Sobaya Chirugwa (Red Roof Soba)

We have been to (and blogged about) Sobaya Chirugwa before, but never knew its real name. We just always called it Red Roof Soba. We still do. It's easier. You can read our other posts about it here and here. (The kids look so much younger in just a couple of years time!)

Anyway, when we were in Hawaii, poor Jake just wanted to go "home." One day he asked me, "Mom...can we go eat at Red Roof Soba as a family as soon as possible when we get back? You know, to celebrate our return to Okinawa with authentic Okinawan food?" After all that kid had been through, of course I told him we would go ASAP. Well, we kind of forgot about it with all the other travel going on...and Jake reminded us a couple of times before last night.


We finally went, and it was worth the wait.



Coree likes to order the kids plate just to get one of those corn snacks on the left (like a single, giant cheeto with corn seasoning instead of cheese) that we could buy for ten cents at the grocery store. They never question her age, so we just go with it.



I kept looking around at everyone, trying my best to soak it all in.



We are definitely counting down the days we have left as an intact family unit as Troy prepares for his mission.



Coree is counting down the days until she can leave for college.



We ordered some gyoza to share. It is pretty good here. A little on the greasy side, so I only had one.



Then the soba started arriving. Nom, nom, nom.



Cliff, Troy and I ordered the (aptly named) Yummy Combo.



Because of the presentation, it actually looks bigger than it is...



But it is still a lot of food. Starting from the left, (bottom row) a grains-rice mixture, soba noodles with fish and pork; (middle row) a mixture of stewed root vegetables, tofu and a pig's foot, fish and vegetable tempura and dipping sauce; (top row) pickled seaweed and a cabbage and corn salad. I enjoy everything but the pig's foot. Troy eats that while I close my eyes.

Welcome home (late) Jake. We're glad you are back among your people.

Eat, Shop, Laugh (Curry House Paradise)

We had another lovely date night. Our kids had all been to the new curry buffet, Curry House Paradise, but we had yet to eat there, so we gave it a whirl.


It's part of the new section of American Village, Depot Island.



There were many varieties of curry. I tried four of them because I wanted to arrange my plate like they did in their advertisements. Doesn't it look terribly clever? They were all wonderful. I don't even remember exactly what they were, other than a couple of them were chicken, one was pork.



We started with soup and salad, which were also included.



The decor had a very Latin flair (as did the music)...which I was not expecting from a curry place. But if I have learned one thing on Okinawa...it's to always expect the unexpected.



Afterward, we decided to do some window shopping.



And found some very interesting items. I don't know what fruit has to do with waist size...



Or what peace has to do with underwear, for that matter.



Utah is famous. Who knew.



There's even a whole line of CTR clothing!



They should really open up a Wasatch Front location, don't you think?



It even comes in Primary colors!



And on redneck hats, too!



I wonder what kind of music the CTR channel would play?
Give Said the Little Stream?
Popcorn Popping?



Look, Lisa! (I didn't see a Bee's Knees volume, though.)



And as if we needed more hideousness in the world, there is an entire store of Crocs (as opposed to a small rack in the Target garden department, where they belong). This is another store that would do well in Utah, me thinks...judging by the number of children I see show up to church on Sunday wearing these. (Can I get verification from any of my Utah peeps?) Apparently, horrid, brightly-colored, foam is the new leather. For the love of good taste, PLEEZE let this fad pass quickly...along with those horrible sandals that squeak with every step.

Anyway, that was our exciting date night for this week. We give Curry House Paradise four thumbs up. We'll be back, I'm sure.

Bookclub!!!

Does belonging to a book club sound pretentious? How about one that reads the classics? Yeah, I kinda thought so too, but I don't care...these ladies are so awesome. It's not so much about reading the book (although that's kind of essential) it's about the insight you gain and share...and friendships you develop.

To tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure how I ended up with an invite to this one...and by looking at us, it's not like we are super-homogenous...other than we're all Mormon. (OK...you're right, that does dictate a certain level of homogeneity right there.) But throw the Mormon thing out, and we are a diverse group of ages, backgrounds and places in life...and I love it! So much so, I imagine myself doing a screening for future members...

