Perhaps I didn't need to push the panic button yesterday.  But, who knows.  What I found out, kinda makes me wonder!

Yesterday afternoon I called my Daughter-in-Law, in North Carolina, and shared the experience I had that morning and explained my concern for our soldier.  What was really strange is that she said she had terrible anxiety that night, and had only had about 2 hours sleep because of it.  Were we on the same wavelength?  Was Fly Boy in danger?  What caused the two of us-normally calm women-(I work in a prison and she jumps out of airplanes for God's sake) to experience the same concern about our soldier? A woman's intuition?

Fortunately she had talked with Fly Boy about 3 hours before my call to her.  She told me that he was preparing to participate in some "special mission" on his upcoming shift.  Fall Girl said he was to telephone her that night at the completion of his assignment, which would be about Midnight, eastern time.  I asked her to make sure that he called me too, regardless of the time.   I just had to speak to him myself.

At 11 p.m. (Pacific Time) last night, I received a call from North Carolina and was delighted to find that Fall Girl and Fly Boy were both on the line.  She had arranged a 3-way conversation!  My son was fine!  Thank God!  But, he did have a close call the day before and keep in mind, Iraq is about 11 hours later than the States..............

He said that he and his co-pilot had to "bail" from his helicopter, just before take-off after somehow getting spewed with fuel and he said "Thankfully, it didn't ignite!" 

Thankfully?  Oh yes, thankfully! Thanks be to God!  Dear Lord, Thank You!

Oh, and that "special mission".....His commanders called it off, because they just didn't like the way it was supposed to happen!  As I understand it, they felt the Kiowa helicopters were not appropriate for the mission, and called in the Apaches instead.  Could that have been the danger? 

At this point, I guess we'll never know.   Thank God!

 

 

Shout for Mom?

It's never, ever happened to me before. 

This morning at 7:14 a.m. my heart raced, and I began shaking with dread as only a mother of a soldier would know.

It was clear as day, his voice, sounding panicked, shouting...."MOM." 

 

I was instantly awakened, and responded by saying "Whhaaat?"   Outloud.  To nobody?

I was outta that bed and to my computer as fast as I was able using a walker, looking to see if he was online, or perhaps he had emailed me.  No to both.

Was it a mother's intuition that my son is in trouble?  Did he call out to me at some awful moment?  Was it my subconcious responding to the fact that yesterday we filled up four boxes of goodies to ship to him?  The conversation we had the other night, in which I thought he was so depressed?

Now, I sit and wait for assurance that he's okay. 

 

Be safe son!  We love you! 

Scalzi's Weekend Assignment #54

Weekend Assignment #54: Tell us all a single piece of wisdom you've learned from personal life experience. It can be a small thing, it can be a big thing, a simple tip or trick or the most important thing you've ever learned from life. But whatever it is, you should be able to state it in one sentence. That way people will remember it easier.

Extra Credit: Tell us: Would you have listened to your own bit of advice as a teenager? Be honest, now.

Here's my piece of wisdom:

It's all going to work out in the end! 

As long as I can remember, whenever I fretted about something, Papa used to say, "It's all going to work out in the end.  It may not work out exactly as you think it should.  But, it's all going to work out, so there's no sense in worrying about it." 

I have found this piece of advice to be so true.  My worrying isn't changing anything and things just seem to work themselves out, often without my help! 

Extra Credit:  Of course I wouldn't have listened to this advice when I was a teenager!  Isn't everything catastrophic when you're that age?

::graphic borrowed from My Elegant Chaos::

Where My Son Lives

My Fly Boy is really developing an eye with his camera. 

This photo is the barracks at his camp, which are little box like containers with bunkbeds.   He changed bases a few weeks ago, and he says the accomodations at this one pale in comparison to what he was used to at Mortaritaville.  He says the food is not very good, as it's not freshly prepared.  Apparently it's pre-cooked and sealed elsewhere, then heated up right before it's served.  The menu is the same from week to week.  So, he's asked me to send him things he can heat up in a microwave.  A package will be put together this weekend, and sent off next week.  I hope that'll cheer him up a bit! 

