Saturday, June 30, 2018

And we still own a car... in ARGENTINA!


Merida Espectacular!
Last I heard, we are still the owners of our Chevy Meriva in Puerto Madryn.  We had a fantastic deal worked out with the used car salesman. We bought the car for $8500 in September, and he agreed to buy the car back in June for 20% less.  Fabulous.  We'll take it.  We asked to get the deal in writing, but we were told by our friends that is not how things are done in Argentina, and it wouldn't matter if we did.  We were informed that the señor was very trustworthy, and a man's word was more important than a written agreement.

Gracias Mariana!!
We did everything the dealer said with the help of Mariana and Luciano.  We got the car maintenance.  We paid for insurance.  We obtained blue cards, so we could legally drive the car.  Everything. 

We have had a few experiences with car salesmen in the US who meet the slimy stereotype, so we were always a little apprehensive.  Two weeks before our departure, our Mariana called the dealer, and he confirmed that that he would buy the car back for $6000.  He took a little more than the original agreement of 20%, but we always expected an extra cut (taxes and fees or whatever), so we didn't make a fuss.  

On the day of our flight at the arranged time, Adam took the car into the shop to finalize the details.  The dealer sat him down and told him that the economy was different now, and he could only pay half the price for the car.  WHAT THE CHE BOLUDO?  Adam heard a saga...  Our friend Luciano seemed unfazed.  "This is Argentina," he said, "What do we expect?  Things are really bad now."  It was hard for us to understand how things changed so quickly in two weeks.  We looked at the numbers, and they told a different story.  

Thank you Mariana y Luciano!  We couldn't
do any of this without you!
Every Argentinian with whom we shared the story told us the same thing.  "That's Argentina!!"

Well...  the car is in the process of being sold back to the trustworthy car salesman for less than 50% of what we paid, and we have no idea where the title is.  AHHH!!  If I remember correctly, it is in an envelope, high out of reach, on top of a kitchen cabinet in our first home that Adam evacuated in haste due to the bird mite infestation less than a month after my accident while I was still being treated for meningitis in Buenos Aires.  WHEW!  It is probably still there.  Geez Adam, how could you have missed it?  Maybe the mites ate it?  

The good news is ...  It is Argentina.  I am sure someone can make a "new" title for a few pesos.  Sometimes the system can help you, and sometimes it can hurt.  You have to take advantage while you can!  Now THAT is Argentina!

And we love Argentina!!  Antonio y yo con nuestras
camisas de ARENTINA!  MESSI!!
Mundial!  World Cup!
We were up early to watch France vs. Argentina
Saturday morning, and we were all crying at the end!

Home... One year later...

We don't have a huge house by American standards, but it feels enormous.  I miss our little two bedroom, one bath, backyard cottage in Puerto Madryn.  The kids and I could clean the whole place in 30 minutes, and our possessions were minimal.

Our Seattle renter moved to his new location last week, and we were able to move back in early.  The house required extensive cleaning, and even with the help of professionals, it has been exhausting.  It is the exact reason I was dreading the return to Seattle life.  Seeing friends is awesome.  Taking care of a 2400 sq. ft., five bedroom, three bath house is too much.   The amount of work required to keep everything clean, organized, and running efficiently is no joke.

Six months before we left on sabbatical, we parted ways with our weekly house cleaners after they took the kids' Halloween candy several weeks in a row and then tried to raise the rates.  I was slightly annoyed.  It came at an insanely busy time in our lives, but I taught the kids how to clean every part of the house, and for two hours on Friday afternoons, we busted it out and got it done.  It was satisfying and somehow fun, and it felt really good when it was finished, and we had a sparkly-clean home.  The kids learned responsibility and skills.


So many boogers on the walls.
I am not making this up!!

Too many to count.


A little Sharpie greeting on
the wall welcoming us home.
I can't get it off!!  Help!!
When we got back in the house last week, we worked together again.  We cleaned walls, chairs, rugs, floors, organized...  We dusted baseboards, scrubbed burners, and chased cobwebs.  The list went on and on.  The items I wish I had banned from entering the house includes: boogers, sharpies, boogers, hot glue guns, boogers, exploding ink pens, boogers, cat claws and litter (although that might have made a bigger mess 😝), and BOOGERS!!

Sofia so happy in her explosion. 
We are not finished, but our house is beginning to resemble our normal life.  Box after box is coming in from the garage.  The kids take the explosion approach in their rooms while Adam and I are methodical and finish one box before moving on to the next.

