.  It is progressing, and we did see some PDA between a couple inside one of the nicer restaurants, but the lack of any gay bars and little openly-queer life makes it unappealing as a frequent destination.

Tirana itself is small, and almost everything of note is walkable from the central Skanderbeg Square.  We saw everything we wanted to over a few hours, and spent the rest of the time in cafés, bars and restaurants.  Tirana definitely has a Mediterranean café culture, with outdoor seating almost everywhere, hosting happy smokers sitting and chatting for hours with nothing more than a cappuccino.  Technically smoking indoors is illegal, but this is very loosely enforced, and we actually had to leave one restaurant as it was just too much.  But we found some absolute gems, notably Era and Noor, and had a much more sophisticated weekend than we expected heading into it.  It turned out to be a very lovely anniversary weekend.

Cheers,
Shaun




The city from our hotel room.



Mural on Skanderbeg Square.  I am unsure if it is meant to be comforting or menacing.



The one mural I wanted to see was the very Soviet façade of the National History Museum.  Unfortunately, it was covered for renovations, so I only got to see the cover mock-up.



Forever Green Tower



During the Cold War, Albania built tens of thousands of bunkers.  Most are disused, but some have been refashioned into museums, art galleries and the like.



The Tanners' Bridge is described as a "well-preserved 18th century Ottoman stone footbridge".  Fair enough, but as it is included in almost every 'what to do in Tirana' list, I expected its surroundings to have been a bit more charming.  The tourist board has missed a trick here.



When I read about the Pyramid of Tirana (An Albanian monument to the Communism that nearly crushed the country is now a crumbling wreck), it of course became #1 on my list.  I knew it was slated for redevelopment, but I hadn't realised how far along it already was.  I expected less efficiency from an ex-Stalinist Mediterranean government, but unfortunately we were too late to see the pyramid in its glory.



"One Balkan, Stonger Balkans".  Commendable, but still very optimistic at this point (see: n. balkanization).



I was quite taken by this bit of civic action.  Tirana used to be much greyer and drabber than it is today.  In the 00s, former mayor (and current PM) Edi Rama started painting many of the buildings across the city.  Though he received some criticism for giving focus to aesthetics when there are many pressing needs across the city, it has greatly improved the feel of the city, and crime and littering reportedly decreased notably in districts that had been improved.



One of the endless cafés in Blloku, Tirana's hipster neighbourhood.  Once walled off and accessible only to high-ranking Communist officials (hence 'The Block'), it is now the trendiest and liveliest area of the capital.

Shaun H. Coley ~ Holloway ~ Islington ~ London N7 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

Sunday, 26 September 2021

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum Shops at Cæsars

I had a surprising new sensation on this trip to America; it all felt a little bit foreign.  

This is a case where the English language fails.  A lot of other languages have two ways to say "I know", one that means to understand something as a fact, and another that means to be familiar with something.  I know America, but it doesn't feel familiar anymore.  I don't know if it's because I have been away for over 16 years now, or that I haven't made contact with the mothership in several years due to covid, but from the way people spoke, to the news coverage, the ads on TV,  the neverending incessant need to get into a car to do almost everything, it all felt a bit a world apart.  Other than the car dependency*, I don't mean this negatively.  There's nothing wrong with the way people speak or the ads on TV per se (though I do take exception with pharma promoting directly to consumers), I just noticed things in a different way than I had before.  Or more precisely, I noticed them; they never stood out before.  I felt a bit like a stranger in my own homeland.

But that did not detract from the intent of the trip, to see family and friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in decades.  It was great to see them in their local contexts, to understand a bit better what their lives were.  It's one thing to know someone's moved to Memphis, El Paso or Albuquerque, another to see their homes and favourite haunts in their new cities.  I got to kick back at Rachel's new beach house, be part of Natasha and Chris's rewedding, and see Russ's Summer retreat in Lake Tahoe.  Surprisingly, the one regret I have was not spending more time in LA; that was truncated due to complicated reasons, and I didn't get enough time with my friends there.

Still, by the end, I was ready to come home.  Ready to be back in our flat, walk to the store, wear a jumper in September, and ready to get back onto my course.  My next placement starts on Monday; I will have four weeks at a hospice in East London, followed by three weeks in a same-day emergency care unit.  It's good to be back to my London life.

