Go Honduras Adventures! --- Day 1

Well, it's time to revive the blog for quite a few reasons.  First, I would like to write about my time in Honduras with my Campus View family while it is somewhat fresh on my mind.  Also, I am going to have to write out my thoughts if I am ever going to process moving to Houston and working at the University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center!  My name is Jessica, and I am MD Anderson.  That's how I am supposed to introduce myself now.  :)

So, I will start off with what I while in Santa Rosa de Copan.  I only wrote for a few days, and then I got so busy that I either was too tired to write or just didn't have the time.  Here's what I wrote so far:
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7/12
Oddly enough I have not been nervous or jittery about anything at this point.  I guess I have been keeping busy enough not to have any time to reflect... maybe that would make me nervous.  I guess we'll see by the time I have finished writing.

Left Athens.  Left America.  Entering San Pedro Sula.  Will come back to America.  Back to Griffin.  Leaving for Houston.  Current plan?  I guess it is a permanent move.  We'll see.

I don't think my lack of nervousness has anything to do with the fact that I don't care, because I do.  I hope it has everything to do with the fact that God's plan is THE plan, and He cares about me and will protect me.  With all the work I have had to do for everything, I feel prepared.  When I left for Guatemala, I was terrified.  Maybe this is old hat.

What should I expect for Houston?  Big.  That's all I can think about.  I can see myself tearfully driving down the road, a dull ache in my stomach.  But not yet.  I think the ache is more for my parents.

Will I like it?

7/12, Arrival in San Pedro Sula

 

 


 When I get to international customs on arrival anywhere, that is about the point where I get tired of the airport.  We waited about an hour in line to get processed, and by that point, someone from our group has finally made it through to pick up all of the luggage at the baggage claim.  At the terminal entrance we meet John -- for all intensive purposes, our "tour guide" for today.  (Really, he is in charge of transportation for Mission Upreach.)  We are waiting for someone to arrive on another flight, so we exchange money with one of the employees of the terminal.  I trade $40 for 800 limpias, and this is around the time when I realize that there are some people in the midst of our large group that nobody recognizes.  Did they come with John?

Well, I guess I'm gonna find out...

So I won't go into the details of this conversation, because it just makes me annoyed.  When you ask somebody, "What's your name?" and he responds with "I'm nobody," then that's a pretty good clue that you need to get away from him.  After about two minutes of this, I was able to discern that he wanted money, seeing as he appeared when our group was with the money changer.  Finally, for what seems like decades, I hear Adam say to Bryant, "Go rescue Jessica.. We need to pull her away."  Bryant comes around and throws his arm over my shoulder, and we walk out of the terminal to load our bags on the bus.

I'm treated to a lunch of a chorizo baleada by Jennifer, who somehow ordered two of whatever she wanted.  The baleada is a giant, freshly made tortilla that usually has some type of meat, eggs, sour cream, and black beans within it.  It is a common food staple in Honduras.  This meal cost $3.25 in American dollars, including a giant bottle of water.



A baleada, from Wikipedia

"Me gustaria un agua, por favor," I say to the lady at the kiosk.  She gives me a questioning look, and points to the bottle of water.  "Yeah," I say, and I pay for it.  I guess my Spanish-speaking skills are pretty funky.

After lunch we get on the bus.  There is really no way to describe the entire scenery in writing.  At least I don't have the capability to do that.  Here are some things that stood out to me:

• Magnificent mountains covered by luscious greenery, spotted here and there by little towns with huts made of mud or tin.  No building looks like another, and they range from open mud shacks in the country to flats in towns.
• While driving through the country, you occasionally pass a "true" house, meaning one made with stone or brick, with glass windows and a trim land surrounding it.  Usually, houses are just surrounded with trash or brush... or chickens and cows.
• One of the striking differences is the construction of a mud or tin flat surrounded by trash and barefoot children, but with a satellite dish fixed on top of the flat.
• And then there are the roads.  These deserve a whole paragraph or two for themselves.

So.  The roads.  Imagine riding down a gravel road on a car.  Sometimes it can be pretty frustrating and bumpy, right?  Now add steep hills, potholes, places where the road tried to be pavement, and really lax rules as to what side you are on, especially when passing.  Oh.  And you do this all on an old school bus, which we stopped for because we needed a new tire.  We took four hours to drive about eighty-five miles to Santa Rosa de Copan.  All of our luggage was strapped on top of the bus, and a couple of hours down the road, we hit a violent downpour.  Luckily, most of our luggage did not get wet, as far as I know.

