Patrick Far East Music

So many "Far Easts" were canceled this year due to the nuclear crisis. (Equivalent to State or Regionals back in the USA.) Remember that exchange trip to Yoron Island that Jake participated in last year? That was canceled this year as well. It was all very sad for so many kids...most of them Japanese kids from the mainland.

Patrick was so relieved when they ended up rescheduling Far East Music after it had been canceled. We were thrilled he had the opportunity to go. It was in Korea...which is turning out to be the go-to destination for Far Easts lately. Something to do with the facilities at the Olympic Village being perfect for it.

Patrick didn't take many photos because "it gets tiring remembering to take them" (like this is even ABOUT what he wants or feels).



Which is just one more example of why I am grateful for Facebook's tagging feature. Thank you, Patrick's friends!

I am also grateful for YouTube. I know this is kind of long, but if you like voices that stir the soul, I recommend you watch it. They did a fabulous job. I think I can pick out Patrick's voice, but that's probably just a mom thing. You can see him toward the middle of the pack.



Now this is one that Patrick did manage to capture on his camera. It is hilarious! Not the girls rehearsing...they were adorable and talented. I'm talking about when Patrick pans the room and you see the row of guys with their cameras out and mouths hanging open. Not to mention his commentary. Ahhh, teenagers.



And I guess turnabout is fair play. Listen to those girls scream! Of course Patrick is the most animated one, in front with the Members Only jacket.

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.

All this travel is getting old...

I know, it's fun to travel...and normally I love it. Looking back at the past couple of months (and the next few to come) makes me tired, though.

I mentioned Cliff had a conference to go to (in San Diego). Even though I've hated having him away (especially after being gone myself) I am so glad he is having some (relative) down time. This is no boondoggle (it's a combat operational stress conference) but he will get to spend time with some good colleagues, and afterward he tacked on a few days of leave to see good friends.

He made sure to eat at Rubio's for me. And of course he hit In N Out Burger. (Not that we are starved for good restaurants here, but there are just certain American favorites you've gotta get while the gettin's good!) He says he misses me and hated being alone in the hotel (yeah, what's he going to say?!) but hopefully he's taking advantage of the serenity.

I shamelessly stole these photos off of his friend Dave's Facebook page:


These guys all graduated high school together. Cliff, Dave and Gerry. Dave's mom kept Cliff fed consistently as a young man (their nickname for him was "Pobrecito"). I impressed Gerry early on with my tongue-cherry-stem-tying trick. They both gave Cliff the "thumbs up" after Cliff's idea for our fourth date was a Steven Seagal film festival with all of his buddies at his place. Hey, at least they let me have the bean bag. (And in all fairness, our second date was a Tupperware party at my place.) They are good guys and I'm glad Cliff got to spend some rare time with them.



They even went back to their alma mater.



Can you believe a high school in Anaheim, California lets a couple of middle-aged men just wander around the campus? Apparently, there was a basketball game going on. I'm sure they just thought they were a couple of dads, hehe.



He also got to see Sterling (no pics, though) and Sterling's parents, Bob and Gretchen. We love them so much...they are just golden people. I'm totally jealous he got to spend time with them, hopefully it will be my turn soon.

OK, honey...enough fun now, COME HOME!

He made it there...he can make it anywhere...

We arrived home late last night, and were headed back to the airport this morning to meet Patrick's flight from New York City (with an overnight stop in Korea). We were looking so forward to being back under one roof as a family again. From the sound of Mrs. Deakins' nightly emails, they had the experience of a lifetime and we couldn't wait to hear about it. (I'll share as many details as I can pry out of him in another post.)



Mrs. Deakins is a saint or a super hero, or some of both. I can't believe she pulled this off. I love this video...how she tries to convince us she left them all there...and that Patrick just wants to see Jake (who was so tired after his ordeal yesterday, he wasn't eager to make another trip back to the airport...not to mention, we won't be able to track down a wheelchair for him until Monday).



There were lots of smiles...



Lots of hugs...



It was a great thing to be part of.



This might even be enough incentive to get Coree to take drama next year. NYC is her dream trip. I guess time will tell if Mrs. Deakins is up for a repeat.



I know it's blurry, but had to include this shot of Mrs. Deakins hugging Patrick. Mostly because it shows she still likes him after ten straight days of having him in her care.

It will be so nice to get our family back to some sort of normalcy. As normal as we can be in this kind of crazy life we lead.

