Wanderings with Wenikio

Holy hardware, Batman!

2011-09-01T03:24:00.001-05:00

Well hooray! Surgery was a success yesterday, at least so far anyway. It's not as painful (so far) as I'd feared it might be, but to be sure it's not exactly a cake walk either. However, compared to the first surgery, it's a breeze. It doesn't seem like the swelling will be anything near what it had been and overall the rehab isn't quite as aggressive right off the bat. No "cannonballs" and heel slides every hour, but when I do do them, the pain hasn't been as bad. Granted, the epidural was turned off only a few hours ago, I'm on one IV, three oral, and one transdermal patch for pain management, but hey, it's working :)

My shin bone is like swiss cheese and my hip is only slightly better off, so I'm 50% weight bearing for a few weeks with modified exercise. I'm looking forward to getting back to rehabbing in the pool and I really can't wait for the more acute recovery to be over so that I can really put my new leg through its paces (Ha! Pun totally intended!). I've tried to run a few steps prior to this hardware removal and besides the pain, I was at a total loss for how to do it. The new leg moves so differently from my hips to my toes that it's difficult to coordinate. The exercise physiologist I've checked in with recommends not even trying to learn how until the other leg is corrected. I think she's right. So in the meantime, it's swimming and biking for me.

For the millionth time I've got to say (and with no less enthusiasm), this new leg is awesome. Of course it's not perfect and I don't have the finished product yet (I've been told people continue to improve for up to two years), but if the course so far is any indication, I have a lot to be thankful for.

Also... I've got to say, I'm a little proud of my hardware (and perhaps a little sad to be unable to claim bionic status anymore)! I could feel two plates and several screws through the skin, so I'm glad they're out for that reason as well as for the discomfort they caused, but they're still cool- ten silver, four blue, two green, two silver plates, and one yellow plate for a total of sixteen screws and three plates!

Yes siree Bob, they'll make a great wind chime!

PS- If anybody reaches this blog by searching derotational osteotomy, I'd be more than happy to pass along my research and experiences. I'd like to "pay it forward" since I finally started getting answers last year from others who'd gone through the same or very similar types of surgery.

Ouch, only 12 out of 100.

2011-08-21T19:49:00.004-05:00

To follow the NPR (US National Public Radio) meme, copy this list, putting in Bold those you have read.

1. The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy, by J.R.R. Tolkien
2. The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, by Douglas Adams
3. Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card
4. The Dune Chronicles, by Frank Herbert
5. A Song Of Ice And Fire Series, by George R. R. Martin
6. 1984, by George Orwell
7. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
8. The Foundation Trilogy, by Isaac Asimov
9. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
10. American Gods, by Neil Gaiman
11. The Princess Bride, by William Goldman
12. The Wheel Of Time Series, by Robert Jordan
13. Animal Farm, by George Orwell
14. Neuromancer, by William Gibson
15. Watchmen, by Alan Moore
16. I, Robot, by Isaac Asimov
17. Stranger In A Strange Land, by Robert Heinlein
18. The Kingkiller Chronicles, by Patrick Rothfuss
19. Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
20. Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley
21. Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?, by Philip K. Dick
22. The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood
23. The Dark Tower Series, by Stephen King
24. 2001: A Space Odyssey, by Arthur C. Clarke
25. The Stand, by Stephen King
26. Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson
27. The Martian Chronicles, by Ray Bradbury
28. Cat’s Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
29. The Sandman Series, by Neil Gaiman
30. A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess
31. Starship Troopers, by Robert Heinlein
32. Watership Down, by Richard Adams
33. Dragonflight, by Anne McCaffrey
34. The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, by Robert Heinlein
35. A Canticle For Leibowitz, by Walter M. Miller
36. The Time Machine, by H.G. Wells
37. 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, by Jules Verne
38. Flowers For Algernon, by Daniel Keys
39. The War Of The Worlds, by H.G. Wells
40. The Chronicles Of Amber, by Roger Zelazny
41. The Belgariad, by David Eddings
42. The Mists Of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley
43. The Mistborn Series, by Brandon Sanderson
44. Ringworld, by Larry Niven
45. The Left Hand Of Darkness, by Ursula K. LeGuin
46. The Silmarillion, by J.R.R. Tolkien
47. The Once And Future King, by T.H. White
48. Neverwhere, by Neil Gaiman
49. Childhood’s End, by Arthur C. Clarke
50. Contact, by Carl Sagan
51. The Hyperion Cantos, by Dan Simmons
52. Stardust, by Neil Gaiman
53. Cryptonomicon, by Neal Stephenson
54. World War Z, by Max Brooks
55. The Last Unicorn, by Peter S. Beagle
56. The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman
57. Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett
58. The Chronicles Of Thomas Covenant, The Unbeliever, by Stephen R. Donaldson
59. The Vorkosigan Saga, by Lois McMaster Bujold
60. Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett
61. The Mote In God’s Eye, by Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle
62. The Sword Of Truth, by Terry Goodkind
63. The Road, by Cormac McCarthy
64. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke
65. I Am Legend, by Richard Matheson
66. The Riftwar Saga, by Raymond E. Feist
67. The Shannara Trilogy, by Terry Brooks
68. The Conan The Barbarian Series, by R.E. Howard
69. The Farseer Trilogy, by Robin Hobb
70. The Time Traveler’s Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger
71. The Way Of Kings, by Brandon Sanderson
72. A Journey To The Center Of The Earth, by Jules Verne
73. The Legend Of Drizzt Series, by R.A. Salvatore
74. Old Man’s War, by John Scalzi
75. The Diamond Age, by Neil Stephenson
76. Rendezvous With Rama, by Arthur C. Clarke
77. The Kushiel’s Legacy Series, by Jacqueline Carey
78. The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. LeGuin
79. Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury
80. Wicked, by Gregory Maguire
81. The Malazan Book Of The Fallen Series, by Steven Erikson
82. The Eyre Affair, by Jasper Fforde
83. The Culture Series, by Iain M. Banks
84. The Crystal Cave, by Mary Stewart
85. Anathem, by Neal Stephenson
86. The Codex Alera Series, by Jim Butcher
87. The Book Of The New Sun, by Gene Wolfe
88. The Thrawn Trilogy, by Timothy Zahn
89. The Outlander Series, by Diana Gabaldan
90. The Elric Saga, by Michael Moorcock
91. The Illustrated Man, by Ray Bradbury
92. Sunshine, by Robin McKinley
93. A Fire Upon The Deep, by Vernor Vinge
94. The Caves Of Steel, by Isaac Asimov
95. The Mars Trilogy, by Kim Stanley Robinson
96. Lucifer’s Hammer, by Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle
97. Doomsday Book, by Connie Willis
98. Perdido Street Station, by China Mieville
99. The Xanth Series, by Piers Anthony
100. The Space Trilogy, by C.S. Lewis

Yikes, I guess I've got some reading to do! Thank goodness for free classics on the Kindle!

Passion for a passion

2011-08-12T08:00:00.000-05:00

Oooooooh! As if the hibiscuses weren't cool enough, one of my favorite flowers is growing right down the street!

The passion flower is another one of those things attached to some vivid memories. There are two particular scenes that come to mind. The first is a simple snapshot of standing in a Seattle summer drizzle in a bright lime green slicker at the Ballard Locks. I was on my way through the small botanical garden to sit on the hill to watch the boats pass through. Man, I miss that.

The second memory evoked is in front of the same plant but on a warm, sunny day. A fellow Midwesterner and I were taking a pit stop to enjoy the locks and fish ladder. After this rather unfortunate view of one of the salmon counters, the flower was a nice contrast ;) We were hot, happy, and lighthearted when we finally got to Ray's Boathouse to watch the boats weave around Puget Sound.

I've never seen the flower anywhere else besides the Ballard locks and had no idea they could live here. This Redneck Riviera passion flower is on the street beside a driveway that I drive past every time I come and go from our neighborhood. We must have walked by it a million times, but I never noticed it- probably because we were trying to keep Beast Two from strangling himself with the leash. I've never been here in the summer, so I maybe they just weren't blooming.

The lady there has a nice garden that she obviously puts a lot of effort into from spring to fall. I feel like I should go over there and tell her how much I enjoy seeing her garden every day and how I especially love her passion flowers.

It was a dark and stormy night....

2011-08-10T08:00:00.001-05:00

The weather here is kind of strange in that it's pretty focal for the most part. Down at the beach, just four miles south and two miles west of the house, they will have no rain and be watching the storm clouds dumping rain on our abode. I took this picture last night at dinner. One mile south, no rain, one mile north and it was pouring. I think it's neat, but it creates jealousy when I'm so close and yet so far from the rain.

On a somewhat related note (weather... Redneck Riviera... allergies), I noticed that my allergy nasal spray has a warning on it telling people not to use in the eyes. Is this really necessary? I mean, I know I'm a nurse and all, but I'm pretty sure "nasal" isn't medicalese and is in general, everyday language. Am I wrong?

Glasses and books and awkwardness

2011-08-03T08:00:00.001-05:00

I realize that there's not a whole lot of substance to recent entries. Bear* with me as I recover from blogatrophy.

I realized that my new glasses are exactly like Peleke's. Oops. I think they're unisex but still. I don't think people have noticed yet, and perhaps they won't, but I feel like they're screaming for attention. Awkward.

And speaking of glasses... reading... books! I just finished two books and am going through that withdrawal you get from a really good read. Check out The Pillars of the Earth and The Help.

*Did you know that "bare with me" means "get nekked with me?" Yeah, hmm. Wonder if I've every accidentally written it that way. Awkward^2.

Diagnosis Wenckebach

2011-08-01T08:00:00.002-05:00

Don't hate me for this, but I have to post it because it's both horrible and hilarious:

I watched it a few years ago and it still cracks me up.

And yes, it's also annoying.

Blorf

2011-07-30T19:58:00.007-05:00

You know how sometimes everything is really ok but it feels like it's not? Yeah, it's been one of those weeks. Nothing serious, just multiple days of feeling powerless about most things going on around me.

I'm feeling crabby, frustrated, and lonely. Well, lonely in that the-AF-owns-my-husband-and-I'm-here-because-they-say-so-now-where-did-they-put-him? sort of way. I miss my girlfriends.

End pity party.

As the saying goes, if you can't say anything nice... post a funny picture (or eight). Something like that.

Right, that about sums things up.

These ain't your grandma's Crayola colors!

2011-07-29T08:00:00.000-05:00

In perusing one of my guilty pleasures, I got the inspiration I was looking for. We've been discussing paint colors for our place, but neither of us is particularly, um, decoratively inclined. So it's been slow going.

Enter Damn You Auto Correct and voila! I think we'll go with effervescent shitstain and smoker's teeth. Yup, that'll do 'er.

But seriously, do these people not proofread?

Random question of the day

2011-07-28T08:00:00.003-05:00

When people hear beeping noises, especially alarms of any kind, why do they often feel compelled to mimic them?

Joey, your name is mud. Again.

2011-07-27T08:00:00.007-05:00

He ate my glasses. I get that it's too hot to go outside* and that they're bored out of their little minds. I just don't know what to do with them, and so we figure these sorts of things will happen. Arg (heh, not to be confused with ARG).

Anyway, I went to the Walmart optical center to find some new frames the other day. None of them jumped out to me, but they're just glasses, right? I decided on a style different than the old pair. Now the ones Joey ate probably weren't the most flattering on me (they were kind of bulky and I have a small face), but I liked them. I went with a finer frame and slightly different shape.

Why do I feel like I look so different? Like a haircut, I'm sure nobody is really paying attention and I'll get used to it quickly. Still, it's weird.

*A few weeks ago, I took the dogs to our usual beach. It was so hot out and the water was like bath water. Guess who drank half the Gulf of Mexico and proceeded to vomit and diarrhea all over my car. Yeah, Joey, that's who.

2011-07-26T08:00:00.000-05:00

The difficult thing about being concise is that then you can't explain the conversation in your head that lead you to the conclusion.