Now, I don't mean to be all dramatic about the bus.  To be honest, it is what I expected.  The roads in Guatemala are the same.  I wanted to paint this scene, because guess who was adamant about riding the bus?  (Some road in a smaller bus with air conditioning.)  Miss Lillie.  She sat in the front seat of the bus the entire trip and would not have it any other way.  Quite impressive for someone who is 82.  At 82, I will be sticking to a comfortable 10-mile radius of my house, being driven around in the nice fluffy backseat of my cadillac.

I think we arrived at Hotel Elvir at about 8 pm.  We rushed to take the luggage off the top of the bus and then stowed it in our rooms.  We met with the Mission Upreach team during dinner, which was potatoes, veggies, spicy steak (I think), and tortillas, with a sweet strawberry smoothie.  Phil Waldron talked a little while, followed by safety statements from Donna, who met with each team leader about what to expect.

After cleaning up, pretty much everybody crashed.  If you think about it, we spend around 16 hours traveling (left for the airport at 6 am, Honduras is 2 hours behind us, then we arrived at the hotel at 8 pm).  Everybody rested well!  Hotel Elvir is quite nice.  I felt like I was on vacation because we hadn't really done any work yet.
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 OK... I think that is enough for tonight.  I think I will take it a day at a time so I don't have extremely long posts.  Hope you enjoy the next week of reminiscing about Mission Upreach!  :)

Dream Radar

Man!  My brain.  I just don't know anymore.  And forget me just posting regularly.  Apparently, that's not my thing.

What is wrong with my brain?  Maybe I don't release enough creative streaks when I'm awake.  Maybe it is the sleeping during the day routine that is turning everything upside down and inside out.  Here are two dreams that are so bizarre that I had to write them somewhere so I can laugh when I read it 10 years down the road.

Star Trek, Family Edition: The Never-ending Frontier

I start this dream by waking up in a department store.  Luckily, Sabrina the Wal-mart Witch (see previous post) is not the star of this fiasco.  I am, so somehow, I have some control of this environment of random events.  When I wake up, I am aware that I am not wearing underwear.  As my high school Latin teacher would say, "Semper ubi sub ubi"-- "Always wear underwear."  I am wearing clothes, however.  Just no underwear.

I somehow know that my underwear is somewhere in the department store, and I have to find it.  For what seems like hours, I search and search until I find my underwear carelessly thrown over one of the clothing racks.  After I put on my underwear, these two guys show up and taunt me about not wearing underwear.  I am also aware of the fact that they are not wearing underwear either, and they have not been able to find it in days, so I taunt them back.  In the midst of all of the taunting, my piano teacher, Ms. Annette, pops out of nowhere and says, "It's time for your piano lesson!  Today, you will be doing a duet with this guy," and she points at one of the taunters.  A full-length keyboard pops out of the wall with a music piece sitting on the mantle.  Before both of us sit down on the bench, I glance at the wall mirror above the piano.  I am fascinated by the fact that a piece of my skull is missing on my forehead, and I can see my brain.  Apparently, I have a head injury.

My reverie is broken by Ms. Annette saying, "I only have the middle section of this music, so you both will create the beginning and end together as you are playing."  This seems like an incredibly easy task to both of us, even though we had the hardest time finding our underwear.  We play the piece together perfectly and in it's entirety.  Once we are finished, I am beamed back up to my spaceship.

Several things happened when I was being beamed up.  My head is repaired, and now I can remember why I was in the department store in the first place.  My spaceship had crash-landed on a hostile alien planet several days ago, and during one exploration mission, I was captured by the natives, who look just like humans.  During the struggle, I suffered a head injury, but I was deemed healthy enough to live and be placed in an experiment where all of the participants had to find their underwear in the vast store.  Unfortunately, my underwear has a tracking device so my crew can find me, but since I didn't have them on... well, I had just been lost for weeks.  When I put my underwear on, my tracking device reactivated, and they found me and beamed me back to the spaceship.

Well, no wonder we had been stuck on this evil planet for forever!  I look at my crew, and it consists of my grandmother (Mammaw), my brothers (Bill and Mike), and my cousin (Tesse).  And I'm captain.  Hopeless.