As each item is extracted, I wonder why I need it.  I survived a year full of joy and peace and happiness without it, but now I am putting it in a drawer or on a shelf or in a closet.  Why?

I dream of a simpler life, but I dream that dream on a super comfy, extra cozy, foam mattress with the twinkle of the Space Needle visible through the window as I snuggle under my down comforter.  UGH!!  WHY?!?!?!?

Carmela loves her chaos!

Friday, June 22, 2018

Doctors and Doctors and Doctors...


Adam and I arrived in Seattle on Tuesday night, and my chain of doctorsappointments began Wednesday morning at 9:00 AM.  First the knee doctor, who confirmed everything Claudio told me at CIK, gave me some ideas to continue to strengthen my legs for running, and done.  Easy! 

Swimming in Lake Union in the center of Seattle
Enjoying it while I can with the people I love!
Wednesday morning was the orthopedic surgeon who specializes in shoulders.  He was awesome.  He reviewed all of my x-rays before and after the accident and explained to me the severity of the break and shoulder damage.  The bone was snapped off below the ball, the blood supply cut off and part of the rotator cuff is missing.  He ordered an MRI for July 2 to see if there is anything left to surgically repair  or help grow new muscles back.  He encouraged me to continue my physical therapy.  He was so shocked to see my range of motion, even with the help of my right hand, that I got teary.  He did express concern that I may never be able to have normal usage with my shoulder if I truly lack some of the rotator cuff muscles.  The MRI will answer those questions.

After meeting with the orthopedic surgeon, I went across the hall and checked in with the neurosurgeon. That was a frustrating appointment. The CatScan I had in Puerto Madryn in April was done with the intention of having the prostetic implant made for my head in May, so I could have surgery in June.  Whew!  

Enjoying Summer Time!
Well, life doesnt always work out as planned, and Kaiser sent an encrypted copy of the scan to the implant manufacturer. The company was unable to open the file and prepare the prostetic.  Sadly, no one followed up on this, and the piece was never made.  Only because I was in the doctors office, the neurosurgery team contacted the company and found out the news.  Now they have put the piece on special order and hope to have it here by July 12 – my newly scheduled day for surgery.

I am following up with Kaiser this week to ensure that the implant is being made, and unfortunately my emails and phone messages have been ignored.  So much for the 24 hour turn around time.  The good news is that I have a little extra time to enjoy summer and swim before I am sporting a half shaved head, huge worm shaped incision, and orders to keep out of the water.  

Finally on Thursday, I went to my first physical therapy appointment.  It was so different from how I was spoiled in Argentina.  I met the PT in a small cubicle with four austere walls, a computer, rolling stretcher, and no gym equipment.  I spent most of the hour answering questions and explaining my therapy and exercises in Puerto Madryn.  In the end, she surmised that the CIK plan was great; I should keep doing the exercises and come back in a few weeks.  

That was it, and all for the love price of $235.00.  What the ?*$?!  I have to cover the deductible and then it will only cost $50 a session - the same price that I paid for five days a week at CIK with 2.5 hours a day of therapy, contortion, exercises, structure, and a million blessings.  As Claudio just reminded me in an email this week, the moto is, Y SIEMPRE SONRIENDO!AND ALWAYS SMILING!  I would have it no other way!  

This is exactly how I feel - like an upside down monkey!

Hugs and Kisses

I miss the friendly kiss on the cheek that greeted us multiple times a day in Argentina.  It is a lovely custom and a beautiful way to welcome not just friends and family, but everyone encountered.  It is sublime and warm compared to our American handshakes which can be a limp noodle or ridged board and often lack eye contact.  



One of the things I love about Americans is our strong hugs.  We don't share them with the world as Argentinian's share kisses, but we share them with many.   



Coming back to a love full of embraces was a beautiful gift.  Arms wrapped long and strong.  When Bridget picked us up from the airport our rocking squeeze caught the attention of the lady next to us, and even she had a few tears in her eyes.  

Meeting up with our Seattle crew on Saturday night was a blast.  Hug after hug after hug of love.  After all of the trauma it was the first time to see so many friends.  The genuine concern was palpabale, yet I felt normal and healthy and strong.  When my head is half shaved, and I am sporting a huge semicircle of a worm shaped scar in a few weeks, I'll feel the part of the weak.  The party is not over!  