With today's technology and my recuperation period here at home, we're having many more opportunities to chat on Instant Messenger or talk on the telephone.  He's so homesick right now, and really missing his beautiful new bride.  It concerns me, because he's sounding depressed, although he says he is not. 

Despite the fact that he loves his flying "job" he's sick of the warfront, Iraq and being so far away from his loved ones.  Sad part of it is, he hasn't been there very long.  But, he hopes his "mid-tour" opportunity to visit the states, comes soon.

He now has 10 years in the Army, but says he may not re-enlist if he ever has to go back to Iraq.  I don't blame him and I certainly understand.  He is maturing, and his family is becoming more precious to him all the time.  Fall Girl loves children and they'd like to start their family.  But they want to wait until he comes home for good, so they can share the excitement of a pregnancy together. I am hoping that it all coincides with about the time I retire next year and I can join in the excitement of my first grandchild making it's way into our world.

Be safe son....I love you! 

Fly Boy's Firefight

Today's Stars and Stripes magazine has an article featuring the details of the March 22nd firefight in which Fly Boy was involved. Although his name is not mentioned, he was one of the pilots involved, taking fire.  In fact, he is pictured on your left with his co-pilot in the helicopter photo.  Yep, that's my boy, even though you can't actually tell that it's him!   Please keep this brave fighter pilot in your thoughts and prayers!  And...his buddies too!  Thanks!

Scalzi's Action Shot

Although a day late, as I was busy falling down, this action shot is of the ocean at Smith River, California.  I took this shot on my recent visit our beautiful northern coastline.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the waves are round me breaking,

As I pace the deck alone,

And my eye in vain is seeking

Some green leaf to rest upon;

What would not I give to wander

Where my old companions dwell?

Absence makes the heart grow fonder,

Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!

                                     ~John Milton

                                               Paradise Lost

 

Above, another photo taken on the beach during our mini vacation last week and how I long to be wandering through those anceint weathered logs on two good feet! 

The way things are going, I may not have one good foot or a brain in my head by the time this ordeal is over.  Last night I took a terrible fall in the foyer! 

Actually, it was rather spectacular now that I think about it!  Thank goodness Patty and Abbie were here to keep me from breaking my arms, which were entangled in the crutches that were sprawling out in different directions as I fell to the tile floor, convieniently wedged between the Grandfather Clock and short stairway wall, as my butt landed on a drawer of CDs which were cracking under my weight and baseboard fell on my head. 

Yeah, I sat on CDs and baseboard toppled on to my head. 

Is that descriptive enough?

It's just not a good idea for a wobbly, uncoordinated, one-legged woman to attempt to walk on crutches through a house that's under construction.  

I shoulda stayed in my room.  

Today we're looking into renting a wheelchair.  

Something Cheery!

Today I woke up with a huge case of feeling sorry for myself.  After a few, well quite a few tears and venting about my situation, I am feeling better. 

I just can't stand being immobile, dependent on others, uncomfortable and not sleeping in my own bed.  I guess it would be different if I were sick, but I am not.  Thank You Lord!  But, I am such a creature of habit and a Type A personality that it's hard for me to enjoy this quiet time.  So, maybe there are lessons to be learned here and I hope they reveal themselves soon. 

The thought of nearly 6 more weeks of this makes me want to scream!  It's been two days since my last shower, which was such an exhausting ordeal with plastic bags and a shower chair, then trying to maneuver and dress while using crutches, that I dread doing it again or multiple times during this recovery period, for that matter.  

Today, I think I will ask Tam to come over and blow dry my hair once I get out of the shower and maybe that, and a little makeup will make me feel more like facing my little world.  You know...the ol' "You look good, you feel good!" 

My body is probably a little out of whack too because I started my Atkins routine after my surgery.  I have gone DAYS without chocolate, sugar and had minimal carbs.  That in itself is depressing, but I am determined to go back to work weighing considerably less than I did when I took off for this surgery.  I am way sick of being fat.  And, I know that I am the only one who can change things, so now's the time. 