While my hopeless yet awesome crew is getting ready for takeoff, I go down to the basement of our spaceship, which looks exactly like Mammaw's house on the inside.  In the basement, I begin talking to our favorite allies, the intelligent and invincible colony of mice that have made our spaceship their home.  We can't get rid of them, because they are the descendants of all those lab mice that have had all those experiments performed on them.  They eventually acquired perfect immunity to everything, so nothing kills them.  They are friendly, however, so we don't mind having them in our basement.  While I'm down there, the ship begins to take off.  "Bye guys!  Wish us luck!" I say as I run up the stairs toward my captain's chair.

I strap myself in, and we take off.  Within a few seconds, we reach the boundary between the atmosphere of the planet and space.  "Yes! It worked this time!" I exclaim, but too soon.  The ship begins to fall, and we crash land in the middle of a hostile alien metropolis.

"Jarvis, why did we crash?" I ask.  Jarvis is the computer system for our spaceship, and yes, it's the same Jarvis that Ironman created.  And Jarvis responds with the same voice that he has in the Ironman movies:

"I could not find a portal, and the twilight was not the right shade of lavender."

???

I pretend to understand what he means, and just move on with the next order of business.  Apparently, every time we fail to get off this awful planet and crash, Jarvis must take a day to repair the ship.  The way he repairs the ship is lethal to humans, so he teleports us to a random location on the hostile alien planet to fend for ourselves until the ship is in working order.  This is how I got captured last time.

Jarvis teleports us to the center square of a small and seemingly quiet alien town.  We look around for a few seconds, and decide that this was a good choice.  It seems safe.  Then, our dreams are shattered as a giant tank enters the town square.  It attacks the local Chuck E. Cheese, and then barricades it, readying for battle.  We decide that we don't want to be in the middle of whatever is going to happen, so we try to break in to the local post office.  Tesse transforms herself into the one-year-old version of herself, and climbs through the mail slot to unlock the door.  While she is doing this, Mike teleports himself inside.  (I don't know where Billy is... I think he got captured.)  Mammaw and I are like, "What are you waiting for?  Get us inside???"

While he is struggling to unlock the door (and yes, he can teleport but can't unlock a door), two buff human-like aliens leave the Chuck E. Cheese and try to capture Mammaw and me.  Mammaw pulls out a rope and hog-ties her alien within seconds.  I, of course, struggle with my attacker.  When I have him tied up, Mammaw and I drag them into the post office, and then the dream ends.

What a cliffhanger.

And now, the next dream.  This one is less detailed.
A Girl Among Lost Boys

The dream starts with me constantly running around with purpose.  Wherever I am, I am not supposed to be there, because it is after hours and all of the lights are off.  It seems to be some kind of building.  There are several lasers, but I know that if I keep moving, they will not set off the alarm.  Movement is key.

After several minutes of running down hallways, up and down stairs, and entering and exiting elevators, the dream changes.  I am now in a vast apartment complex.  I live there, but I can't find my room.  I get on the wrong elevator, and I end up in a deserted part of the complex.  I am suspicious.  It's like in "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" where Harry, Ron, and Hermione accidentally end up on the third floor.  Somebody's watching me.

The dream changes.  Whoever was watching me has convinced me to rejoin high school, except it's like a Japanese anime.  I have a cool uniform on, and the school is more like a mansion.  I have a quick discussion with the principal why I should not take Economics 101.  My classes consist of karate, reading, ballet, and raquetball.  Awesome!  I spend an entire day in these classes, even though ballet was really awful.

The dream changes.  I am now outside of the apartment complex in which I was lost before.  I'm running again.  A group of boys find me and tell me to join them.  I'm lost, and I, for some reason, trust them.  We reach their hideout place in the apartment complex, which is just one of the apartments.  They all take showers and change, and head to the basement of the apartment.  I take a shower, change, and follow them to the basement.  Somehow, I become valuable to them because I know how to flush a toilet.

The basement becomes a beach.  We frolic around in the water in beautiful dresses.  Me and the girls, that is.  I don't know where the boys went.

I am happy because I am at the beach.  The end!

Interesting Facts About Me

Whew!  I have not posted since October!  What happened?  I don't really know, and I am not going to apologize.

I was thinking about myself yesterday morning, which sounds narcissistic.  Whatever.  Then I thought it might be cool to write some things about myself that many people might not know.  So here goes!

