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!

Oh Yes It's Navy Night, And the Feelin's Right....

Seven years ago, while we were out to dinner in Park City on the Monday eve of Chaplains Seminar with the Whitakers, we talked about how fun it would be to have "Navy Family Night" with any of the Navy Chaplains and their wives there for the conference. The next year we made it happen. Its beginnings were humble, as our numbers were small and not everyone was always able to attend, but it has grown into something very special.

We look forward to this night every year, but this year, Cliff and I were committed to do the VIP tour and dinner, so we thought we'd miss out entirely. Lucky for us, most everyone was also available on Tuesday night, and they wanted to wait for us. We love these guys!


We were back at Buca for the 3rd year running. They always treat us so well. We outgrew that little room at the Olive Garden years ago, PF Chang's was just too loud, this is perfect.



Each couple orders a dish, and we pass them around and around the table until everyone gets a taste of whatever they like. You're drooling, aren't you?

For the second year in a row, we used Jen's "speed dating" suggestion, and every 15-20 minutes, we picked up all our stuff and moved 2 places to the left. This way we all had the opportunity to visit with everyone, instead of just the people seated near us.

We had a record number of candidates this year, and following Chaplain Vance's suggestion, we treated them all to dinner to give their student budgets a rest.

Once again, I got pictures of all the lovely (new and familiar) faces around the table:



New



Familiar. Still rocking the student thing.



More familiar student faces.



Familiar. Still plugging along. Getting close.



Familiar. Very Familiar. Anyone on the board reading this? Rick is ready.



Familiar Fleeties. The wives couldn't make it. =^( We missed you ladies!



Our partners in crime



Hubba Hubba



More, awesome partners in crime.



Lovely old timers ;^)



Perfectly seasoned. We're so thrilled they came back to join us. They make retirement look good. I light up inside when I see these two. He was our Chaplain before Cliff was a Chaplain.


And of course, the outtakes:






We're already looking forward to next year...hoping some more of you will be here as full-fledged Chaplains, and that those who couldn't come due to operational commitments, etc. will be able to join us, too...and not just so we have more ways to split the bill.

Seminar farewell

Unfortunately, things didn't go quite as planned on Tuesday morning. We were supposed to drive the Chief and his Aide to the airport and then join the Chaplain Seminar, already in progress. But, the rental car place gave us one of those fancy, keyless cars. You use this plastic fob to start it. Well, that's all great...unless the battery dies...then you can't even open the dang car. So, there we stood in front of the Marriott, waiting for Cliff to pull up...when he walked up instead and broke the news. I felt terrible, but they were both SO gracious. Luckily, there was a cab waiting for a fare RIGHT in front of us, so they were whisked away to the airport, and Cliff and I walked over to the Church Office Building.

We listened to more wonderful speakers (can't wait to get the CDs and listen again), we ate lunch at the cafeteria in the basement, held an unauthorized Navy spouse breakout session at Deseret Book's new flagship store during the panel discussions (sshhhh!) and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye. (Boohoo!)

Felila is one of my favorite people on this whole planet. She is so positive and all around smiley. She also makes me want to be a better person.



It's always a race to see who we can get pics with before people rush off to catch planes, pick up kids, etc....or they just plain kick us out of the room.



This picture was ten years in the making. Ten years ago, we met both of these couples at our initial training and setting apart here in SLC. I had no idea at the time that the gathering of just six people would be the beginning of such treasured friendships.

Sometimes (like every year) I look around to my left and my right and think, "How on earth did I get here to be in company like this?" It is a blessing I don't deserve, but am so grateful for.

Chaplain Spouse Luncheon and VIP Tour

I love this view from the front as we were waiting for everyone to filter in. Talk about a gathering of incredible women. It's always such a treat to see familiar faces, and new ones, too. This is in the Relief Society building, and the feeling in here is like a little piece of heaven. I love the pics of past Relief Society Presidents on the wall.



They tried something a little different this year, and after we were all seated, they had us stand around the room and then had all the chaplain candidate spouses fill in the middle section...so we could surround them with our love. Isn't that a cool idea? We have a record number of applicants right now, and it was fabulous to contrast with years past.



