Diplomom08’s Weblog

Granada

I'll admit it:  despite a fairly decent (actually amazingly easy) arrival, we managed to be a little stir crazy by the end of last week.  Between *real* internet taking a while to be installed (in hindsight, not that long, but it felt that way at the time), a slight bug issue (it's fixed future visitors, no worries!), and a feeling of being stuck in our gorgeous, but slightly secluded home, it all took a toll.  By the weekend, I wanted out and far away out.

A new friend heard our prayers as she was taking us around the city on Thursday and offered us a trip to see Masaya (the volcano) from afar,  the Masayan artisan market,  and the city of Granada on Saturday.  Not only would we get out of the city, but would get a chance to sample more comida tipica, and an idea of what else needed exploration within an hour's reach.

While we did not actually drive within reach of the volcano (it was pouring and we are saving for a bit later), we now know exactly how easy it is to get there.  Once we get to the highway, it's basically a straight shot, save for a right turn at the entrance of the park.  Once we passed the volcano, we headed to the handicrafts market in Masaya.  

These might be too pretty to eat.

The colors….

Doll hammock, anyone? I might get one just because….

Now some reports online will say it's too expensive, others will say it's too touristy.  Are you kidding me?  I was out of my house, in the middle of a new country and exploring.  Overpriced and touristy or not (I wonder if the naysayers have shopped in the U.S. recently), we had a great time.  From the hammocks (for everyone, including doll-sized hammocks), to the batidos (fruit smoothie), we enjoyed soaking in the culture, the amazing colors and the artisanry on display.  The wood work alone had us in awe. Then the pottery, paintings, and jewelry…given we have three years here and many other markets to explore, we only invested in a few items, to include a gorgeous wooden coaster set and a shell jewelry box designed as a puzzle, however we left happy.  

A hammock in process….

I'm sorry, we thought we ordered the grande batidos. Hello!

Upon departing the market, we headed to the town of Granada.  Located a mere 45 minutes (approximately 45 kilometers) from Managua, Granada is an easy drive along the Carretera a Masaya. We drove into the town expecting Managua and were surprised by the bright colors and colonial architecture.  The town also acts as part of the shoreline for Lake Nicaragua.  A drive past the lakefront was mandatory and included monkey, cow, and donkey sightings.  Yes, the LG was thrilled, as were the girls.  Of course, once he saw the naked children frollicking in the lake, he wanted to follow suit.  Given how close the animals were grazing and what I've read, swimming might not be on the agenda any time soon.  We headed that off with a promise of comida tipica for lunch and continued investigating the shoreline and surrounding area.

Granada's now defunct train station. It's been closed for years (though reportedly has a restaurant inside), but still maintains its original beauty.

Cows grazing by the shore of Lake Nicaragua. 

Lunch was downtown in a cozy cafe with an indoor garden.  We snagged a table outside and were able to enjoy lunch despite the fact that a raging storm was only inches away from our table. Our grilled steak, chicken, cheese, frijoles molido, and tajadas (fried plantains) were amazing, we managed to find room for a post lunch treat of gelatos and crepes (both appear to be quite popular here, to the kids' delight).

Our view at lunch…

We wandered about the city a bit more, but did not opt for any particular tours.  Given that we have three years, it seems like we should stretch out our trips a bit more.   We don't want to rush the exploration and we now have the perfect place to spend a random free Saturday or maybe a U.S. holiday.  Especially given that we did not have a chance to visit the Choco Museo where one can even make his or her own chocolate…um, yum?!

Did I mention how excited we are to have three years to explore here? Our lifestyle can sometimes be overwhelming, but the rest of the time it's utterly amazing. More amazingness soon, I promise….

11 days in….

we are still very much here, experiencing the ups and downs of life in Managua and adjusting to a bit more of a learning curve than we expected.  It's always that way, though, isn't it?

It's interesting to mesh one's ideas of a place with the reality.  My mind was resting on the eco-friendly beach shores of the Pacific Ocean, not necessarily within the city itself.  I figured it was better just to see it, than to try to imagine what life would be like here.  Even with the internet, it's nearly impossible to grasp the full picture until you arrive. And the verdict?