"What can you bring to the table? Oh, you are a feminist empty-nester with socialist leanings? No, we already have that one covered. Next..."
"Oh, you're a Southern, widowed teacher? Nope, that slot is filled too. Next!"
"A Latina mother of 5 who served a mission and is into sci-fi?" We've got one of those. Next..."
"Hot, single, blonde scuba instructor/detective who packs heat for her day job? Sorry, try again when ours moves."

I'm obviously just kidding (about excluding people who are too similar...not about the makeup of our group...those details do accurately describe some of our members). I know that everyone is not that one-dimensional, that we all have different perspectives to add, even when we are very similar otherwise...but do you get why I love this group so much?



We're not all pictured here, but I forgot to take more pics as others arrived.



But I did take pics of some of the food.


I should mention, this was part two of The Count of Monte Cristo. So naturally, French food was in order. Last month we had things such as Monte Cristo sandwiches and fancy French pastries. This time, Troy was AWESOME and made creme brulee for me. In two varieties...chocolate and regular. Everything was delicious.

While we ate amazing food, we had a very inspiring discussion on justice vs. mercy...including our experiences with forgiveness. Mostly how freeing it is to forgive. There was much laughter and tears, and at the end of the evening, I felt closer to all of them. Not to mention I was in awe at how brilliant we all are. I think we could have solved the world's problems right there in my living room.

If you are not a member of a bookclub, I would encourage you to find one, or start your own. Feel free to use my interview questions. You're welcome.

North Shore Drive

We had planned to go to the Polynesian Cultural Center today, but Jake really didn't feel up to it. Instead, we decided just to take a windshield tour of the windward side of the island. We had to do something to get out of the room.

First, we took H3 straight out to the Marine base at Kaneohe Bay to look around at the BX, quarters, etc. You know, the important stuff. It is a very nice base with lots of new and improved housing. We ate lunch at the food court. {Only the best for Jake.} Then we did a little shopping. Not too much, though...not a lot of room left in the suitcases. Just important things...like chocolate chip macadamia nut shortbread cookies.



This is just the way I remember it from 20 years ago. I think it's wild how the road runs right along the ocean. See how wet it is? That is from the waves crashing onto the road. It was fun to watch.



I wonder how many people have driven straight into the ocean?



We followed the signs to the LDS temple in Laie. Beautiful! It had just opened back up after two years of renovations.



Then we backtracked a little to check out the BYU Hawaii campus.



What a gorgeous campus. We're hoping one/some of our kids have the opportunity to go here.



Jake still didn't feel like stopping at the Cultural Center next door, so we just kept driving...up to the North Shore. We found parking right off the road and stopped to take in the sights for awhile. {With Hawaiian radio 105.1, KINE, playing in the background, of course. It's been our constant soundtrack for our adventure here. Hawaiian music is probably going to give me traumatic flashbacks of this experience now.}



The waves were awesome. I could have sat here all afternoon and watched.



Then, to add to the local flavor, a machete-wielding stranger walked up to our car with a green coconut...



And made us an offer we couldn't refuse. {Seriously, we were afraid of what he might do with that machete if we turned him down.}



Jake loves coconut and was super excited to be drinking from one. The straw looked suspiciously like those McDonald's carries...and with no wrapper in sight, I had my worries about its origin. {Here's hoping Jake's "local" experience doesn't have him "going coconuts" all night.}

Conference Weekend

The past three days have been totally low-key. Our lives have pretty much revolved around Jake's pain medicine schedule. Three days of leg elevation down...three more to go. I feel so bad for him...he gets so uncomfortable having to lie flat on his back. He's tried going to either side, but the cast rubs on his ankle bone. It seems like this will go on forever, but I know it won't.

Jake hates the oral pain meds. He can't stand the loopy feeling. Pssshhh...I wish he could share, I could use some loopy right now! But no, I need to stay conscious to be able to fetch our meals and such. Jake gets really anxious whenever I have to leave. Traffic can be bad and there is nothing close by, so I feel really bad when I have to leave and so I try to rush back, but it still feels like forever to him. Luckily we have a little fridge and microwave. I try to only leave once a day.