More awkwardness

2011-07-25T08:00:00.001-05:00

It took me a stretch of years to feel comfortable or polite calling adults by their first names. Now, well past the quasi-adult stage, there are still times where I feel uncertain. I try to err on the side of caution, but even that can be a bit tricky. Some people are just sensitive about their age.

Having mostly mastered that awkwardness, I find myself in another strange spot. I've been noticing a trend of more older people (meaning, ones you'd expect to be retired) in the workforce. I suppose it's no surprise. There are a number of people "forced out of retirement" with current state of national affairs. I find it to be a strange interaction, though, because on the one hand they're doing you a paid service, but on the other hand, well, it's Grandma, you know?

Shopping is the hardest and the Commissary is the worst. Shouldn't we be carrying Grandma's grocery bags to the car and not the other way around? The majority of baggers are older folks working only for tips. As we walk out of the air conditioning into the sweltering Redneck Riviera heat, I feel downright shame for walking casually alongside Grandma or Grandpa as (s)he pushes my load of groceries to the car with arthritic knuckles, a gently stooped back, and a slow gait. It's a no-win situation. I mean, if I don't use them, they don't make money (they sure aren't doing it for kicks). If I do use them, it feels disrespectful, especially when it's a heavy load.

It feels wrong. Unlike reaching the age at which you can address most people on a first name basis, I think this is different.

He wasn't squawkin' 1200

2011-07-24T08:00:00.001-05:00

The other day, Peleke and I were flying. I looked out and saw a black splat on the strut that hadn't been there when we took off, and we had been cruising at 5500 feet for quite some time. Upon closer examination, I noted that it was relatively big. I mean, a common bug wouldn't have left that sort of mark. The wings gave it away. They were pressed almost perfectly against the white metal. It had been a dragonfly!

Of all the heights, latitudes, and longitudes where we could be flying, how is it that we killed probably the only dragonfly for miles around?

Another piece of nostalgia

2011-07-23T08:00:00.000-05:00

After graduating college, I moved home to the Midwest for (what I thought was) a good job. Initially I commuted from my folks' place. It was 45 minutes to an hour each way, and I was counting the days until the first few weeks of orientation were over. They were five day work weeks, and the commute during rush hour was killing me. Eventually I settled into the typical three day work week of nursing with its avoidance of rush hour- a perk of twelve hour shifts. But the weeks of orientation felt like forever.

Heh, gotta love The Sandlot!

One morning my usual Chicago radio station did the classic radio show first-caller-with-the-correct-answer-wins-a-prize thing. Bored out of my mind during the 5:45 am commute, I chanced calling in... and won!

I'm not one of those people who seem to have good luck with drawings and lotteries (sorry Peleke, guess the lottery as a retirement plan isn't going to work out). Offhand I can recall winning two things in my life. The second thing was some sort of drawing at a yacht club when I was young. I won a teal blue tshirt undoubtedly advertising something. I was so excited regardless of the fact that there was no hope of it fitting me.

How long does it take for blood to circulate once through the human body? That was the winning question. Now of course there are a number of variables to account for here- size, heart rate, current activity/stress, cardiovascular status, hydration status, etc. I guessed something like a minute and forty-five seconds (having looked it up since then, answers vary, but apparently it was close enough to the radio station's source). When asked, I sheepishly told them that I was a cardiothoracic nurse at Chicago Big Hospital. I didn't tell them I'd only just started taking care of patients.

I heard my voice on the radio and realized how young I sounded. Is that how my patients heard me? We've all got to start somewhere, and I got my fair share of "how old are you, have you done this before*, you're so young!" and the like. That morning, the two other new nurses and I were sent up from our regular floor, the step down unit, to the ICU. As soon as we walked through the unit doors, one of the nurses proclaimed that she'd heard me on the radio that morning. I remember it being a good day up there.

I won $100 worth of movie tickets through Fandango, by the way. I didn't have any friends yet, what with the commute and where my parents lived. I moved into my apartment in Lakeview shortly afterwards, though, so in the end I used them with friends. Sometimes I hear or see ads for Fandango these days, and it makes me smile.

*There's just no good response to this. I always told the truth (or at least I didn't lie), but given the sink-or-swim nature of that unit, it sure didn't take long before I could say yes!

Hibiscus. Hibisci? Hibiscuses!

2011-07-22T08:00:00.000-05:00

When I picture a hibiscus, I see this:

But when I think about hibiscus, I see a verdant Hawaiian scene in my mind. A cursory Google image search comes up lacking, but I don't think a picture could do it justice anyway. My memories of Hawaii growing up are too fragrant, colorful, balmy, and happy to be captured by something as relatively simple as a camera.

Of course given that my family, like half of Alaska, went there during the cold, dark winters, I suppose the escape made the memories all the more poignant. Anyway.

Earlier this spring, I was speaking over our fence with our kindly, elderly neighbor. I complimented her on her garden and lamented that even if the dogs weren't eating our rose bush, tearing limbs off of the tree, or denuding our one (and only) flowering bush, I'm pretty sure the shade in our back yard would make a garden difficult. She agreed, but it's probably for the best with the dogs anyway. Less to destroy and less desirable habitat for those water moccasins. Ew.

Clearly familiar with the local flora, I asked if she knew the kind of tree just on the other side of our fence. She said it's a hibiscus tree. Now the flowers certainly looked like it (white!), but I'd asked because I was under the impression that hibiscuses grew on a bush. Well, apparently they grow as trees too! I enjoyed that happy Hawaii feeling for a few seconds.

Having not been on that side of the house in a while, I noticed a tall weed. I mean, up to my chest and straight up vertical with no branches to really speak of. Unsure what it was (pretty in its own way) and puzzled why the lawn guy hadn't whacked it with the other weeds, I asked if my neighbor could identify it as well.

You guessed it, it's a baby hibiscus tree :)

Incidentally, my neighbor said she'd always loved the single rose bush alongside of our house and asked if she could have a clipping before the dogs finish it off. She'd better hurry...

PSA

2011-07-21T23:06:00.003-05:00

Apparently physiologists (something about the University of Pittsburgh is all I caught) now say that the amount of fluid consumed in a pop more than compensates for the diuretic effect of the pop's caffeine.

Meaning? In this summer's response to Snowpocalypse, drink whatever you can!

On a somewhat related note, I detest Gatorade. No seriously, I think it's terribly gross stuff. However, the good doc insists all of his patients pound it after surgery, and so I did. My next leg will be done in November (*whimper*), and I'm hopeful that Gatorade's new watermelon-citrus flavor will provide a little variety.

My life

2011-07-01T06:00:00.000-05:00

Salt Life

Mud Life

Sweet Life

New Life

(and others I forgot to write down)

What's with all the defining "life" categories people plaster on their cars?

I plead guilty

2011-06-30T06:00:00.000-05:00

Eesh. I accidentally scheduled a post to be put up on 6/31/11. Blogger told me this was "illegal." Kind of harsh, don't you think? Are the "30 days hath September..." police going to come a knockin' on my door?

In which I'm not the only one pining for someplace else

2011-06-29T12:21:00.003-05:00

This week got off to a rocky start. Let's just say that when the beach water is like bath water, Beast #2 thinks drinking half the Gulf of Mexico is an acceptable way to cool off. My car did not appreciate the after effects. Neither did the carpet. Well, or me. Plus apparently I'm allergic to the Redneck Riviera, and it's SO HOT AND HUMID. The dogs are absolute terrors from boredom and about die if they're outside more than five minutes.

This is not fun and I'm going bonkers along with them. I don't understand why people move here of their own free will.

By Sunday afternoon I was in tears and doing what I'd promised I'd never do- telling Peleke tearfully over the phone (while he was on a work trip, no less) how much I hate the Redneck Riviera (and by extension the Air Force for moving us here). *sigh*

He'll be home this evening, so things are definitely looking up. Plus I had a really nice time at a Sunday BBQ, taco dinner with some friends last night, and tea with a friend this morning. Oh, and I can walk pretty much normally too.

By the way, here's some random Redneck Riviera trivia for you. Within a span of 50 miles, there are the following roads: Punjob Road, Billy Bob Lane, and Costaki Court. Assuming by "punjob" they meant "punjab" (not inconceivable given the region of the US and that "punjob" isn't a real word), that's an interesting smattering of locales represented.

A little of this, a little of that

2011-06-27T10:03:00.008-05:00

Hmm, it's been a month and a half. Most of my life has been consumed by surgery and rehab up until now, though, and I'm pretty sure that's not what anyone wants to read about (and so it has been posted elsewhere) :p You'll be happy to know (at least, I hope) that I'm now drug free and walking pretty much normally. The hardware will come out in August. Hip hip hooray! Heh, pun intended. Bottom line- as far as I can tell, the soul-crushing surgery was totally worth it :)

Anyway, I'm working on getting back to this blog. One of Dr. Leap's recent posts expressed what I often felt when I worked nights, especially number seven! But night shifts for blog posts isn't worth it in my book. Or blog :)

Inane item number one- something I've often contemplated. Why do some people who are otherwise civil and follow social decorum at, say, the supermarket, act like jerks in traffic? They wouldn't rudely cut in front of you with their cart in a long checkout line, yet they rudely cut you off in traffic. It's just strange.

This next thing is totally unrelated to the point of the billboard in question, just something about the design of the ad that I find amusing (let it be known that I'm an equal opportunity tattletale about this sort of thing). There are some pro-life billboards around here that have a chubby little baby sitting down proclaiming "my heart starts beating at 18 days" with an EKG tracing running the bottom length of the sign. Upon first glance, my thought was, "not for long like that, it's not!" Dude seriously, if you're trying to show a live, strong heartbeat, at least don't make it a ventricular rhythm with a wide QRS complex! Bad news, baby, bad news.

On marriage

2011-05-02T04:19:00.005-05:00

Admittedly, the main reason I started this post is to share two articles that I've come across recently and feel are worth passing along. At the end of this month, Peleke and I will have been married two years. Even in two years (and with many stretches of time apart), I've learned a lot about Peleke, me, and marriage.

I'm lucky to have good role models in my parents, and he likewise with his. We're also both lucky to have peers in marriages worth emulating.

Anyway, the two articles I hope you'll take the time to read are as follows:

1. Dr. Manning from the blog Reflections of a Grady Doc gives a shameless plug for marriage.

2. Dr. Leap from the blog Edwin Leap points out the importance of levity when seeking out romance and intimacy as a married couple with kids in date night romance revisited.

From time to time I run across other worthwhile posts and may retroactively come add them to this post. Like Dr. Manning said, I think there are all kind of good reasons to be married, and sometimes we need to hear them again and from different perspectives.

After all, we get it on all sides from the naysayers!

Progress

2011-04-27T19:15:00.001-05:00

Weight bearing minus six days!

And today I went swimming (for the second time)!

And I drove!

And I'm off the narcs!

Nice.

Added blessings (and a post I need more for myself than anything else)

2011-04-21T14:30:00.002-05:00

It has been a month today since surgery. I'm not gonna lie. It has been harder than I had anticipated- longer recovery, more pain, and certainly more sleep deprivation than I'd hoped for. All that equals one discouraged and sad patient.

In short, it sucks.

However.

Muddling through the pain this afternoon in a sleep deprived, melancholy state, I remembered something.* I remember feeling hopeless (and with some just cause, I might add) regarding my knees this November when things started to go downhill rapidly. I'd done a lot of research and finally, in desperation, had emailed Dr. Michigan in hopes of his having something to possibly contribute. The following rollercoaster of relief, hope, validation, devastation, frustration, and renewed hope with Dr. Texas was an interesting combination.

Right now, I'm trying to recapture all that hope I discovered and hang on. I'm trying to keep perspective... or at least trust in the perspective of my family.

The worst pain is over. While I can't claim to be doing much more than hanging on to sanity (and even that might be a stretch), it pretty much can only get better from here, right? I'll eventually sleep, eat, walk, and be drug free again. I have some gnarly scars that will heal great. This is very likely the end of the vast majority of troubles on this leg.