I have no idea.  There are many aspects thus far that we love: the house, the yard, and, yes, to an extent, the isolated area in which we live.  We are not next door to much, but this gives us a bit more outdoor open space and definitely a lot of peace and quiet.  While we were lucky that our neighborhood in Annandale was well-established, we forgot just how quiet an area can be, minus the chirping of the birds and the occasional daytime fireworks (yes, this is a bit confusing to me).

Nick enjoying the new yard. The word spacious does not do justice to describe the yard's size.

Conversely, I am trying to adjust to the new shopping scene, if you will.  By shopping, I do not mean mall hanging about, which we do not intend to do often.  We really don't *need* much from the mall and there is a new Lego store being built.  So, uh, won't be spending much time there!

No, the shopping scene would be the food.  I must say, my first grocery experience was a bit startling.  One day I am at my organic market in the Virginia suburbs thinking about how in the next few days I will be engaged in a whole new food market type of experience.  I had no idea what to expect, though I suppose I could have done a bit more research.  I knew there was at least one independent market & restaurant that catered to the more natural scene.  However, I was not prepared for the grocery store experience at all.

At first I was surprised by the overall modern feel of the market.  Managua, by all appearances, is a very diverse city.  One might pass a small home constructed from corrugated metal sheeting with chickens running loose in the front yard (I would love a  chicken in my backyard, if I could be assured the dog would allow it.), then pass a restaurant that serves comida tipica smack next door to it, with a fruit stand next to that.  Right next to that might be a rather fancy condominium complex, with cafes that would have you thinking you are in a downtown American city.  All within a few meters of one another. 

So I was a bit surprised by the lights, the overflowing shelves, and the grandiose feeling of the store.  I think, in my mind, I expected more of a farmers paradise.  Instead I found a grocery store that took me back to our years in Caracas.  The immediate scent of laundry detergent was overwhelming, the day-glo colors of the cleaning products (we are vinegar & baking soda types), and the aisles of processed foods and *health* products overwhelmed me.  I eventually made my way through, needing really only fresh fruits, vegetables, and a bit of  meat.  While by all appearances, it was very clean, I still struggle with figuring out how everything is processed.  

Lest anyone decide this is a food snobbery thing, I assure you, it's not.  Remember what happened a few years ago?  There's a good reason I avoid meats with antibiotics and hormones and am careful about the dairy I choose.  Obviously, fruits and vegetables are a wee bit eaiser, but I am still learning all of the new local foods, so I'm not extraordinarily well-versed.  I worry if I'm just missing the explanation (yes, I've Googled extensively) or if nothing is labeled for a reason.  

Comida tipica at a despedida.  I'll admit it, I had seconds…it was so good.

So, my first trip to the store was a bit jarring.  Given that I've become accustomed to much more from scratch cooking, perhaps my biggest culture shock was just how much processed food exists here. There are organic producers, but one must suss those out a little bit more.   In addition to the local market and restaurant, Ola Verde, there are also independent producers of organic products.  Of course, there are also the roadside stands that have a plethora of fresh fruit that I assume to be organic.  I still wash it carefully, but somehow having the farmer/fruit picker sell it directly to me allows me to trust the origins a wee bit more, as I do with the farmers markets in the U.S.

If anyone is curious, my stressing about the processing of the food has not stopped me from trying it.  Origins aside, I have yet to find something that I have not liked.  Granted, we have stuck to the more traditional fare.  I have no interest in fast food (we will avoid the McDonald's for three years…) and from ground refried beans to the grilled meats we've tasted, we've not found one thing to not like.  Even the local Italian restaurant serves wood-fired pizzas that are fresh and full of flavor.  And with the exception of my half and half ( I do miss that…) there is not much we cannot get here, from sushi to organic arugula (which will soon hopefully be growing in my backyard).

The first meal cooked by our empleada. I will just say, especially for potential visitors, she is an amazing cook…

Here's to three years of a food exploration, to include sussing out all of the local organic farmers and really having a complete list of the delights that can be found here.  Oh, and remembering to copy down all of the recipes of the amazing comida tipica that our empleada has been dishing out for us…

Well, we are here….

But no regular Internet just yet, so this will be short and sweet. We have a great house (somewhere in Managua) that is beautiful, if not a bit confusing.

The other day Nick told me he wanted to play with Lego bricks in the living room. I went to what I thought was the right spot and he said, "No, not that living room…sigh…let me show you which one!" So, we are not lacking in space and three days in, I am still forgetting which room is a bathroom and which is a storage closet (plenty of both).  And did I mention the jetted tub in our bathroom? Um, yes, between the backyard, a huge expanse of gardening space and the spa tub, I'm so in my happy place.

