Good things come in small packages.

I have bronchitis (which is weird, considering my mum and Granny just had it and they are 10,000 miles away).  I feel like crap, and the doctors here (no offense to the good ones that I haven't obviously met) are not really in the business of preventative care.  They want you to get really sick, THEN they'll treat you.  

In America, we pay to go to the doctor, some people exorbitant amounts, but the doctor usually feels as though they should provide some sort of service for that money.  In the UK, you don't pay to go to the doctor, so they really have no incentive to do anything for you.  They get paid to see patients, not help them.  "First do no harm" does not apply here.  My coursemate Vicky said that she couldn't get treatment for a chest infection (of course they wouldn't give her one of those evil, overused antibiotics), and she developed pleurisy (a very painful infection of the lining surrounding the lungs that many famous people have died from)!

Anyway, I was feeling particularly poorly, and after I dragged myself back to the dorm after my first seminar, I checked my mail.  In it was the Christmas present/package from my dad.  I wasn't planning on opening it until later, but it was heavy, and I don't think it would fit in my suitcase to Ireland. It contained exactly what I needed to feel better/home.

The Braves, grits, Sour Patch Kids, Entertainment Weekly.  Stick a fork in me, I'm done.