In 1988 I was in college, and Ethiopia was in a state of famine. I looked at the pictures, read the newspaper articles about food aid and Doctors Without Borders, and decided this was what I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to do medical work in Africa.
I got a degree in English Lit, spent a year being a gopher with the Flying Doctor Service in Kenya, then came home and got a master's in nursing so I could be a family nurse practitioner. Then I got married. Then I got divorced. Then I went to Southeast Asia for a while to stare at Balinese monkey temples and get myself together. Then I worked on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota for two years. Finally, I went back overseas to work at a hospital in India, on the banks of the Ganges.
Then, wouldn't you know it, I got married again, and went back to grad school. In Iowa. My husband, The Tall Doctor, is an internist at the University hospital, and I work part-time in an emergency department in Cedar Rapids. Two years after my graduation from a writing program at the university, we are still here.
We have two boys: Rabbit, aged three, and Urplet, also known as the Tufted Puffin, aged one. We also have two cats, but the less said about them, the better.