The trip was basically uneventful, but I did have a minor worry on the ride home from the airport that I was suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted and what if I completely failed at this whole FS thing? It disappeared about 5 seconds later, when I decided I would just have to take it one day at a time (or maybe one minute?).

One of the kids also had a minor freak out upon arrival at the house. I won't say which one, because that won't help. We had a few tears, a few short talks, and nothing since then.  Sometimes they get bored, but that's okay since boredom generally sparks creativity.

The cat has had zero issues, and is settling in happily. He is rapidly testing every piece of furniture, and will be pleasantly (I hope) surprised when the dog arrives Monday night. Though her presence might interrupt his heavy schedule of napping and more napping….

And now I must go and figure out how to turn off the sprinklers…in the middle of a hurricane-like rain storm. Hasta luego!

Every table is a Lego table in our house and this one came with padding. Woot!

Our *fur-in* service gato trying to be way stoic about the whole moving overseas thing.

No one will dare sit here as no one wants to be responsible for disturbing the cat….

The butterflies in my

stomach have begun.  Flitting around, just as I try to nod off to sleep at night or sit down for 5 minutes to compose  a list of everything we haven't accomplished yet.  

Part of me feared this day would never come and now that it's nearly here, I am trying to put the brakes on time.  Three weeks ago I was nervous as I knew we couldn't order anything online and have it included in our shipments.  Now we can't order anything online and have it by the time our flight takes off on Tuesday.  In fact, my one poor sandal will have to make a very lonely trip down by USPS to Managua by itself.  I completely forgot about the repair, took in the shoe, and was told it wouldn't be ready until next Saturday.  Oops.  

I keep thinking of how much we still have to do at the house.  (Did the movers pack out any bathroom cabinets?!) and, yet, each day we add in more.  A haircut here, a new laptop there, what about school shoes on Monday?  Meetings are still being scheduled, last-minute going away sleepovers are not out of the question, and I have yet to even pack a bag.  However, we do have all of our bags and will spread them out tomorrow in our living room in a mock pack-out sort of scenario. I can't wait to see Nick manage his two large rolling duffles and his Batman carry-on. 

New haircut, check. New laptop, checkity-check.

Oh, the move?  Egad, a nickel's worth of free advice:  don't ever move right after surgery.  There was no way for me to avoid it, but, oh, to have been able to bend over, twist and turn and not feel like I was spraining my entire body while organizing our whole house would have been lovely.   Peter did the bulk of the work, but still, all of the putting in different piles was still exhausting. 

While the packing part went fairly quickly (8:30 a.m. – 5 p.m. on Monday, 9 a.m.- 3 p.m. on Tuesday?), it was exhausting trying to keep up with the packers.  We would check on them and do almost hourly walk-throughs, but they still forgot two cabinets in the kitchen, packed a mattress we repeatedly told them to leave behind, and forgot our Rubbermaid shelves in the garage (a bonus for our renters!).  

In the end, it could have been worse.  The movers were fast, we figured out the errors, and the company corrected them!  The mattress was pulled and the two cabinets of dishes were packed out and made it into HHE.  The shelves had to stay, but those were the least of our worries.

Now, we just have to finish up those last bits of laundry, remember who needs copies of the house keys, the power of attorney for the new windows, data plan for the phones, suspension request for the phones once we arrive at post, all of the cat certificates, the shoes in the front hall closet, my last minute need to have (but, yes, would be fine without) items, and I still have to finish cleaning out the freezer before the cleaners show up on Monday.  Then we have other house bits to stress over, but thank goodness for the internet, right?

I really shouldn't feel completely woefully unprepared as at least I remembered to order and ship cat food, linens, my first Drugstore.com order in ages, and figured out prior to leaving that both girls would need laptops this year.  (Guess who does not need one for kindergarten and is a bit miffed about this turn of events?).  Given that we can get nearly everything we need in Managua or by mail, I should quit worrying, especially since we are trying to downsize.

Yes, I have come to the conclusion (again) that we just have too much stuff.  Part of the issue is that I inherited too much at too young of an age, part is having three kids, and part is not always wanting to part with the past.  I decided to change that this time around.  I can't count the number of bags of baby clothes I gave away or consigned.  