1.) My brain is an expert creator of vivid, VIVID dreams.  I have a suspicion of what causes this--antihistamines.  Either it is medication, or it is that my brain never takes a break and really sleeps well, which would be a problem.  When I was 12, I was having dream after dream, all intense, somewhat scary (until I woke up and laughed my butt off), and extremely detailed.  When I stopped taking Claritin, all the dreams stopped.  Now, I take Allegra and I think the same thing is happening again.  For your enjoyment, here are two dreams that my brain has created, one when I was 12 and one that just happened 4 days ago:

When I was 12, I had a dream that I was trapped in our favorite neighborhood superstore with a murderous psychic.  I affectionately like to call this dream "Sabrina the Walmart Witch."  (For my friend who happens to have this name, just remember-- I didn't know you then, so this has nothing to do with you.  I love you.)  I was walking across the Walmart parking lot, and a huge mass of people were leaving (this should have been my first clue to run), including some people in my life who had died recently.  (Yes, this happens a lot in my dreams, too.  People I love come visit, but they are always nice.  They are not cannibalistic zombies.)  I entered Walmart and walked to the back of the store, where there was this woman floating meditation style over a giant king-size bed.  She floated towards me, and I read the name on her Walmart vest-- Sabrina.  "I'm going to give you to the count of ten to run," Sabrina said.  "Of course, it won't matter.  I WILL FIND YOU."  So I ran.  What else could I do?  She appeared at the end of every aisle.  I was doomed.  She was turning each and every shopper into a zombie.  Eventually, I found out that the only place of refuge was the Garden Center.  I reached it, but it was locked.  But man, it was so beautiful inside!  Spiral staircases and vines and everything!  Later in the dream (and man, was it a long dream), my Dad showed up and tried to help me, then he disappeared.  Eventually, I found the entrance, ran out, and fell asleep on the grass in front of the store.  You know, the nonexistent grass...

Four days ago, I had a dream that was probably based on "Xenocide" by Orson Scott Card.  It's the third book in the Ender Quintet ("Ender's Game").  In this book, and intelligent alien race is sort-of threatening to end the human race by leaving a planet called Lusitania.  The alien race carries a virus that is vital to their existence but fatal to humankind.  So, in my dream, I saved the entire human race!  I kept the buggers from leaving the planet by repeatedly pushing a button, which stalled the spaceship.  Each bugger exploded on itself (I don't know why).  As a result, I ran from the space lab when the buggers exploded because some kind of anti-molecule made the entire lab disappear.  When I opened the door to take a look inside there was only a giant white space.  In a split-second, the white space became the most massive gymnasium I had ever seen.  Everyone was happy.  The lab was gone, and they could play basketball for eternity.  I also saved a scientist that almost fell into the white space.

I think I might need to start typing out all of my dreams.  This is good stuff!  :)  Now, on to more interesting facts!

2.) I am terrible at knowing lyrics to songs.  I think I am more interested in the instrumentation behind whoever is singing, but really, I have no excuse to this lack of attention.  Here are some examples:

"Just like a one-winged dove!  Sings the song she's got me singin'!"

Sure she does, you nitwit...

From Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dyin'": "I rode 2.7 seconds on a full named Boo-Man-Shu!"

... What the heck is that?

"Down on the corner, out there in the street... something about a group of boys playin' grab a pit bull and clap your feet!"

Yeah, I'm not really kidding on that one... I'm terrible.

"Don't hang on!  Something something something... test the sands of time!"

I was going to let y'all figure that one out, but it's "Dust in the Wind."  Yeah.  Not even close.

3.) Well, after that embarrassment, I don't know what interesting fact can top that one, but I'll try.  How about back to dreams?  Sometimes, I have a series of dreams that are connected.  That's right--like a TV mini-series.  There was one series that I had from the age of 5 to 12 that I titled "Find Your Grandfather."  Pawpaw died when I was around a year old, but I must have had a really close relationship with him.  The theme of these dreams was pretty simple: I would run around looking for Pawpaw because he was gone.  The first one was in our old house in West Virginia.  I was convinced that the door to his room had disappeared and he couldn't get out.  When I found the secret door and entered his room, he wasn't there.  When we moved to Georgia, apparently my psyche was convinced that he would not be able to find us, because there was another dream where I was convinced he would eventually find our new house.  In another dream, I found his old room in our old house, except it was in the attic in our new house.  In a later dream, our family went on vacation, and I was convinced he had come with us, just that he was... away.  He never appeared in these dreams, just the stuff that he owned.  Now that I think about it, maybe someone was just trying to tell me that he never left.  He's always with me, because I am his granddaughter.