I've become addicted to OWN (The Oprah Network). What will I do when I have to return to the world of AFN channels? Oh Oprah, I will miss you. Between her programming and "The Hunger Games" series that Jenn lent to me for the trip, I've managed to stay occupied.



Lucky for us, it is Conference weekend...which really lends itself well to just laying around watching TV. On one hand, we were very lucky to be in a US time zone so that we could watch it live. If we were still in Japan, we would have to wait until next weekend to watch the rebroadcast at church, or try to stream it over our slow Internet connection on the Mac. On the other hand, since we are in the Hawaii time zone, that means we have to get up at 6 AM to watch the first session. Since I'm kind of a night owl lately, that didn't go over too well. I went in and turned on Jake's TV and told him it was on, but I'm pretty sure he slept through both morning sessions. I probably slept through half of them. But I was awake for both of the afternoon sessions and they were great.

My favorite two talks from this conference:

Richard G. Scott-He spoke on the blessings of eternal marriage and developing unity through trials. I have a love/hate relationship with this concept. On one hand, I know it is true. When I look back on the experiences Cliff and I have had in our 20 years, I know that the trials strengthen our bond. On the other hand, sheesh, sometimes I wish life could be a bed of roses. He also told the sweet story of caring for his sick child through the night, and when he died unexpectedly a few months later, how grateful he was to have the precious memory of holding and caring for his son during that night. It made me think of this whole experience with Jake (and the one we had 12 years ago). Even in all the craziness, I'm grateful to have the opportunity to care for him.

Lynn G. Robbins-He started off his talk with the famous question, "To be or not to be" and then went on to talk about "to do or to be" I loved the part where he asked, "Can a child ever be checked off as done?" Sometimes, I can't really think about this concept because it makes my throat start to close up. Parenting is never done...even when you're a great-grandparent. Someone recently told me, "You're only as happy as your least happy child." Oh, this is so true. When I start to think of what the future could potentially hold, with four children raising families of their own, I realize I will never be able to check them off as done. I just pray they make wise decisions...the most important being with whom they will raise their own families. My favorite part was his analogy of "Parenting 101" vs. "Parenting 505." When kids/teens bring challenges with their choices, it's hard not to think of those challenges as a burden. But when he asked, "With which child will your patience, long-suffering, and other Christlike virtues most likely be tested, developed, and refined? Could it be possible that you need this child as much as this child needs you?" It really made me think of things differently. Not that I'm looking to have my patience and long-suffering challenged, believe me!

I look forward to getting the Ensign so that I can read the talks I dozed through. Heaven knows, with no Oprah network, I'll have enough reading time on my hands.

More Hospital Craziness...and Lessons Learned

Let me start this post by apologizing for all the drama lately...but oh my goodness, this just keeps on going! I hope to be back to our regularly scheduled shiny-happiness ASAP. If you want to check back in when the coast is clear, I'll totally understand.

This morning started out bright and early. 6 AM-Rounds for the residents. I didn't sleep half bad in that fold-out chair. Neither did Jake, apparently. Unfortunately, this meant he slept through a dose of his pain meds. This didn't occur to anyone until, 6:30 AM-Pain spike. I was so grateful we weren't dealing with this by ourselves in the hotel room (and by we, I mean me). Of course, if I had been dealing with it by myself, I would have set the alarm to administer the pain meds. Just sayin'. Anyway, it was pretty brutal. I don't handle my children's pain very well. It seemed like it took forever to bring back under control, but it was such a relief when he was resting comfortably again.

After the surgeon's visit to check on him, I got the impression we'd be staying another night, just to make sure his pain was under control. The OT and the social worker both stopped by and went over his needs in those areas. I was given instructions and handouts to secure the "must have" shower chair, Jake was issued his crutches and taken on a bit of a scary trial run (with his IV catheter still in his arm)...and a rental wheelchair was ordered. At this point (just after noon), I decided Jake was probably in a good enough place that I could go back to the room and shower and change. I hooked him up with a Harry Potter movie and made my way up the hill. (Knowing there would be no parking in the hotel lot, because hospital staff also use it, and also knowing my front-lot hospital spot I had scored the night before would be gone if I left it...I opted to just walk back and forth.) When I got into the room and started to gather my things, I realized...I had no clean clothes. A much needed shower and two loads of laundry later, I was headed back down the hill to see how Jake was doing.