Adam and I savored another wonderful reunion over a two hour breakfast with Fr. Bryan from St. Ben's, our regular parish.  Fr. Bryan is my priest and friend.  We are the same age, both love fitness, food, wine, and Catholicism, so it is a good mix.  Despite the fact that our clothes were packed up and he would be wearing a Messi jersey, Fr. Bryan invited Caleb Antonio to have his First Holy Communion the following morning during mass.  Antonio was thrilled, and our welcome back to the parish was another opportunity to enjoy a mountain of embraces.  





Unlike the Southern Hemisphere kisses, the hugs aren't always appropriate.  There is a line.  I really wanted to embrace my primary care physician to thank him for all of his help in setting me up with specialists and responding to my emails so quickly, and even though he is young and chill, I respected the line.  We stuck to the handshake and a big smile, and we both enjoyed the test results that deemed my blood clean after three transfusions!  Yeah!!  

Thank you nice clean Argentinian blood donors!!  You rock!!

Friday, June 8, 2018

Saying Goodbye Sucks

For as long as I can remember, my mom has disapproved of the word suck.  When I was a kid, saying it risked getting my mouth washed out with soap.  Suck is strong and vulgar, but sometimes it is the precise word for the moment, and when leaving Madryn, it was the only word that came to mind.  I am risking the soap!  

I love these ladies!!  Thank you Sonia!
I don’t cry often, but goodbyes can bring out my emotions.  My waterfalls started at therapy on Friday morning and continued as I picked the kids up from their last day of school.  

I can never thank Claudio enough.
He is the reason I can move my
arm and run again. 





In January, I walked in the door at CIK physically weak and wrecked, and I left in June with strength and the groundwork for a full recovery.  Claudio and Sonia helped restore my life and my body. Their consistent smiles, love, and care for people and patients is a testimony to their dedication and joy in their work.  


I was so teary on Friday that with a smile and laugh Claudio told my well-wishers to stop talking to me to avoid more downpours.  I was such a mess that I had to go back in on Monday morning for a real goodbye with a smile, love, and mostly dry eyes.  

AN-TO - as his friends love to call him.
Defina, Vicki, Juani, Anto, Simon, Francisco 
Picking up the kids from La Escuela de la Costa for the last time brought on another waterfall.  At the end of the day ceremony, SoJo and Antonio were selected to take down and carry the Argentinian flag as the school sang the bandera song.  

Flor, Delfina, Paula, Matilda, Sofia, Delfi
Surrounding SoJo with Love
Watching my two gringos sing and carefully fold the pride of their adopted country engorged my heart.  In their final moments they were recognized by the teachers, and the students began chanting SO-FI, AN-TO-NIO, louder and louder until the gymnasium was exploding with energy.  

They were swarmed with beautiful, strong hugs, love, friends, and hope.  They shined in friendship, and I stood on the sideline, tears streaming down my red, snotty face while videotaping the jubilee. 

In addition to packing, returning, dispersing, and organizing our nine months of Patagonian life, the rest of the weekend was spent enjoying friends with hopes of seeing them again… one day...  I’ll let the pictures tell the story.    

La CIK Familia de Gymnasia Mañana
Los quiero!

Lubina!  Sushi dinner!
Love you!!
SoJo's last sleepover with Delfi, Laura, and Martina
Ale and Javi - always a good time!!


It might be a little out of focus, because we were!
Good times with Ale, Javier, friends and family!



La Sagrada Familia
Padre Fabian
Another tearful goodbye
The parroquia has been an incredible blessing in our lives.

Carmela wouldn't let me attend her despedida
and last moments at school -
I am too embarrassing!
But I was allowed to snap a picture at her last pijamada
sleepover with Pau, Martina, and Cami.
Friends for life.

Stella.  I don't have words to describe our friendship.
A gift, a treasure, love.

POCHOCHO! Lula, Mumo and Delfi!
They are in our hearts and we will think of them
daily as we enjoy Lulu's paintings!
See you soon in Seattle!


The Verduleria!
Always the best from these awesome caballeros!

And finally - the folks at CENPAT!
Mil Gracias!!
The reason we are were able to enjoy our time
in Puerto Madryn!
Thank you Mariana y Luciano y Todos!
Que rico asado!!
This is embarrassing...
Why do we have so much luggage???
Because I am bringing home kilos of
YERBA MATE!!!