Bigger still, the nerve injury has been cured- something I hadn't expected, not even dared hope for. I can't be too thankful for Dr. Texas for not only restoring my body but making it even better.

Perhaps more importantly yet in everything, I have a husband who has been so patient, so attentive, and so loving. That might even be the biggest blessing of all.

God is truly a god of hope and healing, isn't He?

*I think it was encouraged in part by tea, of all thing. A dear friend from Mercy Ships sent me a package this week full of tea and a book- perfect. I'll admit, I chose the first tea to drink this afternoon based on its novelty (Heh. Noveltea. Be quiet. I'm drugged.). It's a little ball of something (the head of some flower?) that fits snugly inside one of those tea diffusers.** At first sip, I had the very powerful image of walking through a greenhouse. I love greenhouses and love walking through them and smelling all the flowers and soil. In a pinch, walking through the outdoor lawn and garden section of Lowe's will do. Anyway, it always relaxes me. For some reason, it made me feel hopeful. Can't attribute it to spring because we're past that here in the Redneck Riviera. It's full on summer here in my book now.

**I had to google what they are called. My search terms? Tea dunking metal. We called ours "shrimper" growing up and used to make it "talk" and bite fingers. Ooooh my family.

The stuff middle school nightmares are made of?

2011-04-15T21:46:00.001-05:00

Ha! I totally want to be this guy!

In other pressing news...

2011-04-13T10:36:00.002-05:00

I realized something yesterday as I was crutching my way past the mirror post shower. I have left-sided frog butt.

*sigh*

I was going to post a picture to illustrate, but Google images has failed on that front. Or back. Whatever.

Imagine, if you will, pulling a frog upright by its front legs so that it's "standing" on its back legs. Picture how the legs connect to the torso- no butt, just flat, right? That, my friends, is frog butt.

I really need to build the muscles back up on the surgical side...

2011-04-08T18:24:00.003-05:00

One year ago today, we lost two members of our squadron and two came home severely injured. More lives were lost and injured in the crash, but these four men belonged to us. I'd hoped the emotional intensity of it would have decreased at least a little by now, but I'm not sure that it has.

Today especially, the question of our troops getting paid in the midst of all this government ridiculousness just makes me more angry and sad. Many, many things can be closed for a while or delayed- your troops don't have that option. If they stopped working temporarily along with the museums and, yes, your trash pickup, we would all be in major trouble.

I would hate to think our men were lost and injured in vain.

Cool!

2011-04-07T10:35:00.002-05:00

I really wish I could embed these two videos but the kid's parents disabled that option, so you'll have to take the extra mouse clicks to see for yourself. This three year old has a gift for memorizing poetry worth five minutes of your time to see :)

Litany is an impressive recitation. Walking Across the Atlantic is shorter but as heartfelt as a three year old can muster.

Oh right! The blog!

2011-04-06T16:36:00.002-05:00

Things have been busy. Well, not exactly busy- more like drugged and painful, but I'm beginning to emerge. Rehab is hard and painful, but we're making progress. I say "we" because I don't know how in the world I'd be able to do this without Peleke. I didn't think I could possibly be more proud of him and love him any more, but then he goes and takes care of me like he has been! I'm a lucky, lucky girl :)

Unfortunately for this blog, I don't really have much to say that doesn't center on my leg or cabin fever at this point. Mostly my mind has been pretty blank and sleepy. Here are some pictures to tide you over:

In a nutshell

2011-03-27T16:16:00.004-05:00

I realized for the sake of this particular blog (and not the readers of the other blog who want to know more medical details), I could really pare things down for simplicity's sake. The surgery on Monday did six things:

1. rotated the top of my femur outwards

2. rotated the top of my tibia inwards

3. sliced off the top front of my tibia (where the kneecap tendon attaches) and moved it away from the body midline

4. reconnected the outside part of my kneecap to the outside portion of the quad muscle (via tendon grafting). Actually, functionally you can't attach it to the muscle because it will tear. The other side of the tendon graft was attached directly to the end of my femur. I think.

5. tightened (read: shrinkwrapped) the inner part of my quad muscle to strengthen it

6. cut open the fascia 2/3 of the way down my shin (fascia is like a sausage casing if the muscle bundle was the sausage)

Numbers 1 and 2 should have been done to begin with.

Numbers 3 and 4 were reversals of previous surgeries.

Number 5 was a repeat.

Number 6 should have been done at one point but wasn't (unfortunately at a steep cost).

Ready, set, go!

2011-03-20T19:54:00.003-05:00

Well we're finally here, Mom and me, that is. Cross your fingers that everything goes as planned tomorrow so that I wake up to both my mom and Peleke at my bedside! I'll write more about getting here later. I'm sure I'll have all sorts of free time :p

So tomorrow is the big day! I'll get there at 6am and the surgery is scheduled for 8.

Yeah, I'm really nervous.

2011-03-19T18:38:00.001-05:00

Just over ten hours of driving and arriving to temps of 87. Too wiped to walk, time to hit the sack...

Harumph.

2011-03-16T21:31:00.003-05:00

I think the stress is really getting to me. I'm climbing the walls right now, but I don't want to keep popping advil and tylenol to do anything. Arg. And the dogs... I seriously dislike our dogs right now. I'm not sure if they're acting out because Peleke is gone and I'm stressed or if it's just my perception. Probably the latter.

As far as the surgery goes, I don't think there's much more I can do at this point. Making some meals to freeze for when we get back and getting the house in order. I find myself constantly thinking and worrying about it, and I have to keep reminding myself that I've already made my decision after researching it until my brain was oozing out my ears. Still. I'm under no illusion that it will be easy or even remotely pain-free. The thought of bending my whole leg within an hour or two of finishing surgery and then riding a stationary bike within the week makes me feel a little queasy.

It will be worth it. I'll be fine. This summer will be great. It will be worth it. I'll be fine. This summer will be great. It will be worth it. I'll be fine. This summer will be great.

ad nauseum.

Not what I expected

2011-03-16T11:07:00.005-05:00

So I'm currently stretched out between two chairs in our back yard. Late morning is the perfect time to be back here because the sun isn't at its hottest, when its then thankfully hidden behind the mini forest we have beyond the fence. The little birds are chirping, the squirrels are doing their best to drive the dogs insane, and as usual, the birds of prey are soaring on the thermals above our neighborhood. Actually, maybe they're just vultures. Whatever kind of bird they are, they're pretty to watch flying overhead. Also, they're known within the neighborhood to swoop into yards and grab up the neighborhood snakes. Given the two cotton mouths we've killed in our yard this past year, it's just another reason why those big black birds circling overhead don't creep me out anymore :)

Anyway, what made me think to drag the computer out into this peaceful oasis and write is this: our elderly neighbors on the other side of the fence had been enjoying the peace as well and quietly murmuring until about five minutes ago when Michael Jackson's "Just beat it" came on loudly, clearly out of their sound system. Totally weird.

Neither here nor there

2011-03-15T20:02:00.002-05:00

So we're back into a routine here... but not for long! I'll drop the beasts off on Saturday and start trucking over to Texas. I'm sure the trip there will be better than last week's trip back- really anything would be better than that crummy finish. I locked myself out at 1:30 in the morning after a ten and a half hour drive. I had to sleep in my car. In the driveway. In the 42 degree night. Now I know, it's not COLD compared to where most of you guys are, however, sleeping in your car when it's 42 degrees out is cold no matter how you cut it. Yes, it is.

Anyway, mostly just managing pain and taking care of the dogs at this point. I think I'm ready to go. Oh, and of course the day after I mention what a luddite I am, I went out and bought a smart phone. * sigh *

Hear me out, though. I got the GarminFone for the GPS (that doesn't require using a data package). Of course, you have to get a data package anyway with a smart phone, but beyond email, don't expect me to be tap-tap-tapping away on my phone. It still kind of scares me. I do like the ability to be an mp3 player, GPS, and camera/video, though!

Oh and completely unrelated to anything I've driveled on about is this: I am totally going to be the old woman who dies of aspiration pneumonia. In fact, I might be the young woman who dies from it. Seriously, I have a major drinking problem. I can't tell if it's related to my non-existant proprioception, lack of situational awareness (that yes, I'm causing as I lift my glass to my lips), or, I don't know, some pathophysiology. Whatever it is, I've aspirated Plax, water, and goldfish crackers in the past two weeks alone. Let the record state, Plax is awful to inhale.

Here fishy fishy!

2011-03-12T13:49:00.006-06:00

So Beast One woke me up today barking by the bed. Beast two was jumping on me. It was 7:15am. No rest for the weary, I suppose. I feel much more rested, though, so all's well.

We went to the beach so that they could swim off some energy. It was fun:

Joey learned to "snorkel" when the little fish caught his attention. He did this for about 20 minutes nonstop!

Just as they were beginning to get tired, I saw both of them watching something out in the channel. At first I was concerned that Beast One was going to swim out to check it out, but in the end the ball won her attention. After watching another minute, I realized they were dolphins! There were four of them playing and swimming after the boats! Sadly I only have my little phone camera (and I like living in the phone stone age, thank you very much! No smart phones for me!):

They might be hard to see with these pictures, but I promise they are there :)

The waiting game

2011-03-09T17:03:00.002-06:00

Still waiting for the authorization so I can do the pre-op stuff and go home...

*sigh*

As nurses, when somebody mentions the "q word," they are looked upon as having put a curse of the plague upon the unit. I think sometimes the "w word" is the patient's version of that. Heh, patient... wait....

What. You know it's funny.

Quick update

2011-03-08T23:43:00.002-06:00

Ok, I'll call today another success, though admittedly I'm a little disappointment. I'd gotten myself all psyched up for surgery within the week because if I didn't, I'd probably wuss out. Then for completely valid logistical and practical reasons, today they settled the date for March 21st. Two weeks. The day Peleke gets home.

Arg. It wasn't an easy decision, but like Peleke said, there will never be a good time. If I wait for his next deployment (whenever that may be), I'd be as-is probably throughout the summer. If I get this done on the 21st, there's a good chance I'll actually be mobile and able to enjoy playing. I'm sad that it will extend our time apart by another week or so, though. We don't really want to burn his leave to come sit around in the sticks with me while I'm getting hacked apart, put back together, and recovering, but I sure would love to at least have him the day of the surgery plus another day or two, you know? Oh well. There's never really going to be an ideal time.

I learned a few more details today about the surgery that I won't bore you with, but a few things I will mention. First, when I asked how long I'd be under anesthesia, he said about six hours. That's a loooong time to be under, but I feel better knowing that he does epidurals so that the level of anesthesia doesn't have to be as deep (plus excellent pain management for the immediate post op period). I'll stay in the hospital two to three days before staying at the hotel for maybe a week after.

But man, oh man, when that epidural is out and I'm on oral pain management! Eesh. To his credit, Dr. Texas is nothing if not honest. And both he and Nurse Texas have reiterated that this is a very big surgery involving a lot of pain. It's not that they're stingy with the dope (in fact, his nurse told me some nurses think they use maybe a bit too much while in the hospital). Broken bones HURT. It's difficult to pin down that balance of pain management that allows meaningful rehab. The realistic expectation is to control the pain enough so that I can start the rigorous rehab program within hours of surgery. They call them "cannonball exercises." Aptly named, I suspect, because that's how you have to approach it- "break all my bones, rotate, plate, screw, and graft? No worries- watch me completely flex and straighten my whole leg while I'm practically still waking up from anesthesia!" Double eesh.

Monday

2011-03-07T18:20:00.003-06:00

Ok, so I'll consider today a win. Dr. Texas's office made an obvious effort to fit me in and expedite required tests and contacted the necessary people in order to make sure this trip out is worthwhile. I really appreciate it and would thus far recommend him. A had a few more x-rays (eesh, I'm going to be glowing by the time I'm 60) and a helpful introduction to Dr. Texas and his staff.