Cheers,
Shaun

*The need to drive for everything started to feel oppressive by the end.  As my friend Kimb'uh, who was also on a long return to America at the same time, remarked, "Feels strange walking amongst all the cars in an American parking lot - kept wondering where the people were meant to go.  There’s no place for me."


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Going native at Maruca's, Seaside Heights, NJ.


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With Todd and Lady at Pieces in the Village, NYC.


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Outside the Breakers, Palm Beach, FL.  A lot of wedding history here in the Coley/Rankow/Watkinson circle.


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With cousins Sara, Jodi and Tommy at the family-famous Poncho's, Dade City, FL.


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Spanish moss and brick roads Savannah, GA.  Now that it’s in a blue state, it's a definite must-visit.


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Charleston, SC - nice, but seemed poorer and less charming than Savannah.  It’s also much more heavily-touristed - and overrun with hen parties - it’s the (prettier) Newcastle of America.


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A happy unscheduled stop, Asheville, NC.  This town is like catnip to me: up in the hills, walkable, midcentury architecture, craft beer, localvore dining, and gay bars absent of hen parties.


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Sushil picking out a souvenir in Memphis, TN.  A lot of hurt in this city, still.  It’s missed the urban renaissance of the coasts and interior cities like Austin, Chicago and Nashville, but that’s left the perverse upside of some really great city-centre space - rich in history - that’s neither been demolished nor hyper-developed.  I wonder if Memphis might be the city that gets it right.  It’ll be a tough ride either way.  My cousin has built a very nice life for herself here, however - just outside of Shelby County.


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"Sister Cities", El Paso-Juárez, TX-Chihuahua, Mexico.  This city pleasantly surprised us.  From the negative press on Juárez (across the Rio Grande), I’d inferred the worst for El Paso.  While it’s not gleaming rich, it’s certainly not poor.  It’s a nice little city, with a generous microbrewery and food culture, a visible artistic streak, and a strong sense of community and civic pride.


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Breaking bad, in Albuquerque, NM.  As a child of the desert whose firmest desire was to leave it, I’ll never quite get the appeal, but our friends have a very nice life here, and it was great to see that.  It was also the very successful climax to our Mexican/Southwest foodie tour.


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Bollywood meets Hollywood, CA.


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We're all born naked and the rest is drag, right down to the facemask.  San Diego, CA.


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Art in Santa Ynez, CA.


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On the pedestrian- / accessibility-friendly streets of Reno, NV.  Lesson (re)learnt: there’s tragedy, and then there’s Reno.


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Sun through the smoke in Tahoe City, CA.  The smoke waxed and waned depending on the winds, and 3/4 Lake Tahoe was under an evacuation notice of one sort or another while we were there.  Thankfully our little corner was not, and it often felt like we had the North Shore all to ourselves.


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Mr. Lee died while I was in Las Vegas, NV.  I am pretty sure Russ, Mike and I put several of his children through university.


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And in local news, Sushil became British this week!

Tuesday, 27 July 2021

[The Life of Shaun #582] Down the Shore

I am officially halfway through my nursing course, but I feel very far from halfway to becoming a nurse.  Judging by the upswing from part one to part two of the course, I expect next year will be a doozy.  For now, though, I am enjoying the view over Rachel Beach on the New Jersey Shore.

My original plan for this Summer was to use the time between academic years to rack up some extra placement hours to hasten my graduation date next year.  But this isn't allowed per university policy, so, for the first time since my first university, I have a Summer off.  I am using the time to do an extended version of the holiday I had planned for two Aprils ago, seeing friends and family across the (mostly) South of the US: Jersey Shore; West Palm Beach and Dade City, FL; Savannah, GA; Charleston and Greenville, SC; Memphis, TN; El Paso, TX; Albuquerque, NM; Los Angeles, then a whirl around CA, ending in Tahoe, before closing out the trip in Vegas in September.

One week in, with six to go, I am feeling good and relaxed.  The last two weeks of uni were full-on, with three exams and two essays submitted, and I really needed to get away from the UK for a while.  All the Brexit malarkey and the UK's ever-accelerating journey down the road to American-style nationalism and political discord are disheartening and exhausting; I need a break.  With apps and global news, it's impossible to be totally disengaged from what's going on, but it feels good not to be in it for a while.  I just hope seven weeks is enough...

Wishing everyone a Summer of zen,
Shaun



Sunset from Rachel's patio.