We gave away boxes of toys, furniture we no longer need, and had the girls really take hard looks at what they want vs. need.  And reminded them just how low our storage estimate was, in case they really couldn't part with things.  I'm hoping three years of slightly more spacious (and perhaps better organized) bedrooms will remind me that I like open, fairly uncluttered spaces and we need to keep the stuff level down in order to have that. Given that we shipped fewer than 6,000 lbs in HHE (boat freight) to post, we are not off to a bad start.

At least we have 3 years…

to unpack all of this and the contents of 7 other rooms.

And then I realize that even with the past 5 weeks just racing by, maybe a few butterflies aren't a bad thing.  After all, isn't this what we wanted, what I've been working for since Peter left for Iraq? Granted, I had to work even harder after the whole mess began in the fall of 2010 and I have to remind myself for every nervous flutter, there is a sudden jolt of happy.

I mean, my goodness, I'm not just nervous, I'm, well, excited.  I'm so happy and relieved to be back on track.  I won't blame the illness for derailing our plans, as it didn't.  It was my reaction to it.  On one hand, I did take my time and analyze my choices.  In the end, I think most of the decisions (most) were good, solid ones and I'm not unhappy with them as a whole.

I am unhappy that I lost myself for a while.  I let myself go.  I lost myself in doctor-speak and fear mongering about things that would likely not happen. I still remember the doctors who kept telling me to take time off from life, that *that* was the cure, the fix for all that ailed me.  

It wasn't.  I took the time, took too much time, and put myself in a space far worse than the original. Despite my best intentions, I listened to those who didn't understand my life. I thought I was making my own choices, but I still let fear guide me too much until I found doctors who understood our lives and realized the fix was in getting back overseas. Now I know better and won't make that mistake again.

Three days from now we will be arriving at our new home.  Bring it, butterflies, I can't wait.

The good news is

that I have the all-clear from my surgeon. The bad news is that simply means that I don't have to return to see him before I leave (um, in 10 days!).  Sadly, it isn't really an indicator of pain being that much less or me being able to do that much more.

While I had hoped to be perhaps thinking about running by now, or maybe even just a few yoga stretches, I've had a bit of a setback this week.  While last week I finally felt like I was well enough to start walking more, unfortunately, I think the move interfered with my healing.  While I didn't intentionally try to lift or move anything I shouldn't, I spent most of the last week twisting, turning, lifting, squatting, sometimes bending, and there was a lot more physical exertion than over the past three weeks.

By Wednesday of this week my pain level began to rise.  It gradually worsened until Thursday evening I was in tears on the way home from dinner.  I had long since run out of pain pills and no amount of Advil was helping. Short of resting in bed, nothing helped with pain. Note:  Pretty much impossible to rest in bed 24 hours a day while you are trying to move overseas.

Since my surgical follow-up was today, I figured I could eke it out pain-wise until I got to the doctor and then beg and plead for more Percocet.  Yes, I realize how that sounds, but when you are having the kind of pain I am having, it is a need.  I didn't even bother sitting down in the waiting room or exam room, as that would only mean having to recover from that.  

The doctor entered the room, saw me standing and figured out fairly quickly that I was still not exactly ready for so much as a couch to 5 K.  He had me remove the binder I've worn for the past month, took one look at the surgical site, and asked my permission to have a physician's assistant take a look.

Why?

Well, despite my discomfort, apparently, I am healing quite well.  While I may not feel fantabulous, the improvement in the way I look is about 1000%.  The doctor had a fun time trying to explain just how awful the bulge was…

"It was THIS (holds right hand about a foot out from the right side of my abdomen) big!"

I have to admit, despite the slow recovery, he's right. It's amazing what a bit of mesh and a few little pieces of hardware can do to improve one's body.  And if you are wondering if this was a vanity thing, if you know me, you know it's not.  I simply want a body that is not causing me constant pain and that is not what I had.  Right now, I'm having recovery pain.  Prior to the surgery, I had regular pain doing anything and no amount of exercise did anything for the bulge.  It was just growing and without surgery, would never improve.

In fact, although I haven't really lost much weight, and obviously, I can't do too much to improve my musculature right now, I was thrilled to put on a pair of jeans for the first time and have them fit me evenly (and a teeny bit loose).  I had given up wearing nearly anything but yoga pants prior to surgery, simply because I had to have something stretchy to fit over the bulge.  Not fun, I tell you, not fun.