As an aside, I get a little worried with each xray and CT scan as I get older (and it's not just being a radiation-phobe as a nurse). It adds up. Tests are helpful and sometimes essential, but it's still radiation. Radiation is not benign. So for whatever it's worth, please keep this in mind people. Always push the envelope to see if you can go by scans you already have and wear the heavy apron/thyroid cover. Yes, I know there are types of exposures higher than xrays in daily life, but CT scans are still quite high in radiation (anywhere from 30 to 440 times the radiation of a simple xray). Why would you bother to put on sunscreen if you don't bother to ask if you can reasonably pass on medical radiation?

But Dr. Texas has been good about minimizing exposure. About him- I like him! His personality is a particular kind that I struggle with. Not in a bad way, I just struggle with the interactions because they feel awkward and stilted on my part. It's one where you let him do his thing and talk while you keep your questions until he's done. Then he's great about addressing them. He's thorough, intelligent, and clearly dedicated to his patients. I'll take it. "It" being the four part surgery I mentioned in the previous post. It's always comforting when two people do separate exams and come to the same conclusion. Gotta say, it's a first for my knees.

So I think I'll find out tomorrow for sure, but it sounds like they'll probably straighten me out on Monday. Monday at the earliest, anyway. As long as the dogs aren't causing problems with anybody and I can keep costs to a minimum while I'm away, Peleke and I have agreed it's ok. Thank goodness for Southwest Airline's free ticket exchange- my mom doesn't have to come down and kill time with me (until I'm chopped all apart anyway)! So here's to hoping it's on Monday.

I wanted to travel down to see my sister, but the nurse put the kibosh on that since she's getting over the hump of one of those lovely bugs her students feel so compelled to share. The last thing I want is to have to cancel for a stupid virus. So for the next few days, I'll be barricaded in a room somewhere nearby slathered in alcohol sanitizer and drinking orange juice like nobody's business. Anybody got a wii and want to play Mario Kart with me online this week?

Unrelated, I'd like to put this out for people to see. Mercy Ships was doing a screening in Freetown, Sierra Leone (where they go through hundreds of people to pick out ones they can most likely help) when the crowd got out of control and stormed the gates of the stadium. It's heartbreaking because we wish we could help each and every person, but of course it's not possible. How humbling for hundreds of people to have such faith and trust in Mercy Ships that they were so desperate to get in. But how tragic that people were injured and one person even killed. It brings home the reality of their desperation. Please pray for the ship's crew and people of Sierra Leone.

Here we go

2011-03-04T18:11:00.008-06:00

So I guess for the next little bit, this may turn into a bit of an update blog. If this pans out, I don't think I'll be up for much communication for a bit, so I'll update here as I can. I guess for the record and people who don't know, here's the scoop:

I had the four left knee surgeries (to say nothing of the right) after patellofemoral pain started when I was fourteen. The last was eight years ago and provided moderate relief but since November my whole leg has gone rapidly downhill (fibular dislocation/subluxation, kneecap subluxation, and pain. Everywhere.). Saw the guru doc of treatment for these things up in Michigan this past week. I like him a lot as a physician, which is why I'm willing to go with the freakish, barbaric-sounding surgery he proposed (though for the record, it's not an exceedingly rare procedure and I'm his norm).

However, he can't do it until April of two thousand twelve. Yeah, next year. I guess that's what happens when you're the top of your specialty and pushing seventy years old and choose to do surgery once a week. Gack. So I'm going with who he (and many other people) recommend in Texas. I called Dr. Texas upon arrival back home on Wednesday, hoping he could get me in within six months. Instead they said they could probably get me into surgery in six days.

So basic anatomy. Both your femur (thigh bone) and tibia (shin bone) naturally have some rotation. This allows your hips, knees, and ankles to work in alignment as your leg naturally swings out and in during the course of walking. It's not unusual or even considered abnormal for babies to be born with their bones all twisted excessively- they need to be able to flex in utero. For the most part they outgrow it by age four, but some of us don't. If you're really all that interested, there's a more detailed description here.

We "twisted" folks have been diagnosed with any number of bucket diagnoses, which means to say they don't really know what's causing the patellofemoral pain. My favorite diagnosis (I kid you not) is "miserable malalignment." I think it's particularly descriptive. But there are at least fifty-six variables identified as contributing to patellofemoral pain. Rotational deformities are common causes, though most people have multiple things wrong. You can read about femoral torsion and tibial torsion here.

Me, I have excessive femoral anteversion and external tibial torsion. Several procedures done in the previous surgeries inadvertently made the knee structurally worse (and therefore now unstable and painful). At the time, mostly it was a case of the orthopedic surgeons not widely understanding the problem, how to assess it, and obviously then how to fix it. In order to fix my leg now, it requires undoing those previous alterations and then doing what should have been done in the first place. Said plainly, the seven hour surgery proposed by Dr. Michigan has four major parts:

1. Femoral derotational osteotomy

2. Tibial derotational osteotomy

3. Tibial Tubercle Transfer (TTT) to undo the first one

4. Reverse lateral release (requiring a graft)

Ugg. We'll see what Dr. Texas says. I'm assuming he'll come to the same conclusion (at least, over the phone he said that sounds about right), but I won't know for certain until Monday. I also won't know until Monday for certain if he can do the surgery on Wednesday. Something about making sure the necessary hardware and possible donor tendon grafts are available.

Why yes, I am freaked out. More to come I'm sure.

Punch buggy periwinkle!

2011-02-14T18:17:00.003-06:00

I don't know what it is about this area, but there are a ton of VW Bugs! At one point there were two in our neighborhood- one of which was that awesome periwinkle color (yes Peleke, periwinkle is so a color! Periwinkle, periwinkle, periwinkle!). I go back and forth on my favorite color for the modern Bugs- periwinkle or that pretty melon orangey color. For the classic ones, though, it's green all the way.

My point, though, is that I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person who sees a Bug and instinctively balls up my fist and looks around for a sucker's arm to punch, right? In a span of less than five miles, I saw five of them! If I were a kid, I'd have been jumping up and down in my seat (provided I spotted them first). I found myself wishing Peleke was in the car with me so I could get his arm.

We've actually gotten out of and into the car debating whether or not we can punch over the same Bug that was there when we went into a building. I wonder what people think when they hear us talking about when it's fair to punch each other. Or worse yet, if we're trying to even out the punches right there in the parking lot...

Well of course the picture of the Fremont Troll with his captured Bug had to be posted! Also, hey, here's a rule book (sort of)!

On a somewhat related note, I learned about the whole passing over a cattle grate thing out in Arizona during college ("down-down-up-up-down-up-down" followed by a free for all punching. Nobody really bothered to determine who finished first.). Does anybody else still do this this?

Maaaaaan!

2011-02-10T20:26:00.003-06:00

I'm getting a little concerned that two searches of my car have thus far proven futile. I lost a stick of gum. Not just any gum, mind you, but gum that I was trying to throw out the passenger side window. I should know better by now. I mean, at best my average is 50/50 for actually getting chewed gum out the window. Up until now it's only splatted onto the window. Given the frequency that I chew gum (low), I never worry too much and bother to practice or whatever.

(I'm actually not a disgusting slob. My car windows and interior are not all nasty up with old gum. Doggy nose prints, yes, nasty gum, no. Things like this just happen sometimes)

Which leads me to this situation. It's cold enough now that it's not a problem, but once the summer hits- Man, I can't even let myself think about it. Where could it possibly have gone??

Sometimes I marvel that I'm even able to stand and walk upright... then again, sometimes I can't even do that.

Addendum: I found it.

Biology lesson for the week: My favorite flower (that's actually a weed)

2011-02-09T08:00:00.003-06:00

Fireweed gets its name because of how earnestly it colonizes land after a forest fire. It's also being used to reestablish vegetation on sites that have been disturbed by oil spills! Basically all it needs to grow and flower is lots of space and lots of light. When other plants begin to grow in the burned land, fireweed can't compete and becomes much less abundant. But it's a scrappy plant- seeds can remain in the soil for years... and germinate after another fire wipes out the plants again! When this happens, dense "stands" of plant grow, covering the field with the tall, bright pink plants (though it can also be white). It can grow up to eight feet tall!

Fireweed is a perennial plant, meaning that it lives for more than two years, native to the temperate Northern Hemisphere. As a perennial in a temperate climate, it grows during the growing season and is dormant and loses its foliage during the winter ("seasonality" can mean warm and cold periods or wet and dry periods). This qualifies fireweed as a deciduous perennial. So, fireweed blooms during growing season (last frost to first frost) and that varies on your location. According to The Old Farmer's Almanac, Seattle's growing season is 232 days long. Therefore, for the immediate Seattle area, fireweed's growing season is March 24th to November 11th.

Fireweed is the floral emblem of the Yukon.

The link to this phograph on the web is here.

The link to this photograph on the web is here.

Collide

2011-02-08T21:47:00.001-06:00

This evening I had one of those rare moments where everything is timed just right to create an experience that's simple and beautiful.

Today was absolutely gorgeous with temps in the fifties and a clear blue sky. I had just tossed off a load of wood at the recycling center on base and the western sky was a pretty pink and yellow. I was waiting near the flight line to turn onto one of the two roads leading off the base and had just seen a Chinook, some sort of smaller helicopter, and a few other various aircraft common to our area. It was nearing five so traffic was at peak, everybody anxious to funnel through two lanes.

Just as a break in traffic opened up and I shifted into first, I heard the music over The Paperboys. Three times daily (morning, end of the work day, and evening), music is piped loudly through speakers mounted on high posts. The five o'clock song is always The Star Spangled Banner. The entire base comes to a standstill for the duration- vehicles pull over and people stand still either saluting or with hands over their hearts*.

I sat there with my window down enjoying the breeze and national anthem as the world was held in suspended animation. Almost directly overhead, my husband's plane flew low on its approach to landing, silhouetted by the pretty evening sky.

A short minute or two later, cars and trucks merged back onto the road to continue their slow crawl to the gates. I joined them and headed home too.

*I had the unfortunate experience last winter when it was really cold and windy out and my bladder was about to burst, but I had to stand shivering and crossing my legs until it was over and I could finish the run to the commissary. Not fun.

Mud and kisses

2011-02-07T19:22:00.003-06:00

So as this picture indicates, we've had rain lately. I mean, the dogs are running through a deep puddle in an area that's usually dry as a bone. I was a little surprised to realize upon moving from Seattle to the beach that I miss the rain. I really enjoyed the mild, rainy Pacific Northwest. I like bright, sunny days as much as the next person, but I guess I don't need them as much as I once thought.

So anyway, yeah, all this rain lately has made me pretty happy. There is one problem, though. Actually, make that two, the first being muddy dogs and the second being my old achy bones. Seriously, it's kind of embarrassing. First my wrist and forearm where I broke it starts aching. Then an hour later my bad(er) leg hits me like a mac truck. I'm down for the count from the pain and drugs for at least one day (but usually more like three).

As the dogs were out swimming in the puddle this morning, I noticed the telltale ache. No surprise, I guess, given another weather system coming through. An older gentleman who broke his hip did his usual circuit of the dog park in the car while his little dog bounded alongside. It started me thinking about our church here.

Now, let me first say that I've really come around to our church and enjoy it a lot. The problem I've encountered is that sometimes it's kind of a hard "sell" to other people. The demographics have changed even since we've been here, but the congregation is still largely a middle aged and older crowd. A large group is at a completely different stage in life that is more difficult for the fewer number of 20 and 30 somethings to find common ground. But I love them to pieces, and it's a nice change to be in a church that has more older folks. However, it does change the church experience. Our fellowship interactions are kind of like ones that you have with your own grandparents.

I particularly like the back row of older gentlemen with their sound amplifying headsets. The things look like stethoscopes with something the size of a walkman at the end instead of a bell. It cracks me up. Other aiding devices are found here and there.

I have it on good authority that not too long before Peleke and I came along, sometimes it was a little difficult to hear the pastor speak over the many rhythmically puffing portable oxygen machines scattered throughout the sanctuary. That thought still makes me giggle.