Patrick on the Today Show!

Oh my goodness, they really DID make it on the Today Show!


That's my baby's tongue on National TV!



And I see he purchased an "I heart NY" t-shirt to replace the "I only like NY as a friend" t-shirt I gave him for Christmas.



Here's a clip of the gang chatting with Al. I have watched it over.and.over.

Mrs. Deakins has been sending nightly emails to all the parents, recapping the adventures of the day. In all the other school trips my kids have taken, this has never happened before and I appreciate it so much. It helps me to still feel in the loop, even though I'm not at home, either. Just one more example of why Mrs. Deakins is da bomb! I can't wait to hear all about it from Patrick! I wonder which one of us will get home, first?

Patrick is Headed to Broadway!

After much work, wait and fund raising, the day has finally arrived. Patrick's awesome drama teacher, Mrs. Deakins...has gone above and beyond in planning, coordinating, championing and working miracles to pull off the adventure of a lifetime.

Patrick and fellow drama-geeks will be leaving for NYC (via Korea and SFO) today. I am a bit sad not to be there to see him off at the airport...but the excitement I feel for him makes up for it. The kids will be participating in workshops during the day, seeing Broadway shows at night...and fitting in the sights, too...such as Lady Liberty, FAO Schwartz, etc. They are also going to try to get on the Today Show. Good luck, everyone!



Oh...and I never did get a chance to post this video from Patrick's Far East Drama experience in Korea. One of his talented classmates put it together, and I just can't get enough of it. Lots of good footage of Patrick in it, so I hope you'll check it out.

Museum, Mongolian and Good Fortune

Poor Jake gets so bored. I feel sorry for him...but not so sorry that I relish leaving the room and dealing with this:


You wanna know what's worse? Crawling along in this parking lot, realizing...you missed your turn...and that it would cost you at least an extra thirty minutes of drive time. Awesome. It was about this point that I asked Jake if it would be OK with him if we just stayed in the hotel room the rest of our trip.



Drive with Aloha, my eye. I've got your Aloha, right here!



We finally made it to our destination, The Pacific Aviation Museum.



Pshhh...this map makes it look so much easier.



If only every road led to our destination this way.



What displays they had were very well done, but the museum was much smaller than we imagined.



I mean, this looks like just one wall in Jake's room.



After the aviation museum, we went back to the room to wait for Heidi's call. She had offered to take us to Hickam AFB for Mongolian BBQ tonight. What a beautiful location. (Unfortunately, my camera was not cooperating and would not focus properly...I think because of the steam...but you get the idea.)



Brandon is Jake's age. Jake immediately relaxed and enjoyed visiting with him...and Brandon was so considerate...all of the kids were...in helping Jake with anything he needed. It was such a lovely evening and I'm so grateful to Heidi for making the effort...with 6 of her kids!



Oh...and I can't make this stuff up. This was the fortune from my cookie. While not actually a fortune by definition, I think it was pretty apropos, don't you? I know I will never forget Heidi's kindness.

Happy Birthday Patrick!

Guess who's 17 today?

While missing birthdays is commonplace for Cliff, the closest I've come to missing one of the kids' birthdays is having a can't-miss event scheduled the same night. One more reason to not like being here.

I told Patrick we'd celebrate when we're all together again...and Cliff offered to take him out tonight AND when Jake and I return. Turns out, Patrick made plans of his own with actual cool people. I guess it's better that I'm here and not subject to such rejection first-hand.

(Happy Birthday, Mr. Hotstuff!)

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!

Another Feb Bday

Wow, there are lots of February birthdays around here. So much awesomeness in the air, I almost can't stand it!


Joy's hubs (also a Chaplain) is in Korea with Cliff, which is a total bummer when it's your birthday, especially. What were we to do? Hit Kokusai St. for some Teppanyaki and tourist fun, that's what!



This is actually the first place Cliff and I went to on date here on Okinawa. We took his boss to the airport the day after Christmas...two days after I arrived on island, and took a detour to Kokusai St. on our way home. I mostly just walked around in shock, with my mouth hanging open, but we did have an awesome lunch here. I thought Joy would probably like it, too.



I was right...she loved it.



What's not to love, right? (Not pictured, garlic rice)



We had lots of fun taking pics with all the cutouts and statues, just like the kids.