4.) I was saved when I was 12, but I don't think I really believed it.  I think I really started believing when I was 22.  Or maybe I believed since I was 12 out of a childhood obedience?  I don't really know.  All I know is that over a period of 13 years, I seem to know God a lot more and what He wants me to do, or what He wants to do through me.  I bet in some ways, I am still like a baby Christian, but I guess there is always room to grow.

5.)  This is a small interesting fact, but it will make some of you laugh or do a facepalm: I have been driving around without my license for over a month.  I was at Goodwill yesterday, and the lady asked for my license to verify my credit card.  That's when I realized I didn't have it.  I looked through my purse and my bookbag, then I called Mom.  "Wow... you're going to really love this," I said.  "You know how you left your license at the bank and couldn't find it for 2 weeks?  Um... I am your daughter!  I don't know where my license is!" 

So, amongst the laughing-with-ridicule that Mom was doing: "Did you have to take it out to verify something?"

"No... Just today when they asked for my license at Goodwill, and I didn't have it."

"You don't remember?"

"Wait, I have an idea!"  So, I walk to the other bedroom while talking to my mother, open the scanner, and there it was.  "Really???  You have been sitting in the scanner for more than a month???"

 Mom: "BA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.  It's just our female brains!!!!"

Yep.  I'm my mother's daughter.  Proud to be, too!  All it took was talking to her to realize where it was.  And Mom--Just so you know, everybody loves your laugh, especially my friends.  Why?  Because it makes them laugh too.  I love you!

Oh wait!  This was supposed to be about just me!  Mom!  How did you get in here???  I guess I will have to continue this later.  Hope everyone laughed a little!

+ Refreshed and Fully Equipped +

At Life Group yesterday, I was able to bask in the feelings of refreshment that I have been receiving over the past few weeks in a couple of areas in my life.  Thanks to the prayers of this select group of friends, God heard my cries of bitterness, depression, and hurt, and I now feel spiritually full and whole.  I am no longer carrying that burden.  I have regained His arsenal so I can call His name again to those who need it the most.  I am renewed and complete.

Forget my medical scrubs.  I have finally been equipped with the whole armor of God.

Praise Him whose name is Yahweh, the breath of life!

Thank you, Lord, for speaking through me to patients, families, coworkers, and... surprisingly... even physicians!  There's no describing how great I feel when I hear from my coworker friends that those I have been caring for and their families are telling them how good I have been doing in helping their loved ones.  I hear the encouragement of God in all of those words.  He's keeping me going, helping me tell them that He is the one at work here.  The only thing that I am doing is using and playing the instruments.

And physicians, Lord?  Really?  I think you are trying to teach me something here.  I was under the impression that they already had a humungous share of busy-ness on their plates.  To hear "You do well with ten patients" and "Mrs. No Name had many great things to say about you" blows my mind, coming from people who I thought didn't have a minute to spare.  I'm humbled.  I think I judged them too quickly and I need to give them more breathing room.

One friend who is very dear to my heart told me that, "You know, it's great hearing all these things from your life.  You're like the Jessica that I met seven years ago."  At first, I thought "Well, what in the heck have I been doing with my life the past seven years!?!" and had a mild panic episode.  Then, I remembered what I was doing.  I was trying to find His path.  I was learning to hear His voice.  I was learning to love God.

Seven years well spent, shaping who I am today.  I'm more than OK with that.

As the warming rays of summer have past, so has my season of grief.  I'll be prepared when the next one comes, but for now, I will enjoy the crisp, refreshing air of fall--the beginning of a clearer and cooler way of thinking.

Ages of Grief

It's been a long, long time since I've posted.  Sorry about that!  I've been doing a lot of thinking about many different things.  In fact, I wrote something early last month, but I did not feel I could post it here due to HIPAA laws.  It was about my experience with someone I cared for at work, something that didn't mention names but mentioned enough for some to figure out who it was.  I did not want to risk my job over that.

Also, simply put, for the past month and a half, I have been dealing with some pretty heavy feelings.  I have been averaging a death per week at work.  Again, these are things that I can't put into words due to legal reasons, but I don't really think I could anyway.  It has been hard enough to be honest with my friends, to be able to talk about it.  Usually, the response I get is, "You have a really tough job," or "It really takes a gifted/special person to do what you do."  Both of these statements are true.  For some reason, I didn't want to believe either of them.  I wanted to believe that anybody could do what I can do, that I'm an average Joe.  But I've realized that I am not that.  It's ok for me to say that I have been blessed by God and to not sound cocky.