I love that we get lots of hugs, kisses, and even sometimes what I think is pride in us. But, oh man, poor Peleke got a big surprise yesterday! One of the oldest ladies, affectionately known as Granny, loves to go around and give big smooches and hugs. I usually walk away with bright lipstick marks on my cheek that Peleke laughingly rubs off for me. She got ahold of him this Sunday, though, and landed a big fat kiss on his lips. It was really sweet and funny, but I don't think either of us was expecting it. As you may have guessed, he came away with red lipstick left on his lips. I couldn't stop giggling during the service for about half an hour.

Biology lesson for the week: Pink snow

2011-02-01T08:00:00.002-06:00

Up in Whistler with a friend a few years ago, we didn't know what the pink snow was all about. All I knew was that I'd been warned not to eat yellow or pink snow because I think it causes diarrhea (which the literature seems to support). Researching it was kind of interesting!

Pink snow, sometimes called "watermelon snow," happens during the early spring and summer months where there is still snowpack. It's a phenomenon dating way back in recorded history. In fact, Aristotle mentioned it in some of his writings! I'm not sure why it took so long to identify the cause of it, but at the end of the nineteenth century, the mystery was solved- pink snow comes from microscopic algae. More than sixty different species of snow algae have been identified in the western US mountain ranges, but Chlamydomonas nivalis is responsible for the pink snow. (ironically, it's a member of the green algae Division). Because it's an algae, it has chlorophyll, but C. nivalis also has a carotenoid pigment that gives it the red color. The carotenoid pigment is similar to the ones in tomatoes, red peppers, colorful flowers, seafood exoskeletons, corals, egg yolks, fish/amphibian skin, and fall leaves. They can also be orange, yellow, or yellow-green.

C. nivalis (nivalis means "snow" in Latin) is thought to go dormant when covered by deep layers of snow and then germinate when meltwater brings down nutrients, but scientists aren't exactly sure how the germinated cells then release smaller green cells that flagellate to the surface of the snow to turn pink. Sometimes you see depressions in the snowbanks that are especially red; these are called "sun cups." The red pigmentation absorbs heat, causing the snow to melt faster and cause the depression.

Picture credit here.

Word to the wise inquiring minds: this search brought up some questionable sites!

Special thanks:

Wayne's Word

An Ode. Fin.

2011-01-31T08:00:00.002-06:00

I guess I needed to clarify for some people. This is part three. Part one and two are from a while back. And so without further ado, here you go:

Oh sprinkle cookie, my heart's delight,

This life is tough, it isn't right!

Thousands of miles through this rainy night

Would be my trip for just one bite!

We've had our challenges, yes, it's true,

But through nights and days, we made it through.

I thought of you during the switcheroo

Moving hospital jobs because this I knew:

Whenever I'd go, wherever I went,

You'd always appear, oh heaven sent!

You knew how I loved you, you knew what it meant

To see you at mealtime, oh dreamy time spent!

Now your rich taste I'm craving

(I'm sitting here raving!),

But, injustice of all, I'm calorie saving.

Help me dear cookie- keep me from caving!

Yearning and craving and needing so much,

I'd felt we might be unhealthy as such.

Perhaps over the top or crazy a touch-

It must be unhealthy, this way that I clutch!

So cookie dear, it's important you know

It's not your fault, I'm feeling so-

I love you from your sprinkles to dough

But I love too much, I must let you go!

I'm begging you now, though it kills me to say,

Please stay over there, don't come my way!

2011-01-30T08:00:00.002-06:00

I posted something on Facebook the other day that I had come across from a reputable source:

‎"God who gave us life gave us liberty. Can the liberties of a nation be secure when we have removed a conviction that these liberties are the gift of God? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just, that his justice cannot sleep forever."

~Thomas Jefferson (letter to George Washington, 1/4/1786)

I freely admit that I didn't think to research it for accuracy. When a friend pointed out that the three statements were said at three different times in three different contexts, I wanted to do some more research. I discovered that's how it's written on the third panel of the Jefferson Memorial. Actually, here is the full quotation:

"God who gave us life gave us liberty. Can the liberties of a nation be secure when we have removed a conviction that these liberties are the gift of God? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just, that his justice cannot sleep forever. Commerce between master and slave is despotism. Nothing is more certainly written in the book of fate than that these people are to be free. Establish a law for educating the common people. This it is the business of the state and on a general plan."

Taken in whole, it's actually a product of six different writings of Jefferson. Just because it's literally written in stone is not reason to believe that Jefferson purposely concocted his point as such. In my personal opinion, in the interest of clarity, the memorial should have left each statement as a stand alone to let the reader come to the same conclusion. Here are the five statements, all in regards to slavery:

"But let them [members of the parliament of Great Britain] not think to exclude us from going to other markets, to dispose of those commodities which they cannot use, nor to supply those wants which they cannot supply. Still less let it be proposed that our properties within our own territories shall be taxed or regulated by any power on earth but our own. The god who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time: the hand of force may destroy, but cannot disjoin them."

- "A Summary View of the Rights of British America"

"For in a warm climate, no man will labour for himself who can make another labour for him. This is so true, that of the proprietors of slaves a very small proportion indeed are ever seen to labor. And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis,a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the gift of God? That they are not to be violated but with his wrath? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just: that his justice cannot sleep for ever . . . ."

- Notes on the State of Virginia, Query XVIII

"The whole commerce between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boisterous passions, the most unremitting despotism on the one part, and degrading submissions on the other. Our children see this, and learn to imitate it. . . ."

- Notes on the State of Virginia, Query XVIII

"Nothing is more certainly written in the book of fate than that these people are to be free. Nor is it less certain that the two races, equally free, cannot live in the same government. Nature, habit, opinion has drawn indelible lines of distinction between them."

- Jefferson's Autobiography

"Preach, my dear sir, a crusade against ignorance; establish & improve the law for educating the common people."

- Jefferson to George Wythe, August 13, 1786

"It is an axiom in my mind that our liberty can never be safe but in the hands of the people themselves, and that too of the people with a certain degree of instruction.This it is the business of the state to effect, and on a general plan."

- Jefferson to George Washington, January 4, 1786

For what it's worth, though, I think the summation of those sentiments of Jefferson is correct, both in regards to slavery and being a Christian nation. I do believe the liberties outlined in Jefferson's "inalienable rights," rights we've adopted as a country, are inherent ones given by God. As a nation building upon those, I think we'd do well to remember that. There are many times that I have to trust that God is just in the end so that I can lay aside what I feel is rightful retribution on my side. This however, is one time that I don't want to trust in His justice because I know some of my part in our nation- be it action or complacency.

Along the lines of our personal responsibility in America (beyond taxes, voting, and adhering to the law), I think Stanley McChrystal writes an excellent article in Why America Needs National Service.

So the question becomes, faced with either/both motivating forces, what are you and I doing or not doing as citizens of the USA?

In the works (for real)

2011-01-29T14:01:00.003-06:00

So to keep me honest (I've been promising the third and final installment for years), I promise that I'm working on it and it's nearly here.

What am I talking about? I'm talking about the final part of Ode One and Ode Two.

I know, the suspense is killing you...

Kicking off the weekend

2011-01-28T14:27:00.002-06:00

It's a warm, sunny day here in Florida. As I was running errands with the car windows down, I pulled up next to a truck at a light. Judging from his license plate, license frame, and bumper stickers, it appears that we have an Alaskan Steelers fan who plays in the local rugby club.

I'll bet he's having a GREAT day.

Investing

2011-01-27T18:57:00.003-06:00

So we're trying to eat healthier these days. Not like we were eating too badly before, but apparently it's not as easy to lose weight in your late 20's and early 30's. Meaning, you can't just skip a piece of cake here and a greasy lunch there and then just sit back and watch the pounds roll off. Nope, no more batches of cookie dough or frosting anymore (oh yes we did!). All the little indiscretionary snacks add up. We've both noticed it, and now is the time to stop it before it snowballs. I've been a grazer for a long time, and I'm finding it harder to change the food we graze off of, though, than to change actual meals. Fortunately, I usually graze on nuts and dried fruit.

I know little about nutrition and even less about cooking. Anyone reading this who knows me at all is currently snorting whatever they were drinking out their noses because, um, do I even know a single thing about cooking? Actually, I'm proud to say yes. I know three things!

1. How to cook a chicken.

2. How to cook a potato.

3. How to boil water for hard boiled eggs.

Hey, those do too count! Besides, I might know one or two more things. Like how to use the microwave and toaster.

But back to my point. I've decided that I'll focus on the meals first, because that's something I have control over. When it comes to snacking, we're on our own. Whatever he eats at work is his business. Whatever I eat when he's gone is mine. At least I can say that we're eating healthy at dinner (and usually breakfast). To that end, one of the things we've been doing is eating a lot of quinoa. Seriously good stuff people! Gluten-free, wheat-free, low in sodium, and lots of protein! And it's versatile- you can use it as a pasta or as more of a grain dish.

But I got to thinking today when I went to pick up the quinoa pasta today. I wondered why more people aren't flocking to it. I mean, it tastes virtually the same as traditional pasta (in my opinion) and is easy to get. A quick price comparison revealed why, I think. It's not expensive by any stretch (at least at the commissary), but it's still more expensive than regular pasta and not sold in the same area. Sneaky.

That made me think a little bit more about something I constantly see in my life. Namely, I'd rather spend cheaper now regardless of the future. Often, I think that's good because I don't usually need the latest and greatest. With food, though, I don't feel quite the same. Yes, I feel a bit reluctant to buy organic and the sometimes more expensive alternatives, but when chosen for the right reasons (you know, not all "Organic! Woohoo!"), in the end I think we'll benefit. All it takes is one gander around a cardiac ICU to see that boy, do we ever pay for our choices!

Admittedly, I think genetics plays a large part in overall health, but there's no denying the role of lifestyle either. I have to keep reminding myself of this as I spend twice the amount of time I would normally spend grocery shopping so that I'm checking labels, finding alternatives, and comparing prices. It's scary how much high fructose corn syrup is in our foods! It's everywhere! No wonder 30% of the general population is showing up with non-alcoholic fatty liver. Yikes! I also have to remind myself that the amount of money I'm spending over the cheapest alternative is still a good investment. After all, I'd rather spend the money on healthier food now than spend it all in one fell swoop on an ER visit and subsequent admission for some aspect of heart disease down the road.

And, well, that's it. I guess I just wanted to put this thought out there to see if anyone wants to add to it. Just another idea that's been bouncing around this brain today.

What do we really know?

2011-01-22T12:17:00.006-06:00

As health care providers, we generally only acknowledge begrudgingly (and often only when forced into a corner) that, well, no, we don't actually know much about the human body. Sure, we certainly do know a lot. You need look no further than your local clinic, let alone a top tier hospital, to see that. We can squabble about the animosity between eastern and western medicine, but my point remains the same- we know a heck of a lot (and suspect even more) and yet in the scheme of the whole, intricate human body, we know little. But you work with what you have, right? And you make judicious decisions.

Having embarked on a medical journey at fourteen years old in an area notoriously murky, I'm reaping the results of the decisions now. Having had pain of relatively rapid onset but with no focal areas of interest, I joined the swelling ranks of young women with "patellofemoral syndrome." Call it what you will (and boy do they have a range of terms for the same problem!), it's painful and often debilitating.

At the time, I was given treatment that was considered standard. Nevermind that it wasn't an ideal treatment. It gave me a reduction in pain and for that, I took it. I think I'd still take it then knowing what I know now, though maybe with a few minor changes. Fast forward twenty-six years and here I am with not only a rapidly failing knee, but also now the leg. And I'm not alone. See, the standard of treatment, indeed pretty much the only treatment for the term "patellofemoral syndrome" (and all of it's equivalent meanings) was a bit of a blind shot. Considering that the diagnosis itself was, to reference a top specialist, "an admission of ignorance," it's no surprise really.

The handful of treatments we had in our arsenal didn't account for the now-known fifty-six variables in the blanket term of patellofemoral syndrome. It's not that we were ignoring them, it's that we just didn't know they existed. Even now, we can't objectively and reproducibly measure them. We just know that they often coexist with groups of friends (some larger than others) to create the problem. And so now we see folks like me with resultant hip, ankle, and back problems, besides the obvious knee problems, often presenting in a different manner than before.