I logged back in and spotted the shiny new wheelchair outside his door. When I entered the room, I saw that we now had roommates. Jake was kind of upset I had been gone so long. I told him I'd be back in just over an hour and I'd been gone for three. I felt bad, but what could I do? His movie was over and the nurse had started another for him. He popped back in to check on Jake, and said that he heard we'd be headed home soon. I was confused, so he called to have one of the residents come back up and talk to us.

The {15 year old} resident arrived about 20 minutes later. She said that since he'd been fine since this morning's pain episode, he was OK to be released. The surgeon had really made it sound like we were staying another day, and frankly, I was scared that his pain wasn't going to be managed via oral medication. I explained that the OT had insisted we have a shower chair and that I hadn't had a chance to go out and get it yet and was hoping to do it while he was still in the hospital, so he wouldn't be left alone in this condition while I scoured the island for medical supply stores. Instead of being concerned about...or even acknowledging this predicament, she said, "Well, the OT didn't say anything about this in her notes." Blank stare. I wanted to say, "Yes, I'm just making this up. This entire 30 minute dialog I had with the OT, her insistence it was necessary for his safety, how Tricare didn't pay for it anymore, so I'd have to pay for it, the list of places to look which I held in my hand...yep. I'm totally making this up."

Finally, I just said, "By releasing him now, you are in effect, saying he's OK to be left totally alone in a hotel room while I not only find this chair, but while I go out and get all of our meals, since he's supposed to be in bed for the next five days with his leg elevated above his heart, other than to use the bathroom and shower. So is that what you are saying? Because I'm not thinking he's ready for that." She didn't even blink. "He'll be fine." (looking at Jake) "You're not going to do anything stupid, right?"

On one hand, I SO wanted to be out of there, on the other hand, I kept visualizing the story my neighbor told, of our other neighbor whose child had a similar surgery {same hospital}, they under-medicated him, and she had to leave her screaming, vomiting child back in the room with a hotel employee while she raced back to the hospital for adequate pain meds. This whole system just seemed so crazy! Hotels are not hospitals...and patients don't have adequate support, removed from their communities! But what did I know? Apparently, Jake was ready to care for himself.

So, the resident left and the nurse came back to tell us we'd head down the the cast room for Jake's overwrap before they discharged him, but that they had said they were pretty backed up and asked us to wait about an hour. (The surgeon had left his cast cut open, up the middle, to allow for swelling. Now they needed to wrap more of the cast material around it, to harden it into a regular cast.) About an hour later (5 PM) a nursing assistant took us down to find the cast room deserted. No one in sight. She managed to get someone on the phone who paged someone who came in and wanted to know who we had talked to. He was the ortho tech on call, and he knew nothing of this. When he looked Jake up in the computer system, he discovered that the nurse on the floor had mistakenly placed the order with (and spoken on the phone to) the casting room of the ortho clinic at Schofield Barracks...nearly an hour away...instead of the casting room of the ortho clinic downstairs in the same hospital. *Facepalm*

The ortho tech wrapped up the cast. Jake had now decided to have white wrapped over his previously chosen, hunter orange...guess he was bored with it already. It was now after 6, and Jake's foot had been down WAY too long, so we hurried out to the lobby. I fished in the pocket of my backpack where the keys should have been and they're gone. I search through all the other compartments...nothing. I mentally retraced my steps and realized, since I'd been walking back and forth between the hotel and hospital during Jake's stay...I must have left them back in the hotel. The nurse offered to call the hotel shuttle, but couldn't get a hold of them...and I was doubtful they would even come after hours. So, I determined it would just be quicker for me to walk across the hospital parking lot and up the stairs and across the hotel parking lot and back, than it would be to wait for a shuttle. I think I mentioned these stairs before.



You can't really see all of them here because they turn to the left and keep going...but there are 103 steps here. While I realize this might be someone's cardio-fantasy...I hate stairs. And when I was about 3/4 of the way to the top, I kid you not...out of nowhere it started pouring down rain. I had had it at this point, and started sobbing...and since I was also out of breath, this was not easy. I looked up to heaven, and said, "OK...what is the point of this? What am I supposed to learn from all of this?" I was just feeling kicked while I was down, and just wanted to get my kid back into his bed.