My version of sunbathing.  I didn't last 15 minutes.



"30 YEARS! (+1) but we missed the actual anniversary because of COVID restrictions last year. In 1990, @shauncoley and I met at Eldorado High School, playing clarinet in the marching band. A lifelong friendship was born built on our mutual love of sarcasm, Tchaikovsky, and cheese sandwiches. We've expanded our tastes and the friendship continues! Happy friendaversary, Schnookums!"

Shaun H. Coley ~ Holloway ~ Islington ~ London N7 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Friday, 12 February 2021

[The Life of Shaun #581] Life on T8

I've just finished my penultimate week of my first nursing placement; one week left and then it's back to academic life.  I'm looking forward to the (relative) lie-ins and no night shifts, but as I was leaving yesterday morning, I realised I was going to miss being on the ward.  It certainly hasn't been easy, and of course some days were better than others, but I've loved it.

I landed in quite an interesting spot for a first placement, a covid ward.  The ward is actually infectious diseases, but part of the floor was sectioned off for non-critical-care covid cases, and that's where I worked most of my shifts.  We had straight covid cases, but also, if someone came to the hospital for something else, and they were found to be covid-positive, they were moved to our ward.  Great, varied exposure for a first placement.

We had a three-week break for Christmas in the middle of the placement, and when I returned, I learned that our ward had been 'upgraded' from a standard covid ward to a high-dependency respiratory unit (HDRU).  This meant a whole new experience, as these patients were much more unwell and mostly on CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) ventilators, an aerosol-generating procedure, which requires a higher level of PPE.

The PPE is hot.  I'm more used to it now, but by the time breaks come along, I am still often dripping through my scrubs.  The work is more physically challenging, as the patients tend to have lower mobility, and I've had my first patient deaths on the HDRU.  But from a student perspective, it's been positive.  It's almost like having two placements in one, but without having to start from square one, and the nurse:patient ratio is lower, allowing for more in-depth care and learning.

And the people!  The people on the ward are phenomenal.  What they are doing, how they are handling it, how they are supporting patients and each other, it's genuinely uplifting.  There is such a unity of purpose, from the cleaners to the doctors, to take care of the patients and one another.  It's incredible to be a part of.

This won't be news to anyone, but coming from the corporate world into healthcare, I can confirm that healthcare workers are significantly underpaid.  The skills I see on the floor every day - not just from the hands-on staff, but from management as well - have so impressed me.  I see what people are having to deal with, how much they are taking on, and I can't believe they do it all, consistently and professionally, for so little.  

And thank goodness they do.  Without healthcare assistants, for example, our ward would collapse - they literally and figuratively do a lot of the heavy lifting.  If you knew everything they were doing for your loved ones while in hospital, you'd think they deserved all the money in the world, but they start on £18,005.  Outrageous.

Of course, I have not made this change for money, and one placement in, I am still very happy with the decision.  I am looking forward to the pace of academic life for a bit, but I can't wait to find out what my next placement will be and see what's coming next.

Cheers,
Shaun


The Guardian visited my trust recently and wrote the following.  T8 is my ward:

'I cry a lot on the train home': London medics fight to save Covid patients

Shaun H. Coley ~ Holloway ~ Islington ~ London N7 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Monday, 1 February 2021

[The Life of Shaun #580] It's a Sin

If I had been born ten years earlier, I'd be dead.  So too would most of my peer group.  But we were lucky; we mostly came of age hearing stories about friends dying, rather than losing our own.  But if I had moved to San Francisco in 1984 instead of 1994, I have little doubt my story would have been a lot different - and a lot shorter.

Out of nowhere, the celluloid chatter in the UK this week has been about one thing: Channel 4's It's a Sin.  It's about a group of friends who escape from the provinces to London in the early 80s to be gay, and it's brilliant.  It captures so well the joy of finally being able to live freely, of finding your people.  It also captures the fear, paranoia, and indifference as disease decimated a stigmatised minority.  It's hard to remember now, with the Warp Speed of covid, just how slowly information (and worse, treatment) came out about HIV, the decades-long sense of a noose slowly tightening.

Watching the series, it's very easy to see myself in the plotline and which role I would have played.  How lucky I am to be sitting here today.  It's a bit of a rollercoaster, but well worth the ride. 

La!
Shaun
















































To my Jills, thank you.