Then we were called to fill in the other sections, one branch at a time. Here are some of my Air Force sisters. Lookin' good, ladies. Our Navy section was looking pretty strong, I must say. But I was too busy humming "Anchors Aweigh" to think to get a pic.



The luncheon was the usual chicken salad in a half of a V-cut cantaloupe, rolls, pink punch and a fruit-topped cookie for dessert. This year, I was OFF the speaking docket, so I enjoyed it much more than last year. Amy did a fantastic job with her talk, and so did Sheri Dew. I was so excited to see her again.

Right after lunch, we had to head off to perform our escort duties for our guest of honor. The Navy Chief of Chaplains did such a great job with his message earlier this morning. He has come to Okinawa a couple of times when he was the deputy, and we just really enjoyed getting to know him. His Aide was just as fabulous. We felt very lucky to have the opportunity to tag along on the VIP Salt Lake City tour with them.

We took them to see welfare square, including in depth looks at the Bishop's Storehouse, Deseret Industries, the cannery, dairy, Church Employment, and the Humanitarian Operations. Then we headed over to the Family History Center for a tour of that facility, even getting to learn about some of our guests' family history. Then we crossed the street to Temple Square. It was sprinkling by then, but we didn't mind.



We started at the Visitor Center, where these Sister Missionaries took great care of us and answered our questions. It was so fantastic just to sit here and look at the Christus. It was hard to want to leave.



Sitting in the Tabernacle was great, too. I hadn't been in here since I was a kid. Even with the impressive Conference Center, this Tabernacle is still amazing.




Intently listening to our tour guides...



Here's some more Tabernacle photos:










The Assembly Hall



I love this statue. One of the General Authorities on the tour did a fabulous job briefly telling the story of the handcart companies. He got very emotional, so naturally, I followed suit.



We finished our dinner with an incredible lamb dinner at the Joseph Smith Building. It's been years since I've been inside, and it was more breathtaking than I remember.



I'm so glad someone suggested we get this picture. I think it will be one of my favorites.

Unfortunately, we have to take them back to the airport tomorrow. It all went by way too quickly. SO grateful to have had the opportunity, though.

Conference Weekend 2010

Before we knew it, Saturday morning was here and it was time to join the throngs of Saints headed to the Conference Center. We stayed at the Downtown Marriott this year, so we were the closest to the Conference Center we'd ever been. Made for a nice leisurely walk, actually...


And right across the street from the Conference Center is about where the protesters start...



Sometimes, I look at these signs and think..."WHO are they preaching to, exactly? What do they THINK WE believe?!"



It is a bizarre phenomenon.



I've also made some other observations over the years:

(1) If my church was represented by preachers shouting at people and calling them fiends and serpents of the eternal pit..and telling them they were going to Hell because they have obviously pledged their soul to Satan by wearing a military uniform (yes, these are actual examples we have encountered) I would RUN...not walk, the heck out of there.

(2) If someone wants me to listen to them, they are sure as heck not going to succeed by shouting insults at me...or my husband.

(3) If this were ANY other church in America...this would be on the evening news and there would be such outrage over it. Can you imagine this happening in front of a synagogue or a cathedral in the USA? But yet it happens at every. single. conference. Every six months, they are there, exercising their right to free speech as we exercise our freedom of religion. I guess we should count our blessings it's no longer legal to kill us, at least?



Still, it was such a lovely day...and so wonderful to see so many beautiful, smiling faces...



From all around the world...



And ESPECIALLY this one. (Chika-bow-WOW!)



These pictures were taken over the course of Saturday and Sunday's sessions. Saturday night, Cliff picked up the Navy Chief of Chaplains and his aid. We they were VIP guests for this year's Chaplain Seminar. We brought them to the morning session of General Conference on Sunday.



This little platform is where many wedding pictures are taken, with the temple in the background. This family was adorable, trying to get everyone looking in the same direction for the camera. I couldn't help stealing my own shot of them.



This is the other side of the Conference Center as we are headed over to the Church Office Building for lunch on Sunday. I always wondered how they fed all of the "official" people, who are stuck in town, between sessions. Since we were escorting a VIP, and therefore honorary "official" people for the day, we got to see for ourselves. We were fed in the Church cafeteria...only instead of having tons of choices like we do on a weekday during the Chaplain Seminar, they just hand you a plate of food. It was Thanksgiving dinner*. Yum.