When I made it to the room, the key card would not open the door. Now I was really crying, and digging through my bag for another, and hoping I was alone in the building. I finally found one that worked. So, I started searching the room but couldn't see them anywhere. I remembered I was wearing my jacket last night, and I was betting the keys were in the pocket...only the jacket was nowhere to be found. It was now going on 6:30, and I was panicking. I called back to the ward to see if maybe I left the jacket in the room...maybe it had fallen behind something. They couldn't find it either.

So, I did the only thing I could do...I prayed and headed back down to the hospital, empty handed. I walked by the rental car to see if for some crazy reason I had left it unlocked with the keys inside (which I would never do) but it was all secure with no sign of the jacket, either. As I walked back to the front of the hospital, the nurse was waving her phone at me, saying, "They found your jacket with the keys inside!" Since it was taking so long, she had called up to the ward to get the phone number for my room. They told her I had just called, and that they had found the jacket wrapped up with the linen and someone was running it down. Hallelujah!

Just then, who should walk out the door, but the surgeon. He was very surprised to see us, but I gave him a nutshell run-down of all that had transpired, and he just shook his head in disbelief. He pointed at Jake and said, "That young man needs to get his leg up in the air...because that cast will act just like a tourniquet." I told him we were working on it, that someone was headed down with the keys as we spoke...but wanted to say, "Now tell me why it was so important that he be released tonight...AFTER business hours...leading to all this craziness?! WHO'S plan was this?!" But I was just so grateful to be getting out of there, I refrained.

As we were driving back up to the hotel, I remembered that Heidi was supposed to come visit us earlier this afternoon. I wondered if something had happened, and if she would show up, just to find us gone. I hoped that they'd at least steer her in the right direction if she did show up. Jake was really starting to feel the pain and I was eager to get him pumped with some more drugs with his foot elevated. He did not like the loopy feeling of the oral meds at all, but I was just glad to see him resting and not in pain. It was now after 7, and I had had some cookies to eat this morning, and that was it. The shower chair was going to have to wait for tomorrow, but we needed dinner now.

Just then, the phone rang. It was Heidi, apologizing for not making it down earlier...her day was pretty crazy. She asked how things were going, and I gave her the rundown of the latest misadventures. Then she said, "But...it worked out so that now I'm headed down ALONE (did I mention she has 7 kids?) and I just thought I'd pull over and call you to find out if you've eaten yet? I'm by a bunch of different restaurants." I wanted to cry. She had totally thrown me a lifeline. She listed what she saw, I picked Chili's and told her what we'd like. Then she asked, "Is there anything else you need?" I told her that the only other thing we needed was that shower chair, but that I'd just look for it tomorrow. I told her the OT gave me a list of medical supply places, but she had said that I should try Long's Drugs first, because if they had it, they'd be the cheapest option. Then Heidi said, "I'm sitting right in front of a Long's Drugs." And it just so happened, that she knew exactly what we needed, because she had had surgery and had needed one, too.

That one phone call had changed my entire outlook. I had felt completely alone...like we had been sent across the ocean to totally fend for ourselves. The "powers that be" who sent us over here, really didn't seem to care if we had a decent place to stay, or how things turned out in the end. It felt like I had to fight within this system for everything and could take nothing for granted. But after I hung up the phone, I heard clearly in my mind, "I will not leave you comfortless." Maybe no one in this big government bureaucracy really does care what we're going through or what our needs are...but someone more important does. I have a Father in Heaven who meets my needs perfectly...and he will not leave me without comfort. That, my friends...is the lesson I needed to remember (as I looked toward heaven in the pouring rain). That is the take-away number one.

Heidi arrived in what seemed like no time at all, with delicious smelling food and the exact shower chair from the picture. As much as we needed the food and the chair, I needed the spirit which she brought even more. While Jake rested in the other room, we sat at the table in mine and just talked and talked. It's hard for me to express how uplifting the conversation was. It felt like medicine. I appreciated the opportunity to get to know her (more than the breaks and wives' luncheon at Chaplain's Conference usually provide). I will never forget what an angel of mercy she was to me...and it was obvious as we discussed the events of the day that led up to her being in my room at that moment (instead of earlier in the day at the hospital) that this was no coincidence.

