Iraq Bound

I love a party, most of the time, but this past weekend included a party/cookout that still produces tears.

My youngest son, Patrick, leaves for Iraq this coming weekend. I used to could say it without tearing up, now I can't even type it without the tears streaming down my face.

We had a great gathering of about 35 family and friends at my parents home yesterday afternoon. Most of the guests were family but there were several of Patrick's friends from high school there as well. It was fun to watch them interact with each other and enjoy talking about the times they have had in the past. They talked like it had been years when in fact, it had only been a few weeks for some and only a couple of years for others.

My dad called the group to order and welcomed everyone for coming to Patrick's going away dinner and turned the "program" over to Patrick's girl friend who presented him with a nice computer to take to Iraq with him. Her parents, my parents, David and I and she had decided that would be as good a gift as we could get him so he could carry a little bit of home with him.

After he opened his gift, he told Amanda he had something for her, too. He told her that the next 7 months were going to be hard and that he was glad she would be here waiting for him when he returned. He told her he wanted her to have something to remember him by and he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. Everyone there knew he was going to do it except her and we enjoyed watching her reaction and of course the two moms cried even though we had known it for weeks.

As the afternoon turned in to evening, the crowd divided up into various groups, mostly older and younger. But, I found myself having far too much fun with the younger crowd to sit with the older ones.

I wanted to be close to Patrick.

Everyone left and we sat up for a little while watching basketball and then retreated to bed. The next morning after the tables and chairs got returned and the breakfast dishes were finished, my mom, Patrick, his girlfriend, oops..... I mean fiance, and I watched some home videos of him and Daniel when they were little bitty things. Patrick was 2. I laughed and cried at the same time. Where has the time gone? What happened to that little boy squealing with excitement at Christmas, "Woooook what I dat!"

I hugged my son this afternoon, told him I loved him and I cried all the way home and have leaked most of the day. I will be in Jacksonville during the window of time he is to leave which will be Saturday, Sunday and Monday of next week. I will get to spend time with him but when he gets the call, he will leave for 7 months.

Please remember him and his unit and all our military persons in harms way. I know God will be watching over him but the thoughts of him being there is not comforting at all.

32-23-35

This past Tuesday was a great day. I had almost forgotten what it was like to stay up late to work on a school project, but I found out on Monday evening. I had a research paper due on Tuesday along with a presentation to the class on the research paper. Because I didn't want the class to watch me the entire time I was speaking, I wanted to prepare a PowerPoint presentation to go along with the oral report.

I got to Bunnlevel around 7 pm and after speaking to the folks in the house, I headed upstairs to get started. I realized I didn't want to use my research paper for the oral report, so I decided to write out exactly what I wanted to say on Tuesday morning. For some reason, this took way longer than I thought it should.

By 10:00, I decided I needed to go downstairs and put the potatoes on to boil that I would use for the potato salad I would be taking to Dr. Wakefield's house for our Senior Synthesis "party." After the salad was made, I went back upstairs to begin the PowerPoint. AT MIDNIGHT!!!!!

I'm too old for this junk. But by 2:15 am I was finished and satisfied with the outcome. However, I had to get up at 6:30 and my 8:00 class was the presentation. Needless to say, I survived and I am more than pleased that it's over. I was more scared of Dr. Harmon's questions that I was the actual presentation, but he went easy on me. Probably because EVERYONE ELSE ASKED QUESTIONS!!!!

Anyway, the day was completely downhill after that. It was a terrific day because I found out my sermon wasn't actually due this week but next week and it was already finished. How wonderful.

So, all this to say, the days are hastening by like big white clouds on a windy day. I feel like I am on my back in a hammock watching as my time at Campbell is drawing to an end.

32 days, 23 hours, 18 minutes and the hooding day will be upon us. Don't you love countdowns?

Falcons Anyone?

I was doing a little research on Falcons today since the Falcon man was at Campbell yesterday showing off his beautiful bird. I had watched Falcons on TV as they swooped down to pick up their prey and head off to the nest to enjoy dinner.

I began to wonder if I could train one to pick up select individuals and drop them in the ocean like maybe a teen-ager or a parent???? (Not you, mom. Call me for an explanation!!! :) )

After doing a little more research, I found out that these birds are quick powerful. The Falcon and its relatives: powerful birds, often the size of small hawks, they also have a black malar area (except some very light color morphs), and often a black cap also. Otherwise, they are somewhat intermediate between the other groups, being chiefly medium grey with some lighter or brownish colours on the upper side. They are on average more delicately patterned than the hobbies and if the hierofalcons are excluded (see below), this group contains typically species with horizontal barring on the underside. The tails of the large falcons are quite uniformly dark grey with rather inconspicuous black banding and small white tips, though this is probably plesiomorphic. These large Falco feed on mid-sized birds and terrestrial vertebrates, taking prey of up to 5-pound sage grouse size.

5 lbs????? Is that all? Dang, I guess I'm going to have to capture and train a pteradactyl.

