Surgery Day

Our day started out bright and early. No need to make time for breakfast with Jake's NPO status, so that bought us another thirty minutes of sleep. I was absolutely dreading going through the two-hour, pre-op appt. With good reason. I spoke to my friend Heidi about it last night, and she said it's not a pleasant experience. You are just basically shuffled around from room to room, signing in at each station to wait to have things explained to (and questions asked of) you. {Heidi's hubs is an LDS Army chaplain and we've gotten to know them through our October conferences over the years. They are stationed here.}

As soon as we arrived on the floor, I realized something. With all of the craziness in the clinic over the past couple of days...at least no one was rude. These nurses behind the counter on the surgical ward were just plain mean and nasty. I seriously wanted to ask if they were always this rude to people, or if I was just special. I was yelled at twice for standing in the wrong spot. I'm not kidding you. It's not like it was obvious or intuitive...I was just following the signs. {"Oh...I'm sorry, Nurse Ratched...this says 'check in here for surgery.' I didn't realize there was ANOTHER 'check in here for surgery.' Sorry I picked the wrong one."} When we got to the station where a nurse does the vitals and creates the chart, etc., we found out she hadn't gotten the memo that Jake was to be admitted (not an outpatient). This would mean a totally different chart and set of forms. She was obviously ticked and couldn't get a hold of the Dr. to confirm...and just got more ticked that no one would return her page. That was fun.

After several stations, Jake had his gown, robe and slippers and knew how to use them. We were finally in the last waiting room, ready to speak with the anesthesiologist. Into the room walked Heidi, her husband, and a military Sr. missionary couple. I can't even tell you how wonderful it was to see their shiny, happy, friendly faces. What a blessing! Right behind them came the anesthesiologist, so they waited while we met with him. He was absolutely delightful. Jake couldn't stop cracking up at his iPod playlist. I'm guessing because the music was right off the set of Soul Train, and he was Caucasian and obviously not even yet born in the 70s. While Jake found it amusing, I was thinking, "I could seriously be friends with this guy."

When we came back into the waiting room, Lee (Heidi's husband) mentioned there was a meditation chapel just around the corner. We went to the counter to tell Nurse Ratched and Co. that we were just going to go around the corner to the chapel for a few minutes, and she went into overdrive with "WHERE are you going? WHAT is the patient's name" in a tone usually reserved for someone who has just thrown your bike in a ditch. I couldn't help it, I turned around to Heidi and said (so anyone could hear me), "Do you see what I was talking about?" Strangely enough, her demeanor changed...as if I had just held up a mirror to her behavior.

In the chapel, we were able to shut out all of the craziness, rudeness and anxiety...and just focus on peace and each other. Lee and the Elder gave blessings to Jake and me, which was so helpful. Cliff had given us blessings before we left, but with all that had transpired, it was so nice to be brought back to center again. After a few minutes, they left...promising to come visit again tomorrow...and Jake and I made our way back to the waiting room. About 15 minutes later, a nurse came to lead us to the OR.

This is where Jake started to panic. "I'm not ready for this...I'm not ready to give up walking yet!" Hearing the panic in his voice was heartbreaking...but we had come this far, and needed to just push forward, so I just stayed calm and told him he could do it, it would all be OK. Jake got gowned-up and climbed into his bed to wait for his turn. In a matter of minutes, the surgeon came out and talked to us for a few minutes. Then the anesthesiologist tried to start the IV. Even though they had put patches on his hands to numb the skin, Jake panicked some more at the thought of the needle. He offered to give Jake the mask instead, but warned the gas had a very strange smell. Jake wanted him to describe the gas, but he had nothing to compare it to. {Jake later described it as a cross between BO, diesel fuel, onions and cilantro.} Then Jake wanted to know if he was going to dream. Then he asked how many people were going to be in the room.

By now, I'm getting the feeling Jake is just looking for ways to stall. He opted for the mask, and then the anesthesiologist asked Jake if he wanted ME to scrub up and accompany them into the OR and wait until he's asleep. I know Jake really doesn't need this, but of course, he agrees to the suggestion. Unfortunately, by this point it's after noon, I haven't eaten anything either, and I'm starting to feel sick. The thought of being in the OR makes it worse. I've just been waiting for them to wheel him in, so I can eat something and take something for my headache before I start dry heaving.

Luckily, Jake was understanding when I explained that I was feeling sick and needed to take some medicine, and agreed that I should just walk him to the OR door. I followed them to the point of no return, kissed him, told him I loved him...turned around and {surprise} started to cry. It was just a tension release, I'm sure. I knew he was in good hands...knew he was going to be fine and that this was for the best...but it was still stressful.

While I waited, besides getting some miso udon noodle soup and taking some Motrin, I went and got the temporary handicapped placard for the rental car, and picked up a little something for Jake to cuddle with when he woke up:


What can I say, he's not the teddy bear type.

I was only back in the waiting room for about twenty minutes when they came in to get me, so it wasn't too bad at all. Jake spent two hours in recovery...he just wouldn't wake up. It was actually not too different than any other morning. He's always been a sleeper. The surgeon said things went great..two incisions...one on the foot, one on his calf, just above the ankle, to lengthen his tendons (which should improve his poor range of motion). Jake was now the proud owner of a dead guy's foot bone. How many kids can say that?