Not only would it be an insult to God to say that I was average, it would be an insult to everyone I know.  I have a friend who helps hundreds of kids a day, kids who are not used to being hugged, and now they are hugging back.  To call her average and say that I could do what she did would be a lie.  She's exceptional.  I have a friend who heals dogs, cats, horses, and probably lizards... everybody's animal babies.  To try to give care to something that can't verbally communicate with you is a gift.  She's exceptional.  I have a friend who is gifted at writing, writing that I can connect with and help validate my feelings.  I don't give her the credit for how well she knows me.  She's exceptional.  My friends are blessed by God, and it's good for them to say that.

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Now that I have gotten what is on my mind at this moment out of the way, it's time for some organized writing.  I would like to focus not on the traditional "Stages of Grief," but what I call the "Ages of Grief." 

Everybody goes through grief differently because of the uniqueness of personality.  Grief can be filled with joy, sadness, or both.  Grief can be long or short.  Grief can happen whether you knew the person closely or you knew them in a professional respect.  You might grieve over loss years after the loss happens.  In summary, grief has many faces and modes, so try to be patient for those who grieve, and don't try to push them to move on when they're not ready.  Now that I have completed that soapbox tangent, let me explain the "Ages of Grief" concept.  I have realized that based on your chronological age, there are certain facets of the grief entity that can be more pronounced.  These facets can be emphasized on your understanding of death and loss and the type of relationship that you have with the deceased.

Readers: Please feel free to reply if you have anything to refute or add.  I would love to consider other ideas since I am writing this to help my understanding of grief.  In this way, I can help others grieve and help them realize that to grieve is to be healthy.

In childhood, grief is defined by the relationship of the child to the deceased and how much the child knows about death.  When I was eight (I think... Mom might tell me I'm wrong), my grandmother died.  Mom had spent about a year coming back and forth between home and my grandmother's home in Pennsylvania to be with her.  I don't remember her funeral service, but I remember being outside, a brother on each side, looking down at a small box covered by a silk drape.  "Why is the box so small?  She can't fit in there," I thought, since I had sense enough not to ask this question out loud.  No one had told me about cremation.  "Why do I have to dress in black?" was another question that kept resonating in my mind.  I didn't cry that day, perhaps because I was so intrigued about the process of it all.  A few months later I started dreaming about her and waking up crying in the middle of the night.  I think for kids, the fact that a loved one is not there and the feeling of missing him or her is how grief expresses itself the most, unless it is a parent who died.  Loss of a primary caregiver must hit much harder because the person who expressed love through safety, support, and need is now no longer there to provide security.

As a teenager and young adult, grief expresses itself as early and heartbreaking loss, whether it is a parent, the loss of one's child, or a significant other such as a spouse.  The person who is grieving might feel "cheated" because the one that he or she lost was active in their lives in a special way.  I have met several adults at my job who are in their late teens and early twenties who lose a mother or father to cancer.  They feel "cheated" because Dad still needed to walk them down the aisle, or Mom was supposed to be there to help them with the first grandchild.  I was too young to remember when Pappaw died, but I'm sure Dad felt this way.  He lost the person he would have gone to with family problems.  Loss during the teenage and twenties years brings on an increased, inherited sense of responsibility to care for one's own family with similar loss.

It is hard for me to describe the process of grief for those aged 30-60s.  Mostly,  I have seen that loss can happen at all angles--loss of a friend, child, spouse, parent, etc.--and many losses can be related to disease, especially cancer.  Also, loss of a loved one is still earlier than what it should be.  I have found that people in this age range find many ways to cope, such as supporting a loved one through the cancer journey by fundraising or advocating for certain organizations.  People in this age range also tend to use technology to share information with other members of the family and friends.  If anybody has any information to share about loss during this age, please share because I know that my conclusions here are incomplete.  One thing I do know is that it seems that no one should have to experience the loss of a child.

For those ages 60s and up, grief is primarily defined by a feeling of loneliness.  Loss of friends and family can be overwhelming.  I don't know how to explain it in eloquent terms, but everyone "just dies of old age," to quote my grandmother.  Loss of a spouse instigates the greatest amount of loneliness, and the loss of friends and family that have "been with you through the ages," such as siblings, adds to that loneliness.  I have often heard the elderly express "I am now by myself" or "I don't have anybody anymore."  It is not hard to believe that when one spouse dies, the other spouse might die a few weeks to months later if the feelings of loneliness are that strong.