Today's photo is one I snapped Easter Sunday at the Tulip Hill Winery (click on the name for more photos-not mine-of this beautiful place) on the way home from our mini vacation. True to it's name, the place was filled with thousands of colorful tulips and I had to get some pictures.  The winery  (<---click for the winery website) was closed, so I ended up sticking my head and camera through the wrought iron bars, and snapped away while my family laughed at my persistence. 

Never one to pass up a good photo opportunity, I got what I wanted and thought I'd share it with you! 

I think this is a rather cheery photo!  And...believe me, I need some cheer.  

P. S.  I updated my photo blog, Up Close and Personal with more photos of our trip!     

Sunset for Terri Shaivo and Pope John Paul

This sunset was taken last week, from the beach just below my family's home in Smith River, California. I thought it was perfect to honor the Holy Father and Terri, who was there to meet him in Heaven today.  I imagine my Papa was pretty impressed with his latest company!  May they all rest in glorious peace!

Surgery Notes

I make a terrible immobile person.  Rather than whine BIG TIME, suffice it to say I have had enough of this "non-weight bearing and crutches" routine.  I'd much rather keep my fat lazy rear in bed, pull the covers over my head and pray for the 6 weeks to pass quickly, than try to lug my fat lazy rear about this house on those damn crutches.  But, my body is telling me otherwise.  I just can't stay in that bed, vertical or horizontal, for the majority of 24 hours now that the affects of the anesthesia has worn off, and pain pills aren't necessary every four hours.

Crutches are a total pain.  One must be fairly coordinated and steady to use crutches.  I am not steady on two "good" feet.  Reducing it to one foot is asking for trouble.  Thank goodness that I have Papa's potty chair near the bed, because by the time I'd get out of bed and up on the crutches to the bathroom, it would be too late.  I wonder how many urine soaked casts the ortho doctor has had to change due to such problems?  

I'm told the ankle surgery went well.   I was given a spinal block when I went into the operating room, along with some IV medication which they told me was Verced and it would help me "relax."  At one point I was awakened by the very distinct sound of hammering.  So, in my Versed induced stupor I say, "It sounds like someone is hammering down there!"  The nurse anesthetist says..."Well, yes he is, and I think we'll just give you a little more medicine so you can go back to sleep until were all finished here!"  You'd of thought that they'd have given me enough to begin with, so that I would not have to hear the reconstruction of my ankle at any point in the operating room, let alone remember it after the surgery.   

Once in the recovery room, I was throughly enjoying some wonderfully oxygenated sleep, disturbed by only an occasional squeeze of the blood pressure cuff, until the post surgical patient that they rolled in next to me, made her grand entrance.  My gosh, she carried on, continuously crying, moaning and saying, "Help me, I am hurting so bad!  Pleaaaaaasssseeee!   OH GAWD!  HELP meeeeeeee!"  

I looked over at her and saw that she had the exact same bandage on her right foot and ankle as I did and noticed the nurses rolling their eyes at her dramatics.  Finally I said to her, "Did Dr. K repair your ankle?" and she sobbed, "Uhhhhhh, huhhhhh!"  Then she proceeded to get back to the business of pure pitiful, unrestrained whining! 

"Oh GAWD! HELP Me! PUH LEESSSEE!"

Geez.  I didn't carry on nearly that much when I had a breech birth and this woman was just coming out of surgery.  Shouldn't she still be under the effects of whatever anesthesia they used?

It was at that point that I began to roll my eyes and woke up enough to watch the show.  We were told that the anesthesiologist had gone to lunch and would give the cry baby and I our "Bier Block" injections upon her return.   In the meantime, everybody in recovery had to listen to this woman carrying on.  Some recovery.

When Dr. W. arrived, she came to my bed first to administer the block since I had been out of surgery the longest, as the cry baby continued hollering about how much she was hurting.  I graciously suggested that I go second, seeing that my pain level was considerably less than hers. 

The doctor and the nurses thanked me profusely.  No, really, my pleasure!  Anything to get this woman to shut up! 

It did the trick and we all got a little more rest, before it was time to go home. 

Oh, and for some reason, my Bier Block injection didn't hurt a bit, compared to hers!