Oh, and the move?  I'll save that for tomorrow, but I will say had I not had the interference of the surgery and recovery, it would easily qualify as our most-organized move ever.  It's not over yet, but if things keep rolling along as they have been, I may not be a complete mess when we board the plane next week. Fingers crossed! 

With nary a care for my health,

I spent the day working in the garage.  While Peter did the heavy lifting, I sorted through toys, papers, memorabilia and found everything from my Presidential Fitness Award (the pin) to our original marriage certificate (um, yeah, that should not be stored in the garage).  Don't ask.

Unlike previous moves, where I pretty much just pointed and said, "Pack it all," we have decided to try and be uber- organized (cue laughter now).  We actually have our shelves in the garage sorted by stays here/storage/HHE (UAB will be pulled out accordingly).  It's not perfect yet, but it was by far the biggest task and I'd say we are 75% of the way there.  Luckily, Grandpa Kirk flies in tomorrow, so he will take over kid-care and the dreadful (as if) task of hanging out at the pool while the kids swim for hours, so we can run around like crazy and purchase bikes, a trampoline, a basketball hoop, a Sodastream, and wine.  Priorities, right?

The rest of the house, barring Kelsey's room (about halfway there) is pretty well good to go.  Den needs a bit of work, but Cait managed to knock out her entire room in one night, and the mid-level has been set since the pre-packout survey.  Oh, and, yes, we have a box set aside for all of the Lego bricks we know we will find once the movers leave.  Travel toys, right?

Prior to all of this moving frenzy, we actually had a bit of excitement in our house.  Nearly everyone won an award (or two) in our household, and three of them were complete surprises, at least for the recipients.

Since Peter completed his UT, the kids were eligible to receive medals from the Family Liaison Office (FLO) at the State Department and certificates signed by John Kerry.  While we figured Cait might want to receive hers quietly, we knew that Kelsey might enjoy receiving hers at school.  Several months ago, Peter wrote to Kelsey's principal and they devised the perfect plan for giving Kelsey the medal and certificate during the ceremony.  Not only was it thrilling to receive in front of her classmates, but the fact that Peter could present it meant that much more.

Not only did Peter give her the award, but Kelsey's principal then went on to speak for a few moments about how difficult this kind of assignment can be.  A beaming Kelsey walked back to her seat to a round of applause, found us in the audience and blew us a kiss.  She had no idea we had this planned, and until her name was completely clueless as to why I'd tried to get her to dress up just a wee bit that morning.  However, she was not the only one surprised that week..

The previous Friday Cait came home and announced that she needed a dress.  Given that she is a hoodie and jeans kind of person, this came as a bit of a surprise.  As it turns out, she was slated to receive an award for exemplary academic achievement in world history and geography.  She has been fairly modest about receiving the award, but it seems like she was chosen from a rather large pool of students.  We could not be prouder, though we knew award or no, she is quite talented in those areas.

Nick also garnered his Unaccompanied Tour award on his last day of school.  His teacher presented it to him in front of his classmates and he was so excited, he let her take a picture!  I think his biggest award is simply having Peter home, but the kids do appreciate the recognition.

Last, but not least, I won an award.  I know, that's crazy talk, right?  I almost wasn't even there to receive it, as I was still in so much pain last week.  However, it was my last Girl Scout Leader dinner and I knew I couldn't miss it.  I took a pain pill, bucked up, and ended up being absolutely stunned to win an Outstanding Leader Award.  I was just sitting there, calmly waiting to hear the winner's name called and all of the sudden, there I am receiving my pin and endorsements!  I will only say that I absolutely could not have won the award without such amazing girls and other parents to work with.  The girls totally and completely make the troop and if not for them, I would not have been standing there Thursday night.  

Um, no, no pics of me yet.  Thanks to the swelling from the surgery that still has not completely abated, I now look completely semi-pregnant.  It's better, I can get the binder tighter, but I'm definitely looking forward to a day that it's not part of my accoutrement.

And now it's time to organize the china hutch…the fun just never ends!

Birthdays don’t

take a break.  You can't cancel a birthday.  Sure, you can opt to celebrate later, but when you missed the previous year's celebration (say, because said birthday person was overseas), it's even harder to postpone it two years in a row.