I know, it's bittersweet news for many of us- validating yet discouraging. It's one thing to not know what you don't know. It's another to know you don't know something yet be at a loss to incorporate it into a working body of knowledge. We find ourselves in positions not too unlike the ones we were in fifteen, twenty, thirty years ago: where do we go from here? There will always be ideas and surgeries of the moment, but it's another gamble because surgery changes the body in ways we don't fully understand (for better and sometimes also for worse). Sometimes it takes weeks to see this and sometimes this takes years. I fit in nicely with a substantial minority of people in the latter group.

Nobody wants to be a guinea pig or take the "best available" treatment when we know there's still a long way to go for the ideal treatment. But for the moment what we have is the ideal treatment. How long do you hold out for a better treatment? Where is the quality versus quantity tipping point? In your quiet, reflective moments, what are you willing to risk?

One of the things that intrigues me about surgical consent is the presentation of risks. It's an art, I suppose, to get patients to that point where they understand that while the surgery is a viable option, the risks are real and potentially devastating. But hear this, nobody makes it through life alive and in one piece. Whether you decide on inaction or medical/surgical action, only the patient can determine whether it's worth it. That's not a decision to be taken lightly, whether it's ear tubes, an open heart surgery, or joint reconstruction. It may be an easy decision, and that's ok, but don't forget the real risks, large or small as they may be. I'm standing on my soapbox not as a nurse, but as a patient having willingly accepted the risks and reevaluating yet again undertaking another risk.

So yeah, I'm not regretting what I did, seven surgeries later, but I am still disappointed that this ordeal isn't over. It may never be over, and that's a peculiar kind of grief I have mostly come to terms with. Realistic expectations are having to be reestablished.

For those of you personally interested, the pain is wearing on me, but I can't express the relief I feel knowing that new advances have been made and that my situation is probably salvageable. I'm encouraged to hear that more reliable testing methods are coming around that will help clarify my problem. I'll be doing those the first part of March, and hopefully that will elucidate a viable treatment option. Whether it's newer treatments involving chopping up my bones eight ways from Sunday then piecing them back together or something much less extreme, I'm ready to hear it.

The third mile

2011-01-18T07:00:00.000-06:00

I've been a walker/talker for a long time. There's something about ambling along with a friend that makes it easier to talk. Maybe it appeals to my tendency to avoid eye contact. Maybe it's indicative of a kinesthetic learning tendency. Maybe it's simply just less targeted and allows for natural tangents and periods of easy silence.

Some of my favorite memories with girl friends involve walking together. Conversations flow, something I don't feel normally happen with me. I remember early morning walks with friends in college, late night walks in Chicago, and walks all hours of the day and night in Seattle. Early morning walks around campus were calm (except for the odd cockroach scurrying across our paths). Chicago creates rapid punctuations in conversation from things like intersections, interesting shops, and the general frenzy of the city. Seattle was smoother. My favorite places to walk with friends were Alki Beach and Green Lake. Here in Florida, I've found that place. It's a local park where, like Green Lake, one circuit around is one mile. This discovery has been one of the biggest things in finally feeling like I live here.

No matter where I've walked, though, I've noticed a trend. Mile three. There's something about mile three that changes. By that point, we've hit our stride, and any changes in tempo are fairly reliable indicators of changes in the tone of conversation. It happened just about as we'd reach Kiwanis Park in Tempe to do a lap before heading back. It was predictable about the third lap of Green Lake in Seattle or the third lap around local park here in Florida. Not that conversations aren't meaningful prior to that, it just seems that mile three is the point at which we've walked off the catching up and goofing off and then begin to get into the nitty gritty of our lives.

I love the third mile along any footpath, sidewalk, or street. Mile three is one of the main reasons I love walking with friends. Guards go down and people open up more deeply after the first two. There may be more silence than before, but that time is spent watching the world as we walk by together. The birds, even the weather, and the world we walk by becomes something to enjoy and contemplate with more than a passing thought. We share those thoughts more readily and segue into relevant topics.

The problem, however, is that after the third mile is about when we start getting hungry, thirsty, or too cold/hot. We stop to take a break before either going on to the next activity or, more commonly, parting ways. I always feel a little sad about this because I inevitably come away encouraged, uplifted, and lighter. Regardless of who needed to talk and process the most, we both benefit. Even if we had a heavy conversation, the straightforward or oblique sharing of our lives is helpful.

But the conversations have to end. And maybe whether over cold gelato or a promise to get together soon, the limited time isn't really a problem. Maybe one mile's worth of raw conversation is best. Maybe it encourages us to meet and walk more frequently together. Certainly our bodies benefit, and I suspect our minds do too.

Sound and Fury

2011-01-09T20:37:00.001-06:00

I think we can all agree that the last thing the internet needs is another blog adding to the cacophony. As I see it, there are a few general types of them out there- personal (aimed more and friends and family), work related (ie: mediblogs), home related (ie: mommy blogs), rec and leisure related (ie: crafts), and spiritual/religious. I'm sure there's a fair amount of crossover, but I imagine you have to define for yourself what you want your blog to be.

Somewhere in the crossover from single-nurse-with-crazy-dog-in-Seattle to unemployed-married-military-spouse-with-two-high-maintenance-dogs I lost my reasons to blog. The last thing I want to be is Shakespeare's idiot telling the tale of my life full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Our lives, our privileged lives here in the United States, are much too blessed to signify nothing. On the contrary, we're saddled with the burden of gifts. Jesus said, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."

What does this have to do with blogging? For me, it means I want my words to mean something. I want to touch people's hearts, be it through empathy, encouragement, or a call to action. Even uplifting amusement would be worthy of posting, I think. But more importantly, I want my words to reflect action. In Paul's letter to the Corinthians, he says,

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor, and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing."

I don't want to be any of those people, but in the blogging world, the first is most relevant. I don't want to "speak in the tongues of men and angels but have not love." I don't currently have work as a source of inspiration, and I'm not sure how much fodder the dogs will provide (after all, there's not a whole lot redeeming in Beast 1's horrendous haircut and Beast 2's antics). There are, of course, aspects of military life, some volunteer work, and a cause that's growing in importance to me, but is that what people want to hear about? And are my meager attempts at living out God's love and being part of the Church (the living Church of believers) worth writing about? With the gift of more free time than I ever imagined, I know I need to be just as busy as I was with work.

To be brutally honest, my greatest fear, one entirely not of God, might even be that I'm failing at these for all the world to see. That I'll be just another Christian in title only and broadcasting it all for the world to see, to boot.

That's why I'm going to do this. That's why I'm going to blog again. Not as some sort of fear-driven accountability (from the few who even read this), but as an act of faith that God will use me to show himself. I mean, just look at these guys!

Renee

Katie

that family

the Alexanders

These blogs mostly deal with African missions. What about the rest of us here?

Bummer

2010-06-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

"Bummer" I exclaimed as he swept the board. He laughed.

"BIG bummer" he shouted as I swept the board. I laughed.

"What else is a big bummer?" the seven year old asked brightly.

"Falling off the swings," I answered.

Being born into abuse and neglect, I thought.

“Let’s play again on Thursday,” he said skipping off to his foster mother.

Crash

2010-06-04T07:00:00.000-05:00

The yard was littered with balls, bikes, and flowers. Just another military home.

Pardon my mess, she welcomed. An unfamiliar face peeked around the kitchen door.

I brought snacks, I offered.

The boys will love them, thanks. Her face fell and she fought back tears. I looked behind me.

A uniformed man carried the box of belongings to the widow.

Snake

2010-06-03T07:00:00.000-05:00

He stepped off the porch and smoothly hopped back up.

Burr?

A snake. A fat, black water moccasin. Neighbors say kill it with a shovel. There’s only a paint scraper with an extension pole. What can we do? “Aerate the lawn” with some practice throws.

Combat boots, shorts, and perfect aim from atop the deck bench. My husband, my hero.

House

2010-06-02T07:00:00.000-05:00

The first night in our own home. Goodbye Destin.

Dark and quiet. How did you sleep? Like a log.

Me too.

Did you leave the truck unlocked? Stuff is scattered everywhere but nothing appears missing.

Did you see this note on the front door? Bears. They’re getting into trash. Better put the bin in the garage.

Foolish kids. Smart bears.

Age

2010-06-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

My wrist aches to my fingertips. My leg is on fire. My back is a bit tight. It’s six in the morning and the left side of my body is protesting.

You must be awake, he says groggily. Are you sore from the run?

No, I’m sore from life. Is it supposed to storm today?

Actually, yes. Good morning Grandma.

Thrill

2010-05-31T07:00:00.000-05:00

I’m never sure when it ends, I just know when it resumes. Loud, deafening sometimes. Heavy air vibrates. Is it like this during the day but drowned out by us?

Don’t know what they are, but they’re surely communicating. Animal, aviary, or amphibious? Hard to differentiate.

The nightlife stays up until dawn when another shift takes over. I hear ducks.

Calm

2010-05-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

Cutting and slicing with two white porcelain knives. Black handles spattered with orange mangos and yellow pineapples. Cutting board stained red from the strawberry bumper crop. Stackable trays stained green from thirty-three cent kiwis.

Sunshine through the window on cheery yellow walls. Music turns the corner and fills the kitchen with John Denver. A pleasant way to pass the afternoon.

Moving

2010-05-29T07:00:00.000-05:00

Lives, communities, conveniences, routines, vistas, jobs, relationships. Patterns. An intricate body of Christ here with complicated bonds. God is love. God is relational.

Breaking old chemical bonds and creating new ones; chemical reactions. Unusual pharmacokinetics, this bitter pill of grief.

Awkward meet-and-greets, interviews for all sorts of relationships. You begin to put your keys in the same place every time.

Deployment

2010-05-28T03:00:00.000-05:00

Hot tears come in an unwelcome cascade. He looks sad. Another last hug, kiss, and I love you before he walks out the door. I wave but he can’t see through the reflective glass.

I slump into the wall feeling betrayed by myself. Bronze busts and face shots of uniformed men smile from their trophy cases. We’re a proud unit.

2010-05-28T01:13:00.000-05:00

I highly doubt anybody is reading this thing anymore. Dad and I have been writing a lot, and I needed a break from blogging. It might be time to get back in the swing of it, more for my sake than anything. So... here goes.

I've decided to keep my entries to exactly 60 words for the time being. It's a different style than before, but it was time for a change. Why not? Everything else has changed!

Because who doesn't love a fat lipped fish?

2009-12-21T08:00:00.000-06:00

Aside from a restaurant to the west and a shopping area to the south, we're pretty much limited to heading east if we want to go anywhere (besides friends' houses) on foot. There's a route we go that limits time on the main road through town, but it means we sometimes walk behind buildings and their perimeter fences. This past Saturday was beautiful, so we took a stroll down to get some cake (cake!!) and noticed this guy for the first time:

Also, do you know what today is? Happy Winter Solstice! Yes, it does mean the first official day of winter, but more importantly, it means from here on out the days will be getting longer! Hip hip hooray!!

And with that, Peleke and I are headed north again today for the holidays (and to finally pick up The Beast!). Wish us luck in all the snow up there :)

Cookies... continued

2009-12-20T23:21:00.000-06:00

So we finally finished all the baking! Overall, I'd say it was mostly a success, but I'll be happy never to see a tub of crisco again. I also think I'll be laying off the sugar for at least a week! We chose our six favorite decorated cookies for this (blurry) photo:

What? You can't see? Let me show you some close ups. Here we have a nice snowman... standing in a suspiciously yellow puddle:

Above him, his neighbor is plotting the demise of the batch:

To his left, a snowman Cartman wanna-be is further increasing the evil barometer:

Ahh Christmas!

Sunday adventures

2009-12-20T16:14:00.000-06:00

We've been "church shopping" for months now with marginal success. Today we went to the base chapel to see what it had to offer. On the way in, we stopped at a cozy little sitting room type chapel because I was drawn in to a room filled with these:

Stained glass, rainbows, and clear, cool Sundays. Nice. So was the service.