Friday, June 1, 2018

Death and Suffering

Food for Thought... What do you think of death and suffering??  I would love to read your comments.  

As a child I was afraid of death and the unknown.  Pictures of angels playing harps and floating on clouds never appealed to me as a way in which I wanted to spend eternity, and the fiery infernos looked sweaty and miserable.  I wanted a peaceful, sleeping passage, and I hoped that I would be worthy of a heaven filled with love, parties, friends, and family.  

Three fabulous reasons to stay alive!  


Over time my fear diminished, yet I rarely spent time contemplating the next life.  Then, in early 2017 I read a book, of which I cannot remember the name, but it prompted me to rethink the most desirable way to go on to my next existence.  I cannot avoid death, and it is a transition to a new quiddity, so why not experience that reality in a conscience state of mind to actualize and discover it?  I don't know anyone who remembers the crushing experience of their birth, but what an astounding moment that must have been.  

The more I thought about it, the more I was intrigued, and I revised my previous hopes for an unconscious journey into a desire to experience the transition fully.  I am not in a hurry, but this new idea caused me to reexamine my feelings around death, and upon some inner reflection, I realized that I no longer fear death.  
Sunrise on Our 18th Wedding Anniversary

My lack of anxiety was tested when a distraught Adam sat down on my ICU bed in November, looked me in the eyes, and explained to me that my gram negative meningitis had a 30% mortality rate.  Upon further research, after the fact, I learned the mortality rate is actually 40-80%.  Yikes!  We talked about it, and I told him I wasn't afraid to die.  I truly wasn't.  I was at peace and joyful, and that may have caused him more stress.  I wanted to live to raise my children, but I joked in sincerity, that death would actually be easier on my end.  He gave me the crazy eyes.  

I remember telling him that if I died, he had my blessing to marry a woman that would be wonderful with our kids, and I reminded him that I was relying on his atheist self to raise our kids Catholic, reviewing the commitment he made years before I was ever pregnant.  

Happy Anniversary!  May 27, 2000
When people say, "He was hit so hard; he never felt it," there is truth to that.  I broke a windshield with my head, and I have no memory of feeling the pain, although that doesn't necessarily mean it didn't happen in the moment.  That idea was comforting because the thought of suffering makes me nervous.  I do not want an impairment or excessive pain, and so far I have avoided suffering, thanks to God, an amazing husband, family, doctors, nurses, therapists, friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends... 

One of my concerns upon returning to Puerto Madryn was our remote location.  When we left the airport, I looked across the barren plains, and I hoped they wouldnt bite me in the butt.  I was only a month free of meningitis, and the thought of it returning thousands of kilometers from the Buenos Aires hospitals was nerve-wracking.  Multiple Madryn natives told me that I was fortunate the accident didn't happen in our little town.  The hospital is not equipped to deal with emergency brain surgery and complications, and I likely would have journeyed on to the next reality.  

I consciously avoid thinking about the possibility of suffering and complications.  The possibilities are numerous...  Maybe the blood transfusions I received were tainted; maybe I will become blind or paralyzed or have a stroke during the cranioplasty; maybe I will fall and hit the hole in my head; maybe a stray corner or elbow or nerf bullet will impale the area above my left ear; maybe I will get a fever and need to have another spinal puncture to check for a new meningitis.  I have never been good at putting worry aside, so I am grateful things are different now.  I haven't lost a moments sleep, and I easily push negative thoughts aside and focus on the positive.  I can only attribute my peace to my faith, and I thank God for it!


My DJ's Top Ten

Hey DJ!  Turn the MUSIC UP RIGHT NOW!

Carmela is a music addict.  Everyone else in our family enjoys moments of quiet, but that girl can listen to music all day, everyday, non-stop, ceaselessly, incessantly, relentlessly, on and on while working, eating, texting, writing, doing homework, everything.  The first word out of her mouth when she walks in the house every time is always, "Musica?"

When the rest of the family has had enough, she pops on the cordless, mobil headset and dances on with life.

I love it because I enjoy music, but don't take the time to play it often enough.  With Carmela around, I don't have to worry.

She has imbued us with a year of her favorite Argentinian/Latino hits, and we all sing along.  Whenever I hear these songs in the future, I will immediately be transported back to our Patagonian life through the power of music.


And because it cracks me up... this is how she
rolls - literally rolls - to the panaderia
for the morning bread.  

.