As I watched him stir, trying to fight his way out of his sleep, I had a vivid flashback almost twelve years earlier, back to the day (a week into his PICU stay) he was finally being allowed to come out of his drug-induced coma, with the hope that they could try extubation. I was dangling a necklace, back and forth, over his hand...trying to tickle him awake. I'll never forget the moment his eyes finally fluttered open and he tried to focus on the charms and moved his hand to grasp them. When he saw me, a big smile flashed across his face...but then his little face quickly crumpled into tears (but he couldn't really cry around the vent). Back then, we were only sent about an hour away to the nearest major military hospital, for what ended up being a two week stay (although a much scarier one). Now we are thousands of miles from home for almost twice that long...but again, just the two of us.



Jake at six months, during his PICU stay after contracting Infantile Botulism.


Anyway, as he did get more wakeful, he started expressing lots of regret...wishing he had never agreed to the surgery. He was complaining about numbness in his leg (turns out he just didn't realize the cast was what was keeping him from feeling the sheets) and pain in his good heel (maybe from the way it was resting during the surgery). Finally, he was awake enough for us to head up to the pediatric ward.

They have been really wonderful up here...and it is such a relief, I can't even express it. Why can't everyone be this lovely to deal with? I'm so glad we are staying the night. When I think about having to take him home in this condition, it just blows my mind. He's so groggy and anxious. Luckily, the chair folds out into a bed that is actually comfortable, so I can stay right here with him. (Beats the recliner I slept upright in,back at the PICU). There are three other beds in the room, but we have it to ourselves, at least for now.

Goodnight!

April

I can't believe she's gone. Ever since I received the news back in March from April's husband, I've known this day would come. Ever since I read and googled those words from his email, "stage IV pulmonary adenocarcinoma," I've opened every Caring Bridge update, wondering if this was going to be the one...but today, even before I opened it, I knew.

Back in late February, April had been kind of scarce on Facebook...not unusual considering she had started back to school and her husband had deployed to Afghanistan. I didn't think much of it. Didn't know of the acute symptoms she had been experiencing that sent her to the hospital. Even as I read Glen's email in March, I was alarmed that he had been sent home, but was not immediately thinking the worst...there could be lots of reasons they'd send a Marine home, right? As the reality sunk in as I read his words, "most aggressive form" "late stages"...it was hard to then transition with him as he wrote of "standing in faith" and "right to be healed." I was still reeling and screaming in my head. I immediately got on my knees. Actually, I think the first thing I did was email Cliff (who was on an exercise in Korea) and my chaplain spouses group and asked them to pray with me for this Marine family...then I got on my knees and did the same. And continued to pray for a miracle.

I prayed in my usual way, as we've been instructed...for His will to be done...and for the courage to accept it...but added my own pleading for it to PLEEEAAASSE be His will that she live...that she get to continue to be the amazing wife to her husband, the fabulous mother to her four young children, the friend everyone felt lucky to have. But even as I prayed, I knew that was not always his will. Sometimes fabulous, angelic mothers die. Sometimes it's His will that fathers come home too soon for their families' liking. I knew this. I've experienced it in my own family. But I couldn't help praying and thinking this was entirely unfair.

I wanted to have as much faith as April...I really did. She had SO much faith...but I've known that about her ever since we met 13 years ago. So many of our conversations centered around faith. Although we are both Christian, we belong to different faith groups. Her journey to Christ was similar to mine, though...troubled upbringing, muddling her way through to find Him in adulthood. But where I am boisterous and sometimes bossy by nature, she was gentle and meek...quick to smile, slow to judge, and absolutely sparkled from the inside out. I can still hear her gentle voice in my mind (a tender mercy) as I go over some of the conversations that we've had. I remember calling April after receiving the phone call telling me that another good friend of mine (who I had just been chatting with at church the day before) was in the hospital, having discovered her full term baby would be stillborn. I was hysterical. April said, "let's pray for them right now"...and when I started but could barely even speak through the sobs, she took over, and lifted them up in the most beautiful prayer, right there over the phone...a prayer which also lifted me up and gave me the strength to do all that I could to help this friend through grief and funeral details.

Considering how much her example has helped me in my life, it is ironic the way we were introduced. I was supposed to be helping her. She was referred to me through an autism early intervention support group. Her two year old daughter was newly diagnosed with autism. Even though we lived in the same neighborhood, we had several phone conversations before finally meeting in person. Talking to her and being with her were just so easy...it's hard to explain. She was such a patient mother...one of my first examples of home schooling, too...as she was also home schooling her oldest daughter through all of this.

During those years, she and I were both truly in the thick of it...each having 4 babies pretty close together, Cliff worked full time and was in grad school full time. Glen also went to school at night...and did an unaccompanied tour over here to Okinawa at one point. We were both navigating IEPs, neurology, Regional Center...on top of our already challenging lives as Marine wives.