We decided to make Christmas cookies today after church. We made three different kinds with varying degrees of success. The peanutbutter cup cookies were perfect. The molasses sugar cookies have yet to be baked (though we don't know why they have to sit in the fridge for a few hours anyway). The sugar cookies (for frosting decoration) have been the biggest adventure so far. We're pretty sure one cookie will have you drop dead on the spot from a coronary (crisco anyone?). On the upside, the pan didn't need greasing! Unfortunately on one sheet, a snowman took a boot to the head:

I know, it's hard to tell it's a snowman. A number of cookies on the first sheet became amputees. Then a snowman went postal with the gun Peleke made on the next round. Two words: mass carnage.

The trick, apparently, is to take them off the sheet as soon as they come out of the oven. Cookie crumbs anybody? We'll be sure to show you the frosted cookies that make the cut (and maybe watch for us on Cake Wrecks!)

Because who doesn't love the Muppets?

2009-12-19T08:00:00.000-06:00

More good humor

2009-12-18T16:18:00.000-06:00

Advent Conspiracy

2009-12-18T08:00:00.001-06:00

2008:

2009: looks like the message is getting out!

cooking like Paula Deen

2009-12-17T08:00:00.000-06:00

Good thing we're finally home where we can spread out and finally cook our own meals!

Grilled cheese sandwiches count, right? We did actually try to make them in Alabama, but the bread fused to the pan (despite copious amounts of butter), and left us with grilled cheese sandwiches you practically had to eat with a spoon. High class livin'.

By the way, does anybody else find it as amusing as we did that our English muffin bread has, well, a muffin top?

After all, we DO live in the Redneck Riviera!

2009-12-16T08:00:00.000-06:00

Peleke and I laughed so hard we were crying last night at CakeWrecks. We also had a good laugh at FailBlog (of course). I can't even begin to tell you the funniest cake wrecks, but this was my favorite fail:

It reminded me of the display in front of Bass Pro we saw a few weeks ago...

I want a "Poo-dolph" t-shirt in the worst way!

A light rant

2009-12-15T20:00:00.000-06:00

I've always found it difficult to get into the Christmas spirit when it's not cold and snowy. The first time I remember being somewhere warm for Christmas was in California when I was nine years old. We were living on the boat, so this posed two problems- how does Santa get around without snow and how would he get into the boat? Maybe I didn't believe in Santa by that point, but I think the questions are still valid.

Anyway, as I've gotten older and spent more time in warmer climates around the holidays, I've always found it fascinating to see what people decide to decorate. It goes beyond the rooflines, fences, and trees. I think without snow enabling the end goal of a few inches softly lit from below by small colored lights tastefully strung up, the new goal becomes bright! lights! scenery! lookitlookitlookit! I see fire hydrants, mailboxes, cacti, cars, dog houses, and whatever else happens to be near a light socket (though sometimes not even that). And then I guess when they run out of things, people start putting lit up deer, trees, nativities, santas, and various woodland animals. The "snow globe" decorations flabbergast me. So imagine my amusement when out of the heavy fog we've had over the weekend, I looked off the balcony to see this:

Our local water tower has become a victim. I find it funny, actually, because in all the recent fog, it looked like a hovering, alien-green blob.

I admit it, I'm a Christmas light snob. While you probably don't have much pull in the weather department, you do have a lot to do with how your yard is decorated. Tacky or spartan (or not at all, for that matter!), just do it right. None of these trees that have been lit up only around the trunk or look like you just did a Spidey throw and hoped that all the lights would get caught in the branches! And how do you convince yourself that only decorating half of the house (and not necessarily contiguously) is also ok? Splurge and buy one or two more strings of lights so that your entire roofline is lit up (not with alternating colored and white lights either).

Unless you have hemianopsia, all these "let's decorate half" people just don't have a reason. Please, for the love, don't arbitrarily decorate only half of anything with Christmas lights!

My favorite is the conductor

2009-12-15T07:34:00.000-06:00

Somebody has too much free time in Texas!

Shh, don't tell them how much I love sushi!

2009-12-14T16:03:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite medibloggers wrote this short piece worth a read:

The problem with "free" health care.

PSI

2009-12-12T08:00:00.000-06:00

I feel like it needs to be stated (again) for the record: People, by and large, soap is not inherently clean! You have to scrub with it! Soap works by allowing oils to dissolve in water and then be rinsed away. It doesn't actually kill anything by merely coming into contact with it (with the exception of some hospital soaps maybe, but even then you still have to scrub)! So scrubba dub dub!

Go read something.

Rain

2009-12-10T12:02:00.000-06:00

I'm really looking forward to going home tomorrow (even if it's only for a week). We could use the space and breathing room!

Lions and tigers and bears- oh my!

2009-12-10T08:00:00.000-06:00

Meet Shere Khan, Leo, and Baloo. Way cool.

Let there be music!

2009-12-09T08:00:00.000-06:00

I may have an inkling of how the human body works, but Peleke eviscerated my car a few weeks ago so that I can hook up the ipod or computer to the stereo. Awesome!

Crossing Tallapoosa Street

2009-12-08T10:46:00.000-06:00

So long warranty, it was nice knowing you. May the spontaneous combustion of my car begin...

Strange

2009-12-03T08:00:00.000-06:00

On all the buildings around here, there are signs clearly stating we're in FPCON alpha, bravo, or whatever. I figured it was some sort of security designation but couldn't figure out what it stands for. The only CON I know is College of Nursing, and I'm pretty sure that's not what it's saying. Peleke says it means Force Protection Conditions and is indeed telling you what level of security the base is functioning under.

Now I want to know why it's not just FPC or even FPCon.

Makin' stuff up

2009-12-02T08:00:00.000-06:00

While I don't enjoy Christmas music before Thanksgiving (and only incrementally thereafter), it isn't really one of my pet peeves. I can understand why a lot of people feel that way, but I have to admit sneaking in a Christmas song or fifty throughout the year.

I heard the Carol of the Bells on the radio a few days ago and of course it wasn't the original- you don't hear that one on the radio much. But I wonder, what is it about the Carol of the Bells that inspires people to make up and substitute their own lyrics?

Happy December!

2009-12-01T08:00:00.000-06:00

When you give a comfortable breaking distance as you tootle along down the highway behind a car, why do other drivers assume that you are, in fact, inviting them to cut in front of you? And what is it about the sight of that much distance that translates to these other drivers to mean your car is going slower than the other, when in fact you're going just as fast and merely just a safer distance behind?

Having driven waaaaaay to much this past month as we've crisscrossed the Midwest and South (with no slowdown in sight), I feel very qualified to pose these questions. So why?

You know you wanna

2009-11-21T08:00:00.000-06:00

Hobble hobble

2009-11-19T19:00:00.000-06:00

Our kitchenette hasn't done much in the way of encouraging healthy eating habits here, but I think we haven't actually been doing too badly. Last night we lost all control, though, and not only drove out to dinner but drove seven miles away to a Popeye's. In our defense, the base is surrounded by old housing projects and some really suspect "businesses." Seven miles was more of a safety precaution. As for why Popeye's, well, I have no excuse.

But it was good... and I had a leftover butter-saturated biscuit for breakfast. Feeling remorseful, I ran for another hour this afternoon through this (sadly poor picture quality, but hey, it's a cell phone after all):

With this as my soundtrack:

The chicken and biscuits were definitely worth it!

Ouch

2009-11-19T14:00:00.000-06:00

The Beast was hit by a car yesterday evening. She's fine, I promise, but hearing those words were awful. Amazingly enough, she only has some bruises and road rash after full xrays and thorough checks from the parents and vet. My parents say she's been walking around with her tail half mast, but the limp is gone and she even chased after the ball.

Erica said it right. This dog has nine lives! Good Lord, Gazza, haven't we gone through enough??

My mom sent this picture this afternoon. She was watching a train go by.

Distractibility

2009-11-19T08:00:00.000-06:00

So there's a problem at the church we've been visiting back home. Actually, it's my problem, but it's a tough one.

Twice now we've randomly sat a few pews behind a man and his wife. I couldn't tell you what he looks like, but I'd recognize the back of his head a mile away. You see, he has a bald spot exactly the shape of a pair of lungs- complete with the curve on the left side into which the heart fits nicely.

I cannot concentrate on anything else. I keep thinking about how the thinning hairs near the trachea would be like cilia. Help.

Run

2009-11-18T08:00:00.000-06:00

My relationship with running is ambivalent at best. My earliest memories of organized running, if you can call it that, are ones that included feeling sick (and a few cases of throwing up afterwards). Not exactly inspiring. But I still remembered how good it felt to run as a kid- stretching my limbs and moving fast. I figured there was still some merit to it all and periodically got into running clubs or ran with friends. Not surprisingly I was never very good. Then, after seven knee and a minor heart surgery,* I had more reasons not to enjoy running. Quite frankly, I was scared of it by that point.

It's been over the last three years that I've entertained the idea again. Rarely timing myself (heart rate is more important after all), I've tried to set aside my own harsh self-judgements and competition to concentrate on enjoying it. That's right, I want to be one of those smiling runners. So I vigilantly monitor my legs impacting the ground for wobbles and pain. I slow down when my heart rate is uncomfortably high. I refuse to huff and puff so hard that it's no fun. And those are the times that my peripheral vision blurs and I begin to enjoy the ride.

There was a sermon the other day at church about angels. I'd never really heard much about angels in any sort of biblical study before. The pastor talked about how seraphim are actually a class of angels who exist only to praise God. Immediately I thought of how I've imagined hiking with God just walkin' along with a pack beside me and how cool that would be. So to think of wandering around with a herd of angels wasn't that much of a stretch.

As I ran along a pretty stretch of road at home one evening, I imagined them running alongside of me. We were all taking in the stunning sunset over the Gulf of Mexico and pretty white sand beaches. Yesterday evening, they were back again with me on a dirt road through the golf course admiring the pastel sunset** over the hazy woods and settling dusk. A cardinal flashed by, reminding me of Indiana, and a small rabbit hopped along a few feet next to me. It reminded me of desperately trying to pack in the fun on waning summer nights with neighbors. A squirrel seemed to be watching the swollen river run by us, now safely tucked in between its wooded banks (temporary ponds still dot the golf course and threaten the roads after all of the rain, but most of the roads themselves are out from under the flood). Some hawk was calling from the sky. It reminded me of the ones that call out to the canyons in the Southwest.

An hour of running later, transient bilateral knee pain, one heart palpitation, and African dust gritty in my tennis shoes, we sprinted home, thanking God for such a gift.

*An EP study with ablation isn't open heart surgery. In fact, it's a procedure in which you're only moderately sedated and they access your heart through large veins in your groin and neck. However, tell the person lying on the operating table with multiple wires threaded into their beating heart and the possibility of a permanent pacemaker that it's "minor."

** Alabama has no shortage of these. In my opinion, they've been rivaling Arizona's.

Questions that keep me up at night

2009-11-17T14:13:00.000-06:00

What is it about bananas that makes them so difficult to correctly simulate the taste? Conversely, what is it about pears that makes it so easy?

still breathing

2009-11-16T22:00:00.000-06:00

It's the same old thing- when there's nothing big to talk about, you find yourself with lots to say of minimal importance. When things get busy, there's too much to say of note so it ends up coming out like a five year old's rendition: an'nen we did this an'nen we did that an'nen we tried to do somefing an'nen we went to sleep!

So at the risk of being that five year old, here's the skinny:

After enjoying Peleke's early return and quiet time in Michigan, we had two days together back home to enjoy biking, eating sushi, and generally being our socially avoidant selves. In short, it was awesome. Then he took off again for the great state of Alabama, and I joined him here until mid-December.

Alabama isn't as bad as I'd been led to believe. Now, that's not to say it's a thrilling place to be either, but the weather has been mostly pleasant, the base is pretty, and our room is nice. I'm determined not to take those things for granted (dearth of social opportunities and a job notwithstanding). Most of all, it's still really great to be close to Peleke again. Poor guy is swamped between his training and his other schoolwork, but it's only for a few more weeks.