The past two weeks have been so very difficult.  I expected a harder recovery than I was told I would have, but this is way beyond that.  I still have a lot of pain from you know, sitting, walking can be done, but then even the shortest walk puts me back instead of forward, I'm tired of the recliner, but tried to nap on the couch last night and that was a big mistake to say the least.

I was so excited because I thought by now I would be really on the mend.   Instead, I've had to cancel most outings (graduation parties, volunteer days at schools, a whole weekend away) and pick and choose maybe one thing a day.  I opt for something that will get me up and moving (as in leaving my house), but where I know I won't actually be asked to do anything other than sit in a comfy chair.  Pathetic.

Tomorrow night I'm not even supposed to be home, as it's the end of the year Girl Scout Leader dinner and I don't even know if I'll get to that.  I'm really hoping my recovery is normal for my surgery and I was just given inflated expectations, as I'm really at my wit's end.  It doesn't help we are packing out in 12 days and if Peter wasn't here, I'd pretty much just be weeping in my recliner.  Since he is here, he is doing all of the organizing while I draw up fun UAB/HHE/Storage/Stays in House/Freecycle, Craigslist&/orDonate lists.  It's not what I hoped to be doing, but at least I feel semi-useful.  Well, until it's naptime.

And yet…

Tomorrow is Peter's birthday and I've got nothing.  I'll have to beg him to take me out so I can *buy* him a cake that he has to carry home.  Gifts?  Had I actually thought about that in advance, I'd have something more exciting.  No special dinner tomorrow night since I can't shop or really prepare anything, and we had to cancel our weekend away since I'm still in so much pain…so the whole combined special Father's Day/birthday weekend just went down the tubes.

So this is the best I can do for now:

Happy birthday, Pete!

Love you and thank you for spending your home leave getting me every kind of takeout possible so I can spend the entire time recovering in the recliner.  I know this isn't the way you probably wanted to spend your birthday week, so maybe this will help?

Don't worry, the real one should show up in your email some time in the morning.   

Sigh….and back to the recliner.

Last week I was under the mistaken

impression that somehow because my surgery was laparoscopic (read:  less invasive), it would somehow be less painful (as have been previous laparoscopic surgeries). This idea is indicated in many places and recovery is touted as shorter and sweeter.  My thoughts?  If you have to have the same surgery (hernia repair) that I did and cannot have it laparoscopically, start the painkillers now (even if the surgery is months off).  No joke.  I will grant that apparently the hernia was bigger, hence more pain, however, in no way, shape or form was I prepared for the agony of post-operative pain.

I was barely in recovery for an hour last Thursday (after being reassured time and time again prior to surgery that I would go home that afternoon), when it was deemed that I would likely need to stay the night.  I was in such awful pain that I could not breathe without feeling as though I had the world's most giant cramp in my side.  I'm quite amazed any oxygen reached my lungs, given how hard it was to inhale, exhale, you name it.

After a quick meeting with the surgeon, it was decided that I would be sent off to my own room to hopefully improve overnight.  Knowing that the Salty Dogs (well, one of them) had the kids squared away left me only to worry about myself…and the thought of poor Peter being too proud to ask the nurse for a pillow.  I mean, those benches in the rooms look comfy and all, but the poor boy definitely had a crick in his neck on Friday morning.

I spent the entire night and most of the next morning alternating sleep with worrying about being asked to schlep to the bathroom again (why do hospitals not have higher toilet seats?  I mean, really!).  Then there was the high pain vs. nausea.  You see, the high pain causes a bigger need for painkillers.  However, more meds on an empty stomach?  Yeah, not a great combo.  I mean, the ice chips helped and all, but it's really sad when you can't even barter up for half of a ginger ale.

Finally, in the morning, I was given the green light to go home, at about the same time I was told I could eat again.  Of course, no one actually told the food service this news and Peter got a big, ole "No can do," when he tried to go crazy and order me wheat toast.  No worries, as it took me two hours to eat three bites, since I kept falling asleep while trying to eat my breakfast.  And if you are wondering why there are no photos of this splendid experience?

Around noon, my wheelchair showed up (the nurse actually asked me if I wanted one.  It took me FIVE minutes to get out of bed and walk 3 feet to the bathroom…what's your guess?).  After the world's worst wheelchair ride (not the driver's fault), I had possibly the worst car ride home.  The only thing worse than being nauseous and in a large amount of pain, is being in too much pain to actually be sick.  Maybe in hindsight that's a good thing?