Lesson number two came to me earlier today. I am just a visitor here in medical purgatory. I have friends who LIVE in this world...who are never going to be done with this as long as their children are living. I can't even imagine what that is like...and I'm so grateful that my stay here is temporary.

Lesson (or reminder) number three was that God answers our prayers through other people, sent on his errands...and that all of us have the ability to be angels of mercy to others. I pray that I can be the type of angel to someone else that Heidi was to me today.

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!

I've Got a Great Feeling About This Doctor

Tripler Army Medical Center, AKA "Crippler" or "The Pink Palace"

Jake had his appointment with the pediatric orthopedic surgeon yesterday and overall, I think it went great. He did a pretty thorough exam and really seemed to know his stuff. Not only are Jake's feet extremely flat, but the tendons are too tight, limiting his range of motion. He can fix both of those things through surgery. He was also very personable. Jake brought up Scouting (talking about not wanting to miss Scout camp) and it turns out, the Dr. is also a Scoutmaster. Also, I think he might be LDS. I thought I picked up on a faint Utah accent...and there's just this radar thing with Mormons. Hard to explain. Not being one to ask strangers about their religious beliefs...especially strangers who are going to be cutting on my children, I will have to see if I can think of some subtle way to find out. Because I'm nosy like that.

Unfortunately, the Dr. will not do both feet at once. This is not what we were lead to believe by the podiatrist. He said it's just not a good idea for a normally ambulatory kid his age. I totally trust his judgement, but I did put a few factoids out there for his consideration, like the fact that Jake is homeschooling now, but wants to go back to school next year, and it would be nice to have his recovery over by then...and that now I have an 18 year old to help with his care, but I won't have that past this summer. He said he'd take my request (to do both at once) under consideration...but honestly, I think he was just being nice. We'll do what we've gotta do...although the thought of having to do this trip twice is SO not appealing.

At first, he said we'd have to go back to Okinawa and wait for a surgery date. I was kind of bummed about having to make that flight THREE times, but not surprised. He sent us back out to the waiting room while he consulted the surgery schedule and said he'd send a nurse out with the paperwork. {Jake was hopeful for a date after Scout camp, so he'd still be able to attend.} After about 15 minutes, a nurse came out with an extension of orders for us to stay until April 15th, and an appt. line-up for next week, including a couple of pre-op appts and a surgery date. She just started explaining things as if I knew we were staying, so I was a bit confused at first...but then so relieved we were staying! Jake was not relieved. So much for Scout camp.

Of course, as we were leaving, I realized now I wouldn't have the opportunity to ask all of my burning questions. It's been frustrating that we've had to go all these months with so few details, and then this appt. happened so fast and since I thought we were coming back for the surgery another time, I didn't think to get more details while I had the surgeon's attention. For example, he mentioned he'd be using bone to build the arch. Bone from where? One of the possibilities the podiatrist mentioned involved taking bone from the heel to insert into the arch. This option had the longest recovery. {Yikes!} Some of the other options involved using plastic or metal hardware. The surgeon didn't say anything about that. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to make a list of questions for our pre-op appt. on Monday. Like how long he's going to be in the hospital, how long is the surgery, how long will he be off his feet, etc.

Whatever will we do with a week in Hawaii while we wait?

Thoughtful Birthday Surprises

Going to the post office is usually a highlight in my day. Well, only when I'm expecting something. Which I am, a lot of the time, since we have to do a lot of online shopping over here. I think I've already told you about the yellow slips of cardstock they put into our mailboxes when we have a package (dubbed, 'golden tickets'). When I get one in my box, I usually know all the possible things it could be. Birthdays and Christmas can yield unexpected surprises, though.

The Lovely Lisa and I usually exchange Bday gifts. She has impeccable taste that can be difficult for me to match. I always know whatever she sends me will be a great find, and this year was no different. I can't wait to try out my new silicone baking mats...and the personalized paisley post-its and other stationary is just my style. (She is the stationary guru, I swear.)