We shared our beliefs with each other. One of my favorite April memories involved me locking myself in the bathroom to get away from my rowdy kids while I answered her questions about the Articles of Faith of my church. She was sharing with me the similarities with her own Pentecostal beliefs (the faith group she had belonged to when she started going to church...she was then attending a non-denominational Christian church).

Another story took place after she had moved a few hours north (during her husband's Okinawa tour). Some LDS missionaries had knocked on her door. Now, she was not looking for a new church, she was happy with her own...but she said she let them in because she knew they were from my church. She told me that during their visit, they had offered to help her with anything she needed. She asked them how they felt about hornets nests. The Elders set up a time to come back and get rid of the hornets. What April wanted to know from me, was if they really just wanted to help her, or if they were going to be disappointed when she didn't join their church. I assured her that they truly did want to help her, that in fact, service was part of their mission. I also told her I couldn't promise they wouldn't be disappointed...but that I knew they most of all just wanted to help her. Still to this day, I love that visual of those Elders fighting the hornets in their quest to serve my friend.

There are other stories too personal (or even sacred) to share here...but just know that she was such an example of patience, forgiveness and long-suffering. She was simply amazing.

I stopped trying to understand the "why's" a long time ago. Some things are just impossible to reason out. But like Nephi, even though I do not know the meaning of all things, I DO know, without a shadow of a doubt, that our Father in Heaven loves his children. All of us. He has the power to use all circumstances for his purposes, even when they are not evident to us.

I also know that I will never think of distance quite the same again. A trip from coast to coast? After dealing with an entire ocean...no biggie. How I wish I could get in a car and drive to her funeral right now. Even better...how many visits would we have gotten in between March and now? She only lived about four hours away from where we were last stationed...but she moved there from across the country after we had already moved to Japan. Such is life in the military...but I still can't help feeling ridiculous for just taking for granted we'd have another opportunity to be stationed together. I was just sure that we would...that we had plenty of time.

After all is said and done, I know it doesn't matter whether I mourn in California or on Okinawa. It's more important that I continue to pray for her family, and have faith in God's plan...and gratitude for the lessons she taught me.

See you in Heaven, April. Put in a good word for me, K?

Troy's Mission Call!!!

Did I get your attention with that one? Did anyone start doing the math in their heads to see if it was time already? Trust me, it will come soon enough! I'm sure these next 2 years will fly by.

Seriously, though...since Troy is 16, he had the opportunity to spend a day with the missionaries here on Okinawa during Spring break. He started with their district meeting, ate lunch with them, knocked on doors, went to their appointments, and even got to teach part of the first discussion to a part member family...interspersed with LOTS of bike riding on these crazy streets! (I did plenty of praying throughout the day, trust me!)

The day was supposed to end at 8 PM back at the Elders' apartments and Troy was supposed to call me to come pick him up. When I didn't hear anything by 8:30 and couldn't get through to him via cell phone, I just decided to go pick him up in case his cell phone wasn't charged. It takes about 20 minutes to get to where they live on the back side of Kadena AFB.

When I got there, I found him with the Elders at their table with scriptures open, having a discussion. He said, "Oh, mom! I was going to call you when everybody got back." It was wonderful to see him having such a great time with these awesome Elders. It was an amazing opportunity for him to get a taste for what it is going to be like. I thought it was funny, though, that he was being a missionary in Japan, but he had taco rice for lunch and pizza for dinner! Oh well, we eat Japanese so much now, it wouldn't be so exotic anyway! (Taco rice is technically Okinawan, so I guess that counts!)


Troy being nourished by the Word


Troy and his friend Drew along with 2 sets of Elders


We had to head to the other side of town to drop off Troy's bike for another "Jr. Elder" to use the next day...so while there, we got this shot of Troy with friends Josh and Seth who were paired with the Futenma Elders.

Next year, Troy will be 17, so he will be able to spend 3 days with the Elders over Spring break. He plans to keep up on his biking skills in the mean time, so those hills won't be quite so killer!

Singing for Their Supper

We had the Elders over for dinner last night.
On the menu...teriyaki glazed salmon (Cliff broiled to perfection) yummy green salad (with cranberries, almonds and feta cheese), garlic mashed potatoes and pink lemonade.
For dessert...apple cobbler ala mode.
The entertainment...THE funniest elders we have had grace our home to date.

We were laughing almost from the time they got there until they left. One of them did an impersonation of a blogger that had me totally pegged. I even snorted at one point!

They loved our kids...and we think we have even converted them to home schooling! (That wasn't our intent...but I sure hope they find those special ladies that are willing to give it a whirl...)

Cliff was the one that made them sing...but first he made them leave with us the obligatory spiritual message. No worries, Mission President...I insisted they do a religious number...it's never too early for Christmas music!

"Thank you, thank you...we'll be here all week!"

We were still talking about them tonight at dinner. Coree wants to invite them to dinner every night.

Patrick said, "Isn't it cool how we get the missionaries we need? We got Elder Richardson and Elder Bunn when we were doing the back yard..." (they were very handy, hard-working guys) "and now when we REALLY needed to laugh, we got these guys."

Great observation, Patrick...they really were a tender mercy.