We've been doing a lot of driving with no slowing down in the near future. On the drive up, the speed limit creeping up from 50 mph to 70 mph, I found myself feeling pretty anxious. I realized that while I had driven on Beaver Island and then around home for a week, I haven't driven much and definitely not very fast. The thought of 50 being speedy is comical, I know, but it felt uncomfortably so. I'm still getting reacquainted with my hunk of metal.

As Peleke does homework, I've been doing more driving than usual for our road trips (read: more than ten minutes). He's learned first hand of my aversion to crunching Corn Nuts (only to be used in dire stay-awake situations!) and was a good sport to the Pat Green, Jeff Black, and John Denver ballads streaming steadily from the radio. I know, he's a saint. I won't lie, though-I won't miss all this time in the car.

In other news, I'm finding this place interesting. For the sake of blogging, I've deemed it RAFB (Random Air Force Base). More on it later. Right now I'm going to raid our dorm style fridge and attempt a walk without getting trampled by the random hoards of running airmen in blue and orange that have taken over the campus today...

Beaver Island photo dump: round one

2009-11-12T08:00:00.000-06:00

The week and a half my mom and I spent in Michigan is best told in pictures. Most of you have seen the Facebook link with them, so here are the highlights for those of you who haven't:

mostly nice weather but beginning to get colder and rainier

ironing leaves between wax paper- remember doing that?

making apple sauce

leaves across the lake turning colors

fishing with the hula popper

Gazza wasn't too keen on the dinghy

hiding

in their respective spots

dogpile

There was a lot of sleeping, eating, reading, and puzzle doing going on!

Up to the highest height

2009-11-09T12:10:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was beautiful. The past week has been made up of blue skies, warm days, cool nights, and relatively tourist-free living. I found myself saying, "This isn't so bad after all!" Then Peleke reminded me how miserable the summer was. So while it is that bad in the summer, this time of year ain't half bad!

We went to a church class in the morning with the intention of going to the service afterwards, but I firmly believe even Jesus would have skipped out on church to go play outside on a day like that! Gorgeous. So we packed some water and grapes and went out to the island to fly kites.

As a side note, neither of us had heard anything about Hurricane Ida and were surprised this morning to hear of her impending landfall in our neck of the woods. Oops. At least we're out of the way at the moment! Guess there's something to be said for watching the news and reading the paper...

Calling names

2009-11-05T20:00:00.000-06:00

Growing up on and around sailboats, I was only partly aware of my avoidance of stepping on the seams between the concrete slabs of the dock but very aware of the sense of unease I got from walking on the wood plank edging. They were often slick and the height of the pier to a kid seemed more than it probably was, so walking along the edge of the dock was a small thrill. Lying there was a different story, though. My sister and I spent untold hours on our stomachs with our arms hanging over the sides, scraping our nets along the underwater portions of the docks and dumping the results into a bucket to comb through. In the Northwest or Caribbean, it didn’t matter- the creatures were mysterious and fascinating. We freely shared our finds (crabs, worms, limpits, etc) with random folks on the dock, the sailing community being friendly that way.

One rainy afternoon in some long forgotten port in the Pacific Northwest, my sister and I were walking back to Foggy Mountain, yellow slickers snapped shut and hoods pulled up. Stepping in the coils made by random ropes and hoses, I was surprised to hear somebody call my name. Looking back through fat raindrops at the men busy with something on the dock, one of them waved and said hello to me. Confused, my seven year old mind tried to place him. Did he know my parents? It was likely enough, but no, he denied knowing them. In fact, he asked if I knew why he knew my name at all. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember my sister calling me back to our walk. He smiled and laughed as we turned away. Then he called out to me, “it’s written on the back of your rain slicker!” I remember laughing.

I have no doubt he was just a friendly soul looking to brighten a little girl’s day. Besides, some of our things were labeled growing up- including life jackets and rain slickers. The memory gives me a vague sense of nostalgia for the “good ol’ times” when you could send a kid into the harbor in safety.

Fast forward twenty years.

The longer I work as a nurse, my name and title clearly printed next to my picture, the less often I’m caught off guard by random people addressing me. But sometimes it still does surprise me, a relative stranger directly calling my name. Then the foggy memory of that day hovers on the fringes of my mind- a soft breath of Northwest air in the dry, sterile hospital.

Oh baby!

2009-11-04T21:29:00.000-06:00

Words cannot describe how happy I was to hear that Anicette, one of the cleft palate babies aboard the Africa Mercy, had her surgery. When I saw the pictures, I couldn't help tearing up just a little. In my mind, Hubert and Anicette will forever be linked. They were together in the same ward for a time while I was there and, I'll be honest, I thought if anything that the results would be the other way around. So for both of these babies who faced incredible odds...

Way to go Ani!!

I would give almost anything to pick her up (she's got fat on her now!) and snuggle her fuzzy head.

Oink oink

2009-11-04T19:26:00.000-06:00

I got my flu shot today, figuring my poor immune system is sufficiently regenerated enough to actually respond appropriately. So we'll see. Even though I still sometimes get the flu, I get the regular one each year because I think it's worth the tiny risk inherent with injecting dead things into your body.

I am a little concerned about the flu shot I got today, though. The dude was efficient (I barely felt it) and even pretty funny about the whole thing, but I noticed that he A) didn't aspirate and B) injected my shoulder joint. I suppose inoculating my shoulder is better than straight up injecting flu vaccine into my arterial blood supply, but neither is preferable really.

So if I get the flu, I may be miserable and achy, but I fully expect my shoulder joint to be ache-free!

Next up? Swine flu vaccination tomorrow...

(how swine flu is really spread)

Home again home again!

2009-11-04T10:13:00.001-06:00

Ahhhh, it's nice to be home. Peleke is off again for the week, but it has been great to fall asleep with the full moonlight streaming in the windows and then waking up to sunlight, a cool breeze through the open window, and the birds filling the air with happy songs.

And the distant thud of shells hitting the range. Whatever.

Ticks and tricks

2009-10-29T22:45:00.000-05:00

There are no ticks on Beaver Island. I’m not quite sure I believe it myself yet, but that’s what they say. Before the wedding, I took The Beast to the Indiana Dunes where she acquired seven or so of those horrid tagalongs. If I never have to feel for those telltale lumps again (not to mention find their creepy little bodies on the floor and in my bed), I’ll be happy. So letting her run wild here on the Island with one less thing to think about suits me just fine thankyouverymuch.

Still, I’ve been lobbing the ball with the Chuckit in the driveway here because the ferns and duff make finding balls a bit difficult. She finds enough reason to run through the woods without me launching the ball in that direction. My aim with the Chuckit is a bit off though (I’d blame the busted ribs but I’ve been known to bean random people at the dogparks with my shots). As the dogs ran down the dirt and pine driveway last week, the red ball landed in a branch. Gazza and Rudy combed the area thoroughly, oblivious to the ball above them. Go figure it’s one of only three small branches that tower above the long driveway. I could never hope to land it there if I tried (as evidenced by the futile throwing of rocks to knock it loose). I expected the wind to knock the ball down, but it spent a few nights up there, swaying peacefully in the breeze, until Peleke got it down with some well-placed rocks and sticks.

Before the ball stranding, though, I'd been enjoying the quiet morning with Gazza and Rudy. I happened to glance to my left at one point and was delighted to see two long spiderweb strands- and I do mean long! The reached from the bottom branches of the pines to nearly the forest floor. The seeming impossibility of that from what was (hopefully) a small spider prompted me to step in for a closer look. After one step, I realized what I was actually seeing was a fascinating optical illusion of similarly impossible likelihood.

Three tall pine trees in the shadow of the woods lined up perfectly so that the two parallel to the road tightly framed the third, which stood a few feet further back. They have grown so tall and straight that from just the right angle and with the sun filtered through the leaves just so, the thinnest glimmer of pure light shone through on either side of the furthest tree. Those parallel slivers of light reached from the lower branches to the ferns looking like two long shimmering spiderweb strands.

Crazy.

Deep discussions being had on Beaver Island

2009-10-28T13:10:00.000-05:00

Peleke

This would be a great place to build a plane except for having to ship all the parts over by plane or ferry.

Wenikio

That would be cool. Would you really want to do the test flight on an island though?

Peleke

What do you mean?

Wenikio

I’m sure you’re a conscientious builder and all, but what if something happened? Like a wing fell off?

Peleke

Um, if a wing fell off, I don’t think it matters if you’re over land or water.

Touche.

2009-10-27T12:14:00.001-05:00

Most of you know this by now (and apparently many of you knew before I did anyway...), but Peleke is home early. AWESOME.

So you'll pardon me for being silent awhile. Regular posting to return next week :)

Squashed

2009-10-19T12:06:00.000-05:00

As you drive East, the blue Lake Michigan waters shimmering in the distance, there’s a charming sight on the packed dirt road back to the cabin. A fairly nondescript plot of land sits on the south side of the road, hemmed in on three sides by tall trees. There’s something about the trees on Beaver Island that I have yet to put my finger on. They’re certainly not old growth, my dad thinks they might be second or even third generation growth, but they are tall. The woods are full and soft from the thick layer of duff covered immediately by the sea of ferns and then higher up by the branches dancing in breezes enjoyed only by birds and leaves. Under the branches currently garbed in colorful but tattered splendor, birds dart in the shadows, sometimes disappearing down beneath the brown ferns. If you stand quietly, you’ll hear them all calling. The mysterious life under the ferns is being exposed this month by their withering. I wonder if the mice and smaller creatures ever feel deceived by this show of fragility by the very things that gave them thick cover all summer.

These beautiful woods cover most of the island and of course surround the piece of land along the road home. A John Deere tractor sits by the driveway for $200. There’s the house set in back of the lot. The building up closer to the road is adorned with horseshoes and various clutter of life. There’s a garden in back that must provide the furnishings for the rickety table at the side of the road. Rain, hail, or shine, acorn and butternut squash have been placed out every day we’ve driven by. A clear plastic container with its top cut off serves as the donation box, a clunky old piece of hardware weighting it down from the winds coming straight off Lake Michigan.

My mom and I have been buying the squash and savoring them. They are big, colorful, and full of fall flavor. They still have some dirt on them, and I can’t get enough of just feeling their pleasant shapes and smooth skins in my hands. I realize how much I’ve missed them and already mourn their passing days. Each year I conveniently forget how much I really love squash until it’s sitting there on the plate in front of me. That sounds admittedly strange coming from an American who is rapidly approaching Thanksgiving in the Midwest.

As I reheated some of the fresh squash the other night for a midnight snack, I watched the bowl spin around in the microwave. I couldn’t help feeling a little sad, like the process of microwaving took some of the essence of the squash away. Directing high concentrations of anything (especially types of energy) towards another thing is vaguely disconcerting to me.

No, I’m not going to start eating raw foods or even stop using the microwave, it’s just that I do wonder at the marvel of modern eating. And there’s something about fall that stirs longings. Sometimes it’s for people, sometimes it’s for the past or future, and sometimes, well, sometimes it’s just for squash.

Rethinking

2009-10-17T08:00:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I happen to write a batch of emails (putting it that way makes something personal sound so impersonal) at the same time about recent thoughts and experiences. I don't want to "cut and paste" emails, though, because there are subtly different things I would or wouldn't mention to people. The past few months I've felt a little guilty that more indepth emails to particular people overlap quite a bit, and then when I go to blog, much of what was said in email ends up on this blog too. If it's any consolation, rest assured that you "lucky" email recipients got the thoughts first :)

As I was writing last night, it occurred to me that be the situation as it may, I also appreciate the duplicity. I find multiple tellings help give me different perspectives of whatever experience or thought may be described. I suppose on some level I anticipate the recipient's reactions and tweak the rendition accordingly. It's definitely not as dynamic as an actual interaction, but it's enough to prompt some thoughts I might not have had if I had kept it to myself.

And that, dear friends, is a big reason why I have this darned thing in the first place. So thanks :)