I got another package that was totally unexpected, however. It was from another one of my awesome friends, Michelle. Here's a picture of her and her beautiful family, which I unabashedly stole from her Facebook:

I met Michelle here on Okinawa. She was my visiting teacher, and I can't even begin to tell you how lucky that made me. Let me tell you when I first fell in love with her, though. I didn't know her that well, just a bit in passing at church. Then her husband was called to be our congregation's Branch President. When she got up that first Sunday to bear her testimony, she had known about the calling for about a week, I guess (it's always kept a surprise for the rest of the congregation until it's announced). She got up, and choking back the emotion said "It's been so awesome praying for you guys all week" and went on to tell us about the love she felt for us. Emotion came over me like a warm blanket and I couldn't fight back the tears, because I could feel how much she really meant it. She had me at "we've been praying for you guys," but went on to demonstrate her love and selflessness in so many ways. I would seriously hear her name at every turn, in relation to all kinds of people from church...those her age and not, with kids her kids' ages and not...and from all different military communities (which, for better or worse, can tend stick to "their own kind").

She helped me in ways that only she even knows about. It was like she was an angel sent to me just when I needed her (even though it was obvious I wasn't the only one she was serving). It was small things like "I remembered this awesome poetry writing book for middle schoolers I used while I was teaching, I thought you might like it for Jake" to sharing good finds in "hippie food," as she calls it...which we shared a love for...to helping me process really gut-wrenching stuff that nearly consumed me (which I won't blog about, because...mostly, they're not really my stories to tell here).

So it should not have surprised me when she went out of her way to send me this little surprise:



I ripped open the box while I was in the post office parking lot. As soon as I saw this little, gold bag...I knew what it was...and the tears started to flow. Luckily, I came to my senses and grabbed the camera...



And when I saw the tell-tale, criss-cross pattern on the top, it was confirmed...



They were my favorite (favorite isn't even strong enough of a word) DARK chocolate, Key-lime truffles from Godiva. Three of them. I don't know if I can express how much I love these things. They are like the perfect flavor combination. I buy Cliff a $25 box of dark chocolate truffles for every gift-giving occasion, JUST so I can have the two of these that the box contains (secret's out now, I guess. Sorry honey).

But the sweetest thing is, Michelle remembered this little detail, just from me mentioning it one time...and went out of her way to send me such a small, but special thing....JUST like all the thoughtful things she did for me while she was here...which is really why I was crying...because it reminded me of this...and how much I miss her. You know, moving is part of military life...we just do it and accept it...look at it as collecting friends along the way...but in this case, I felt like we were robbed because their orders here got cut WAY short, and now they are back in the USA. It felt like we were just getting started...but something tells me we'll be friends forever, just the same. I've learned to never say never, because I've been proven wrong before. We just may end up in the same town again someday. Aloha 'oe...until we meet again, my friend. I want to be just like you when I grow up.

Friday...The Good...The Bad...The Awesome...and The Suckish

Let's start with the suckish, shall we? Suckish=1:30 AM musters for 6:30 flights. Seriously?



Put your hips into it, honey. Isn't it sweet that Jake wanted to be woken up to take Dad to the drop-off point? I thought it was. We dropped him off and went back to bed. At least we had that luxury...it was going to be a long day+ for Cliff.



Good=Kids headed out for a night of branch youth conference, including sleeping on tatami mats and climbing on poles and ropes.

Bad=Patrick having to miss out because it's the performance weekend for his musical.



Good=Just Troy and I getting an opportunity to spend time together. I offered to take him to dinner, since it was just the two of us. He chose Tony's, since he'd never been. We hadn't actually taken any of the kids there yet. It's just been our date night thing. This is just to show you that although I always get the same thing, there are other things on the menu. Especially if you like Spam.



Which Troy does. I do not. This is a Hawaiian omelet. It had spam and pieces of cream cheese in it. And Kimchee on the side, with the obligatory scoop of macaroni salad and a bonus Spam riceball. Would that be Spamnigiri? Anyway, he said it was great.



Good=Garlic shrimp twice in the same week. I think this makes up for the less than awesome birthday, actually.



Awesome=Patrick on stage. This was his first musical. We are going to see it tomorrow...and I will tell you all about it.