"So much artistic and intellectual capital was lost to us.  America turned away from their suffering for so long.  It must have been awful."  -Natasha Watkinson



The original must-see film about the early years of AIDS.


Shaun H. Coley ~ Holloway ~ Islington ~ London N7 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Sunday, 8 November 2020

[The Life of Shaun #578] Twenty-Twentugh

What a sense of dread and disappointment I woke to on Wednesday morning.  It was one thing, four years ago, to vote for an unknown man against a publicly-maligned and divisive opponent.  It's quite another to know what kind of president Trump is and vote for more of it.  So, despite the lessons of 2000 and 2016, my spirit slumped seeing all that red on the map.

As the tide turned over the week, I grew more hopeful, and was proud and happy when the vote from black-majority Atlanta turned the tide against Trump.  But even when Pennsylvania pushed Biden to victory, my joy was tempered; there are still 70 million Americans who think Trump's behaviour is not only acceptable, but desirable.  Policy aside, the president is also America's head of state, and to want a petulant, entitled, lying bully to represent your country on the world stage is something I just don't understand.

Fortunately he's done, but Trumpism isn't going away.  Like the poison unleashed by Brexit, this rot is now endemic, and it's going to be a long slog to cure.  I have faith Biden is a good starting point.  He's innocuous but respectable, and he's a centrist, which America needs to dampen the knee-jerk polarisation that's characterised its politics since the Tea Party shrieked its way onto the scene.

So good luck, Mr. President, and Mme. Vice President.  May you leave America in a better, calmer, kinder place in four years' time, ready and waiting for President Harris to finish the job.

Cheers,
Shaun

Shaun H. Coley ~ Islington ~ London N1 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Monday, 26 October 2020

[The Life of Shaun #577] Done and busted?

I am officially out of quarantine today, and I've passed the "double dip" risk period, where some people start to feel better, but then quickly deteriorate.  I am expecting fatigue and anosmia for some weeks, possibly months, from what I've read and heard, but it's manageable.

On this side of things, I wonder how much more widespread SARS-CoV-2 is than is known.  I never developed a cough, the key feature of covid-19, which makes me think there must be an appreciable number of undetected cases out there.  Hopefully millions, and the severe cases we see are extreme outliers.  But who knows, and who knows when we'll have that data reliably.

Until then, wash your hands and up your quinine.  The latter won't help with covid-19, but it might help with your nerves, which is just as important.

Cheers,
Shaun

Shaun H. Coley ~ Islington ~ London N1 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Friday, 23 October 2020

[The Life of Shaun #576] Anosmia Phởk

I lost my smell last night.  It happened over the course of a phở.

At the start, it was fragrant and flavourful; by the end, it was flat with a metallic undertone.  I didn't think much of it until I had some Ben & Jerry's and it had the same metallic 'note'.  This kicked off a series of smell tests from bathroom odoriser to Czech schnapps, all of which were a hard fail.  (Dog farts too, so it's not all lose.)  I know this is a common effect of covid-19, but it's a bit scary as developing new symptoms makes me presume that the virus is still gaining ground in my body rather than being on the wane.

This morning I feel the same; same sore/scratchy throat and fatigue since last Saturday, so I don't feel on the decline.  I'm checking my blood O2 regularly, and it's at 98% when I am sitting upright, so no warning signs yet.  Nothing to do but wait and hope it stays mild and the senses return in full.  Tedious.  May it remain so.

Cheers,
Shaun

Shaun H. Coley ~ Islington ~ London N1 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Wednesday, 21 October 2020

[The Life of Shaun #575] 40,000,002

Covid-19 has made its way to our little corner of Islington - Sushil and I are now part of the statistics.  Well, technically only I am; Sushil's test came back negative.

I started to feel ill on Thursday, and on Friday I had a fever, so I entered my symptoms into the NHS test-and-trace app, and they sent tests for our household in the post.  We took the tests Sunday, mailed them to a lab in Glasgow on Monday, and I got my positive result this morning.  Though Sushil's test was negative, we are pretty sure he was the vector.  Despite the upswing in cases in the UK, his work has continued to insist he commute into the office daily by tube, and the week before I was ill he felt "a bit under the weather", which by his Indian immune system standards is near-death.