And as an added bonus, I found Lychee sorbet! Kokusai St. is now the closest place I've found it (almost an hour away from us) but it's a LOT closer than the next closest place I've found it...Tokyo. I'll take it. Have you ever had it? If you get a chance, eat some. It's pure heaven.



Peace out.

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.

The Best Little Theater in Town

Let me start by saying I was NOT at all in favor of Patrick participating in this POPs (Pacific Okinawa Players) musical when he presented the idea back in December. It's not that I have anything against POPs...not at all. Love me some community theater. But just not with everything else he has on his plate and the craziness that is our normal family life. I thought he was nuts. I told him no. He persisted. He went with a friend to the tryouts. They offered him a lead part. I told him he'd have to turn it down. He countered with a proposal that would not involve me having to drive him anywhere, ever. He'd have rides with a friend on the way there, and another family on the way home, and he'd do his homework in seminar period at school and when he wasn't on stage at practice and he'd still get all his chores done and keep up his As and Bs at school and yadda, yadda, yadda. I knew better. I knew it was never as easy as it looks on paper. Two hour practices every week night? Insanity. But against my better judgment, I let him accept the part.



This meant, he'd start his days at 5 AM to get ready for Seminary. Then after school, he'd have (fill in the blank here with Madrigal Dinner/Talent Show/Far East Drama Competition) practice, depending on what month it was...until 5 PM. Then, he'd eat a sandwich or something on his way to his 6-8 PM play practice. Then, he'd get home anywhere from 8:30 to 9, do whatever homework he didn't finish, and go to bed and repeat. M-Th nights, for two months. Oh, and did I mention he also was trying to earn money for his drama trip to NYC over Spring break? Yep. So, he had to squeeze in odd jobs between the cracks, too.



The whole "You'll never have to drive me anywhere ever" clause? You can guess how long that lasted. About a week. While Jeff's mom was completely awesome and did take him along with her son, from their after school practices to POPs practice, the rides home fell through right away. With 3 of us taking night classes, and practices rotating from Kadena to Foster, it made for some frustrating logistics. There were times when I wished for a time machine so I could go back to that night and say, "HECK, NO! Final Answer!" He did manage to keep his grades up, although I don't know how. It took a toll on his health...due to lack of sleep, I'm sure.



But as I sat there watching him tonight, I was glad that I said yes. He is good. And I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom...he is REALLY good!



And he was so obviously in his element. From the time he was little, he has loved to perform, and I really think it's when he's at his happiest.



This was his first musical, but he looked like a pro. His vocal abilities have really come a long way. I think show choir has been great for him.



The show was way too short. We knew it was a short show, but it really went by too quickly. I was sorry when it was over.



Some of these kids were just adorable! There was one boy that (as Coree puts it) sounded so inconvenienced by having to say his lines. I wasn't sure if it was part of his character, or just his nature, but it was SO cute, whether on purpose or not. That and the part where he was picking out his wedgie while he was delivering his lines, downstage, center. You can't write better stuff than that.



I'll just include a little clip of the curtain call here. I don't have a recording of the performance yet, but someone is getting it to me so that Cliff can see it, too. I'll try to post the link here, but to be honest, I'll probably forget.



"What? Why yes, I'd be happy to give you my autograph..."



And here's Patrick's "adopted" brother, Jeff. In the program bio, Patrick wrote that he was Jeff's white brother...among other "Patrick-isms." To be honest, I'm surprised they printed what he had to say, because it was not the usual, professional, "I'd like the thank God and my parents" fare. It was hilarious, for sure...but just not typical. Patrick is nothing if not original.



"Well I didn't get the lead...but I got the guy!" (Line from the play...not real life.)



And look at this little mini me! Isn't he a doll?



I love drama kids. They are totally awesome.



"Are we that awesome? Yes...yes, I think we are."



I love these kiddos...they are each amazing for different reasons. This experience reminded me that I need to be more of a cheerleader and less of a dream-killer. Not that I didn't have some valid arguments. Even so, if I remember correctly, it was me years ago, who gave the advice to Cliff (who was lamenting how hard it was going to be to go to full-time grad school at night to try to become a chaplain, while being a full-time Marine by day and trying to pay some attention to his family in there somewhere): "Name one worthwhile thing in life that's not hard."

With all of the hassles, this was still one of the most worthwhile things I've watched in a long time. Congratulations, Patrick. I'm excited to see where your talent and perseverance take you.