One last shot. This one was taken on our way back to the hotel on Sunday. Just a dude and his dog (in sunglasses) out for a typical, Sunday drive.


*Since this talk had just been delivered in the morning session, there were plenty of Jack-rabbit jokes...even from our VIPs.

Chaplain Seminar Banquet

Like I said, we get to our hotel room Thursday around dinner time. We were so exhausted, and as I mentioned in the last post, the altitude had done mean things to my feet, so I HAD to lay down. We decided we'd just nap for a couple of hours and then go to dinner. Who were we kidding? Neither of us had the strength. We found ourselves setting goals like, "We'll get up for the last half hour of dinner in the concierge lounge." That didn't happen. Then, "We'll just go down and eat in the restaurant about 8." Neither of us moved. Then, "They serve dessert in the concierge lounge until 10...we'll go up at 9:30." Nothing.

So, we slept until about 3:30...and we were both wide awake and starving. Finally, at 4:30, we got up, showered, and were waiting at the lounge when they opened for breakfast. Because of our escorting responsibilities this year (which I'll go into later) we didn't have as much free time as usual...and that's usually very little, anyway. Sine we wouldn't be able to do our usual Sunday dinner at my dad's (we wouldn't really get to spend any time with them until the following weekend) we decided to see if he and Garrie were available for lunch. Lucky for us, they were. They aligned their lunch breaks so they could both meet us at Applebee's, and we had a very nice time. It was so great to see them and laugh with them.

All too soon, we had to head back to SLC to get ready for the opening banquet of the Chaplain Seminar. Let me tell you, though...it is the most awesome night. We all gush about how it's our favorite, because we know we will be seeing so many people we love, for the only time of the year we get to be with them. My heart just skips a beat when I see lovely faces like these:


Let me tell you, these women are incredible. I love them so much.



There's never enough time to say all we want to. They always end up shooing us off the 26th floor at the end of the evening.



Some of our dearest friends. Oh how I love these people. We will be friends forever. We've been in this together from the beginning. We are raising our kids together, even though across the miles.

It was a very special reunion this night, though, because before this, we didn't know if we'd be seeing Brandon here again. He suffered a brain hemorrhage several months ago, and his chances of survival were so slim. We had braced ourselves for the reality of this, while spending many hours pleading with our Father in Heaven to spare him...trying to have the courage to accept whatever His will, but at the same pleading that it please, please, please be His will that Brandon live. (I know, that's weenie, double-talk...but there you go. A little glimpse into the depth of my faith sometimes.)

While he was in ICU, I woke up every morning and the first thing I did was check Facebook for an update (which Amy was SO wonderful to provide to us almost every day, even while she was in the throws of dealing with all of this and their five children). Some days I was jubilant and hopeful, some days I pleaded, "No! You CAN'T take him...please!" But I knew that sometimes it is His plan that people die. Even when they have a loving spouse who will be devastated, even when they have little kids who need them. I've seen it in my own family. I've given up trying to understand why...but even in my lack of understanding, I know that Heavenly Father loves every one of us and uses all circumstances for our good. Still. I just couldn't believe this was what was supposed to happen. We are so grateful that Brandon has made a miraculous recovery. Grateful beyond words.

So, I'm sure you can understand why, when I saw them, all I could do was hug them and weep. I can scarcely think of them without getting emotional. We are blessed with some fantastic friendships, that is for sure...and it is through the trials which we share...even if only from a distance...that those bonds have grown stronger.

Like I said, they had to chase us out of the banquet room...we could have gone on for hours...



Here we are, ears popping with our rapid 26 floor decent. Felila is telling us to get ready to jump at the bottom (which was a sight to see...a bunch of grownups in uniforms and dresses). I tried to take a pic, but we were just a big blur, darn it.

Tomorrow, General Conference will begin, and in a blink, four days will have passed and we'll be saying our goodbyes once again. It's so unfair. Every year I try to soak in every moment, to see if somehow I can make it last longer by being more conscious . It doesn't work, dang it!