To tie this all up in a whole-- again, please be patient and supportive when someone is grieving.  It is very hard to understand what the person might be feeling, but sometimes just listening is the best thing you can do.  Validate their feelings and emotions by saying that it's ok to grieve, and help them through it all.  For what I call my "mini-grief" sessions related to work, it helps me when people listen and pray for me.  When the time comes, someone will do this for you too.

The Blessings of Friends, Family and Food

Hello, everyone!  I know that it has been quite a while since I posted.  Simply put, I was just not feeling it, and why write if you aren't feeling it?  It would certainly be boring and most likely not interesting.

If you are concerned about how my uncle might be doing since I last posted, I talked to him yesterday.  He sounded like himself again.  I went to visit him a week after he left the hospital (he was in the ICU for high blood sugar, muscle breakdown, kidney failure, and pneumonia), and he seemed week and depressed.  I knew it was going to take him a while to get better physically, but I was especially concerned about his depression.  I think it has something to do with forming a new relationship with food.  I helped my grandmother make grocery lists that were diabetic-friendly, and I also found a PDF that included the dietary values of over 40 different fast food restaurants.  I know what you're thinking; fast food is NOT healthy.  However, one can make better choices at typically any fast food place, and my uncle needs to learn about those better choices because he travels for 100% of his job.

Before I left my grandmother's house, I went up to his room and talked to him about food a little.  This seemed to just make him more depressed.  I found out that he seemed to think that he could never eat his favorite foods again (pizza, potatoes, chips, etc.).  I told him that everything was fine in moderation.  Previously, he was eating pizza at least three times a week.  So, he is now working on limiting the foods he likes that might not be so good for him.  As I left his room, I told him that I don't want to ban any foods and that I am on his side.  That cheered him up and he smiled a little.  I'm proud of how hard he is trying.

So speaking of food.  Lately, I have found cooking to be calming, relaxing, and, in general, a mindless activity.  Well, I shouldn't really say mindless.  You have to think about what you are doing.  I guess the correct thing to say would be that it takes your mind off other things.  Gives the old noggin a break.

Today I cooked braised short ribs marinated in wine and select vegetables.  While this was cooking in the oven for two hours, I sauteed a simple squash recipe (which was really supposed to be zucchini, but the grocery store didn't seem to have any).  The ingredients for the squash stir-fry are in the photo above.  Alex had baked Matzo bread that morning, and this is what our late night meal turned out to be:

Sorry... not a really great picture, but you get the idea.

This morning, I went to work for another food get-together with my friends.  It was Mary's last night as a nurse extern, and we were celebrating her extern-ness and the fact that she was staying on with us as a patient care tech until she graduates from nursing school.  Go Mary!  I'm so proud of you.  We had a smorgasbord of food, and had a lot of fun, intermittently interrupted by bed alarms.  I had never tried chicken and waffles together before, but now I understand the appeal.  We also had fruit, cupcakes and other select desserts, and several toppings to go on the waffles.

Now, for my final topic.  (I know--I just want to talk and talk and talk... but I have wanted to talk about so many things at once that I didn't know how to start!  Maybe that is why I have avoided writing.)  This past month, I have been blessed to spend time with some smart, talented, and all-around fun girls.  The four of them are gradually moving into adolescence at different levels, and I have loved having chats with them.  I think I had forgotten what it is like to grow up.  A lot of adults think that most childhood concerns are trivial, but just if you're reading, just think about how being labeled as "trivial" might have affected the person you are now.  If you think about it that way, I think that pretty much NOTHING is trivial in childhood, especially if you are bridging from childhood to tween, or from tween to teen.

So, I would like to brag about four girls that I have gotten to spend time with in July.  Here are my treasured teen and tween friends.

Kelly

Now, I know she probably looks a little scary in this picture, but I took this one of her when we were just about to go into the laser tag arena.  (And no, I am not ashamed of playing laser tag at age 25.)  I think that this picture is totally awesome.  Kelly is quite mature for her age, and she has had to be.  I spent the day with her at Funopolis, and when we sat down for lunch (pizza and fries... YES), she told me about how many surgeries she had been through already, and that she might have to go for one more.  I think that having to be brave has made her wise beyond her years, and I know what you might be thinking.  Sometimes advanced maturity has its pitfalls, but with Kelly, her overall good nature takes the better of the maturity.  I'm glad to know this girl and I admire her.