Unattached Enough to Care

Sometimes I get a little concerned about myself during this whole CPE thing. I love it. My pager goes off and I get excited about the opportunity that awaits me either in a patient's room or in one of the units. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not thrilled about someone being in crisis, but the chance to be a comfort to someone is exciting. My concern comes when I seem to be emotionally unattached. It's as if I am picked up and set outside my self in order to be the strength of those in need.

I have had several instances where patients have stopped breathing and a Code Blue was called which automatically sends a buzz to my pager or when someone in a particular room just wants to talk to a chaplain. Both are opportunities that God has given me that I might minister to the needs of those who call.

Sitting in a conference room awaiting the doctor's visit that will bring the news of the death of a loved one is not a fun place to be. However, being able to wrap my arms around a grieving mother or father, wife or husband, son or daughter and praying with a receptive family allows me to feel God is using me in a very special way.

Are there right words to say in all circumstances? No way! I got run out of a room the other week because to the one whom I visited, I was perceived as the shadow of death and no way was she ready to see me. But, that's ok, too. It just allows me to realize the vastness of what chaplains have to do.

What shocks me more than anything about being a chaplain, is how you can remove yourself from the situation enough to be a comfort and stronghold for a family who has just lost a loved one or of a family member who has been involved in some sort of crisis. But, I think God has protected me to this point. My calls have mostly been to expected demises. It is still tough times for family members, but because I am not emotionally attached I am able to give them the strength through my faith when maybe their's may be weak.

I have yet to be called to the Emergency Department or any other department for the death of a child. That may be the day I crumble. But so far God has provided me the strength I have needed to minister to hurting folks. Thank you, God, for allowing me to do what I feel is what you have called me to be and for allowing me to be unattached enough to care.

Dang, Cars are Expensive

You know it's bad when your mom emails you and says, "I think it's time you posted a new blog. This is the only way I can keep up with you." So, here goes.

Last Saturday I realized my inspection sticker was worthless so I headed to Fast Eddie's, my regular stopping place for oil changes and inspections. I walked in and told the guy I needed my oil changed and my car inspected. He asked me if I had the registration card and I did, so he told me to "pull it behind the little blue car" and I'd be next. As I parked my car behind the "little blue car" I got the registration card out of the glove compartment and decided to read a little while I waited. I glanced at the card and saw that it expired the 15th of February. Not good! It was the 29th of February.

I started my car and headed home. The license plate place is not opened on Saturdays so I was going to have to wait until Monday. "Lord, please don't let me get stopped before I get this taken care of."

I was on-call Sunday so not only did I have to wait until Monday to take care of my car, but I was going to have to drive 40 miles to Wilmington on Sunday morning and back on Monday morning. Again, I prayed, "Lord, please, please don't let me get stopped before I get this taken care of on Monday."

I got home Monday morning and even though I really needed a nap, I drove straight to the license plate place and stood in the long line to get my sticker for my tag. Finally, it was my turn and I walked to the counter, presented my registration card and told the lady I would like to get my new sticker. She tapped and tapped on her computer and looked at me as if it were sheer pleasure to say, "You're car has a tax block on it. You will have to go to the tax office and get a receipt before you can get your sticker." WHAT????? A tax block?

As I drove 12 miles back toward Wilmington to go to the Government Complex where the tax office is located, I saw that my last name was not correct on my registration card. Could this be why I don't remember getting a bill for my vehicle taxes? Who knows?

I went in, paid the bill and came out with my receipt and was going to head back to the license plate place but realized it was going to be closed for lunch, so I headed home for a little bit. After having a bite to eat and visiting with my husband for a brief moment, I headed back to Shallotte. Again, I stood in a long line and finally arrived at the counter. I got the sticker, but I asked her why my last name was not correct. She said I would have to change it with the DMV. I told her I had done that a week after I got married (22 months ago) but she said I would have to do it with her and I needed my title. My title! I have it, but it's in the car. Am I going to go back out to the car to come back in to stand in line to have my name changed? NOT TODAY.

I put the sticker on while I was still parked in the parking lot and headed to Fast Eddie's. I walked in all proud with my new registration sticker in my hand and told the guy (not Eddie) that I needed my oil changed and my car inspected. He looked at me and told me that they were inspecting their last car for the day. They do inspections from 7:30 am until 3:00 pm.

IT WAS 10 MINUTES UNTIL 3:00!!!!!!!!!!!

I said, "It's 10 minutes until 3:00" and he informed me I should have been there by 2:30. I was ticked!!!! It's Monday afternoon and I've had no sleep from a 24 hour 0n-call at the hospital and I'm not real personable at this point. The young man told me he would be glad to change my oil but I'd have to wait for the inspection. "Nope," I said, and walked out the door. I went to two other places and no one could do my inspection on Monday.

I went home, called Black's Tire and made arrangements to get my car inspected this morning (Tuesday). I was there at 7:30 this morning. I'M ON SPRING BREAK!!!! And I waited 2 hours as they changed my oil and inspected my car. As they pulled my car out of the bay and parked it in their parking area, I was thrilled to know the process was over. It took about 10 minutes to pay the lady and walked out to my car. The idiots left my engine running!!!!!!!

I'm now legal to ride up and down the highway, but not without spending a small fortune and burning a half tank of gas.