We made it home, I rolled into my recliner, and can't say I did much other than walk to and from the bathroom, take my regularly scheduled painkillers (bless those pills, just bless them) and sleep for two days.  I couldn't even consider Netflix until Saturday night (seriously, that's how much I didn't want to be awake and feel the pain).

Finally, it started subsiding a bit yesterday.  I was able to *walk* (I use this term loosely, like a zombie would use the term *breathe*) over to Kelsey's lemonade stand, freak out a few passers-by, hang onto a tree for dear life, and then return home to collapse for several more hours.

After another good night's sleep and an even further ebbing of the pain, I was ready to pull out the big guns today.  I walked a roundtrip of approximately .10 miles to the steps of the basketball court so I could watch Nick ride his new bike.  Somewhere in there, I not only perfected my zombie shuffle, but very likely pulled something.  So, again, back home, in the recliner, down goes a painkiller (only one, but still), and I have to hope for the best that tomorrow will be a less painful day.

I would like to say that I really hope to never have another surgery related to this whole disaster.  I am sure for some there is some great cosmic lesson, but I have just found out that I really don't like scary diseases and I like multiple surgeries even less (like zero surgeries would have been just fine with me). So, I am finished with all of the above for a good, long time.  

Now, all of the above being said, I do owe a few thanks to those who have helped out so much over the past few days.

Salty Dogs:  For everything!  Sangria and margaritas on the beach, I promise!

Peter:  For your kind understanding when I ask you to fluff the pillow beneath my right leg *just so* about 18,000 times a day.

Caitlin:  For helping out Saturday afternoon and not saying a word.

Kelsey:  You noticed the very first time I walked on my own and congratulated me with a taste test of cookie dough.  Oh, and for being such an incredibly super-independent little Nugget!

Nick: You are an awesome Little/Big Guy and thank you so much for taking on every task I've given you, from getting me more seltzer to finding the remotes.  Even better?  Offering to help me walk to the bathroom, calling me "Sweetie" every time you ask if I need help, and reminding me that you are sorry I needed another surgery.

And, now I bid you good night, as the pain has kicked it up a notch again.  Let's end on a precious note, shall we?

Hi, ho, hi, ho, it’s off to the OR I go…

So as you are reading this, I'll likely be zonked out for the best nap I've had in months.  Yep, tomorrow is my 5th (I think?) surgery in 3-ish years and hopefully this will finally wrap things up (or tighten, more appropriately) for me for a good, long time! I am soooo tired of everything being dragged out.

In case you missed anything, I have what is essentially a hernia on the right side of my abdomen.  My abdominal wall collapsed over there and I can fix it or look half-pregnant (as in, on one side) for the rest of my life.  Think I'm gonna go with "fix-it" or  I will never be able to enjoy the fruits of my tummy tuck (okay, courtesy of the DIEP) labors. 

I have to be at the hospital at 10 a.m. tomorrow, the surgery is scheduled for noon and we should be home by the evening?  I have no idea about recovery, except that it generally takes two weeks and that those first two weeks will not include yoga or running.  I might have to catch up on my movie watching though, so feel free to send your recommendations my way.

I suppose one should not necessarily look forward to a surgical procedure, but this thing has been a royal pain in my side for nearly a year.  It can't be cured naturally and I'm really over the pain I'm in when I run or do yoga or sneeeze…you get the picture.  

The one good thing is that Peter is home and he can handle all of the day to day stuff.  It's been a while since he's really had to do it all, but I think he'll be just fine.  I might find 1,000 empty Coke Zero bottles on recycling day, but if that's the worst of it…

Now, medical stuff is not always fun, so let's move onto the good stuff!  Guess which family has:

• has a housing assignment (and all 5 of us are in love with it, especially the teenager with her own private bath)
• applied for new diplomatic passports
• figured out they don't need visas (one less thing to stress about)
• might have a pre-packout surve and packout dates soon

and…(this is a big one)….

we have an actual itinerary for our flight to Managua, to include seat assignments!  Of course, that means it's now time to work on the pet shipping side of the move equation, up the decluttering and organizing, plan home repairs and small improvements, arrange the car shipment, and the list goes on.  I tell you, the fun with moving never ends. Then again, this keeps our lives exciting and that's a good thing in my book.

Now, about that nap….