Tesse (aka Boo-Boo)

Tesse is my first cousin on my Dad's side.  Her Dad (my uncle) was the one who was in the ICU for a couple of days.  Due to the circumstances, her Mom let her come with us to Pennsylvania for the week of July 4th.  Tesse is extremely smart.  She channels her ingenuity through arts and crafts.  Some of her drawings are just fantastic.  I hope she gets to go to art school someday.  She also loves animals.  (The dog in the picture is Clover, a mischievous year-and-a-half old chocolate lab puppy.)

Samantha (aka Sam-Sam)

Sam-Sam is my oldest first cousin (on my Mom's side).  I remember what she was like when she was a baby.  Sam is quite reserved, but when she shares her heart with you, it is beautiful.  She is going into high school this year, and she wants to go to vocational school and study cosmetology.  I enjoyed being with her because she is in that delightful transition phase from tween to teen.  She is obsessed with boys, especially Justin Bieber.  I don't know if she knows this (and she would probably be aggravated with me if she did know), but I stepped into the doorway of her room while we were there and looked around.  (Don't worry... I didn't touch anything, Sam.)  Her room made me smile.  Scattered across the room were favorite stuffed animals.  She still has a few dolls around, but then on the right side of her room are three giant posters of (who else?) Justin Bieber, right next to a movie poster of "Charlotte's Web."  Sam's growing up.  Soon enough, she will be going to college and I will be thinking, "Where has the time gone?  Where did my baby cousin go?"

Katlin (aka Bubbles)

There is a reason Katlin is called "Bubbles."  She has practically been talking since she was born.  Not in a rambling, chattering sort of way.  She just speaks her mind, and most of it is pretty darn hilarious.  What I respect about Katlin the most is that while she gets a lot of flack for speaking her mind, she never complains about being picked on.  I'm pretty sure I couldn't take that when I was her age, but it doesn't phase her.  She likes the attention.  I don't think she has ever felt the pressure to stop the constant flow of thoughts from her head.

Well, those are the girls!  I love each of them.  H.A.G.S.!  (It stands for "have a good summer."  I learned that from looking at my cousins' yearbooks.)

Vacation is on the Horizon!

Hmmm... It's been a wild ride lately.  There are always challenges, and I can finally see the new horizon coming to shine on me.  Wow, how cheesy.

Alex and I were supposed to be leaving this past Sunday to head to Pennsylvania to see my Mom's family.  Dad, Mom, Mike, and his dog Clover were going to go as well.  Instead, we have been waiting here at our apartment, helping out wherever we can because my uncle was admitted to the ICU this weekend.

I started getting calls from Mike, who started getting worried about our uncle on Thursday.  He seldom calls, so when I heard the phone vibrating and saw that it was him, I answered it.  Yay for being on-call RN for my family!  And there began the challenge to teach Mammaw and Dad how to use my uncle's glucometer to check his blood sugar.  He's a diabetic, and it never occurred to me before that I should teach someone else how to take his blood sugar in case he could not do it himself.

I don't feel like I have the right to be more specific, nor do I want to be right now.  Bad just went to worse and even worse, and now my uncle is in ICU.  I am told that he is improving quickly, and I am glad that he is getting the care that he needs.  Dad told me that the ICU nurses have been wonderful at taking care of him and explaining everything in terms that he and Mammaw can understand.  I am extremely grateful, and I love my kind!

I have learned now that I have an obligation to help my family with medical concerns and questions, and I am happy to do that.  I hope that I get to help my uncle take better care of himself.  I hope that he is receptive, and that I get to reinforce the teaching about diabetes that they do at the hospital.  I hate to wish this, but I hope that he remembers just how sick he was and how bad it got, so maybe he will not want it to happen again.

So, for the new horizon!  I am so excited to be going on vacation with my family for several days.   There has been a slight change of plans as to who is coming--Dad is going to stay home with Mammaw to take care of my uncle when he is in the hospital.  So, to take his place we have my 9-year-old cousin, Tesse!  Mom, Mike, Alex, and Clover are still coming.  It's going to be a tight fit in the car... but we'll manage.

There are several people in my Mom's family who have not met Alex, so that will be fun.  I hope I get to see as many of them as possible, because I love them all.  I really want to see my grandparents, seeing as they could not make it to our wedding, so it will be the first time they will be meeting Alex too.  So excited!  :)

I might not post for a couple of days.  I don't think I will be bringing my computer.  So, I hope everyone has a wonderful July 4th holiday, and I will be praying that all of you stay safe and have a blast!