I felt rather miserable on Friday, but my fever broke on Saturday, and since then I've felt mostly alright.  I've been fatigued with a bit of a scratchy throat, but nothing too bad.  I know this virus can go up and down, but I am hoping that since the initial hit was relatively mild, I am on the path to recovery.  If this is my brush with covid-19, I'll take it.

Convalescing,
Shaun

Shaun H. Coley ~ Islington ~ London N1 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Wednesday, 9 September 2020

[The Life of Shaun #574] If I were 19 again...

...I would become a nurse.  I've been throwing around this catchphrase for years.  I even looked into it quite seriously nine or ten years ago, going to an open day at a local university.  I couldn't imagine relating with the 18ish year-olds who would be my cohort over the three-year programme, and decided I was too old to be that poor again.

But the thought never really left me.  It's been bouncing around between the back and front of my head.  And these years later, things are different, both with me and my options.

Practically, they now have a truncated version of the course for people with a BSc in another discipline who are making a career change.  It's two years instead of three and, while I'd be on the upper side of the age range, I'd be with my peers, other adults beginning their second (or third) careers.

But more importantly, personally things are different.  I am looking for something else out of life than I was then, and I've had some years to build up my financial side a bit so that aspect's not as scary as it once was.

So today was my last day at Barclays.  I have a long weekend break, scheduled with a massage and lunches, before starting my next chapter on Monday: the MSc in Adult Nursing at City, University of London.

I'll never be 19 again, but I can still do this.

Excited and terrified -- but more excited,
Shaun


In the requisite tone, my application essay, if you are keen on a bit more colour:

I can't recall when I realised I wanted to be a nurse, but it's been on my mind for some time. I remember a night, about ten years ago, at home with my flatmate. At some point in our conversation I said that if I were 19 again, I would become a nurse. We talked about it, and how if I had followed that path, I wouldn't have travelled as much, and I might not have moved to London - any path you take opens some options and closes others.


What I can remember is why I felt that way. I hadn't had any major health issues, but I'd had enough encounters with health services to have an impact: stitches and a broken arm when I was a kid, mole biopsies and wisdom teeth extraction as a teenager, a varicocelectomy and sexual health screenings as an adult. What I remember the most about these encounters is the nurses, their presence not just during, but before and after each procedure, tending to and soothing me, patiently answering my unending questions. I remember how much calmer and reassured they made me feel, and at one point thinking I wanted to be that person for somebody else.


A little over five years ago, I was that person. My mother was diagnosed that February with stage IV lung cancer; she underwent one round of chemotherapy, but decided that the effects weren't worth the few extra months she might gain, and refused further non-palliative treatment. She was fine for a while, but around August she started to slow down, and by the end of October, my sisters and I all recognised what was coming. I flew to Illinois to live with them and take care of my mom.


At first she was just weak and needed help in and out of bed and her wheelchair, but soon she needed to be hoisted up and down. Next came the pain, finding ways of mitigating it without diminishing her awareness: patches in the morning, ibuprofen in the afternoon, morphine for a good night's sleep. As the tumours spread and grew, she became weaker; her right arm gave out, followed by her legs, and she relied on me completely not to be bed-ridden. Of course, eventually she was; it became too difficult and painful to get out of bed, so my sisters and I took turns tending to her, feeding her, cleaning her, helping ease her pain.


She died a few days after getting into the bed for the last time; she hated being dependent, so we were all glad it was quick. Those were the hardest months of my life, but also the most thankful and purposeful. I was glad every day I could be there for my mom, to help her through the difficult end of her life. I could see on her face when she was scared, or the pain was coming back. And getting to be that person - the one who calmed and reassured her - felt like the most natural thing in the world.


When I was 19, I didn't know what I wanted to do, other than get out of my hometown and travel.  I knew education was the route out, so I studied hard and received a BSc in Computer Science with honours from a top-tier engineering school in the Northeast, followed by a job in technology at IBM. After five years, I moved to London and sat an MBA to expand my career options, landing a job at Morgan Stanley, then Barclays.  I've had a challenging, varied and successful career in competitive, ever-changing industries, but the primary rewards have been outside of the workplace. As I've begun ticking into my 40s, I've reassessed what I want out of the rest of my professional life. I want to dedicate my time, capabilities and energy to something that is more personally rewarding and meaningful, and the only thing that makes sense to me is that thought that's been bouncing around in my head for more than a decade: being that person for someone - being a nurse.


Shaun H. Coley ~ Islington ~ London N1 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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