Thoughts from DC.....

-I'm only 2 1/2 hours from DC! That's like going to Fredericton...

-I saw 12 dead dear on that short drive, even a mama and baby one together :(

-there is something about DC, I feel the same way in Ottawa, hard to explain...not magical, not powerful....maybe a bit powerful....I don't know but something...it was my third time to DC in my life (first time barely remember) and although quick, I still felt it when we went over the bridge that put us in the district and I saw the Washington Monument....hard to explain....those of you that have ever stood in front of the Parliament buildings may be able to understand the feeling I mean

-I felt old being at George Washington University (GWU) and out of style

-had to pay $17.00 for parking and we were only there for 2 and 1/2 hours (yup 17 you read that right...crazy huh?)

-was weird being in the "special collections" section of the library, had to get special clearance to go in there

-weren't allowed to bring in any bags or pens, only pencils so no ink got on anything

-were in a room that had windows facing the desk clerk, we still aren't sure if we were supposed to be quiet or not.....if so we didn't do too good of a job....we were just way too excited

-each box that I went out and brought in (we were only allowed one box at a time and we looked at 8) was a scary mystery if that makes any sense....I am the one that decided which boxes would be picked but they just had numbers on them and I didn't remember which one was what...so I knew the leucotomies (basically ice picks that Freeman designed) were in one and I just never knew which one

-instruments ended up being in the last box, we got excellent video of our reactions and thoughts on them....however I'm not the one with the video camera so I don't have the footage for you I can tell you how I felt though....it was weird, scary, sad, and exciting. I was shaking as I unfolded the warn out leather case that Freeman had opened so many times. I could just picture him putting this small case, that was no longer than a pencil, in his back pocket and walking into the surgery room or hotel room, or where ever. They weren't wrapped up or anything, they were just in there. There were 3 different sets and each were different types or spin offs maybe of the other. We had read in the book that Freeman designed his own style that he wanted and that they were adapted as he changed his technique. It was gross and creepy to be holding something that was inserted into someone's brain, that for the most part severely scared them for life or killed them, but at the same time was really saddening. We were thinking about how this was not long ago. This could have been an aunt, grandparent, or even parent of ours that this could have happened to had they been living in the states and displaying symptoms (sometimes even not displaying symptoms unfortunately) of depression, schizophrenia, severe pain, etc. So so so sad, it makes me get teary just typing this. I have been changed holding those instruments. I can't even explain it because I'm not sure fully how yet. I can't quite comprehend the depth of my soul that it has touched but I do know that it is for the better, I can feel it. The purpose of our class reading this book is to understand just how horrible people with mental illness were, and unfortunately still are in some ways, treated. Today I, at the very least, grasped that at a whole new level. These instruments were sharp, cruel, and had changed people's lives forever in an unjust and inhumane way. For some reason it just doesn't do it justice trying to explain it here as I type.