In the Eye of the Storm

Family dinner at El Rancho the day after my trip to the emergency room:

Mark, Dylan, Jake, Jacob, Sarah, and Mary. (Chris was on a camp-out.)

Friday, May 17, 2019

Despite the ongoing pain and uncertainty of discovering my first kidney stone, with all the nightmarish details involved, I'll be forever grateful for the days following the Thursday night I spent in the ER. I don't know how, I don't know why, but my symptoms completely disappeared and I felt wonderful all day on Friday and Saturday and half of Sunday.

On the morning after my visit to the emergency room, I called to make an appointment with the urologist, as ordered; dropped off my three new prescriptions at Walmart; and drove myself to the hospital for an x-ray so they could pinpoint the exact location of my inert kidney stone. They'd told me at the emergency room that the stone was 6.4 mm wide, but we learned from the x-ray that it was actually 8 mm wide and 20 mm long. That monster was not going anywhere without assistance. Especially when we realize the tube (ureter) it was trying to pass through is only 3-4 mm wide.

After the x-ray, I stopped by Walmart again to pick up my prescriptions and just happened to run into Sarah as I walked in. She'd barely started her lunch hour, so she joined me on my walk to the pharmacy. I decided to pick up a few other things while I was there, so we started down one of the wide aisles toward the back of the store. Up ahead, we saw my son Jacob enter the aisle from the direction of the automotive section.

We all did a double-take. Jacob stared at us. We stared at him. The last time we'd spoken to him was from the hospital the previous night, when I'd told him I was going to be fine so he didn't need to drive up from Mesa. Seeing him so unexpectedly was a little confusing, as in "One of these things doesn't belong here..."

After Jacob overcame the urge to try and duck us, since it was obviously too late to pretend we hadn't recognized him, he grinned and joined us. For some reason, both my sons feel it's necessary to try and surprise us every time they do anything. I keep telling them it will blow up in their faces someday, when they travel for hours only to discover the target surprisee is out of town for a few days or something. Still, they persist.

As it turned out, Jacob had barely gotten into town and stopped to visit his brother, Dylan, at work in the automotive department. (Unlike Sarah or me, Dylan knew Jacob was coming up.) Jacob had planned to surprise me at home after seeing Dylan. Instead, we surprised him! He told us he'd gone to work in Phoenix that morning, but when he mentioned he'd been up late because his mom was in the hospital, he was told, "What are you doing here? Take the rest of the day off, go be with your mom!"

I want this Instagram filter permanently installed

on both my cell phone and my camera! May 18, 2019

Since Sarah, Chris, Dylan, and Jake had to work that day, we weren't all able to get together until the evening. Jacob came over to visit with his dad and me for the afternoon, and then he joined Jake for some running around with friends later. It was after 7:30 when we were all finally able to meet up for our traditional family meal at El Rancho Mexican restaurant.

On Saturday, however, we got to spend the whole day together. Mark had to work, but he was home by 2:00. Sarah already had the day off, Jake took half the day off, and Dylan took the entire day. Chris got back from camping, but he doesn't work on Saturdays anyway.

We spent some time reliving my harrowing first experience with the horrors of giant kidney stones, and the kids continued to give me a hard time about my obsession with my uncombed, damp hair throughout the emergency. They, themselves, were obsessing over the use of various filters on their phone cameras, laughing riotously over how each other looked as a cat, a zombie, or members of the opposite sex.

I finally said, "They need a filter that removes wrinkles and gives you smooth skin and nice hair!" I think it was Dylan who told me, "Instagram already has one that does that!" So he snapped the above photo using that filter. I approve! How can you not love a filter that puts the mascara on for you?

Sarah watches while Jake, Dylan, and Jacob play video games.

The kids spent their time doing the things they all grew up enjoying together, from sharing favorite foods, to playing old and new video games, to teasing and wrestling, to checking out memes and videos on each others' phones. As for me, I just love chatting with them and watching them enjoy each others' company.

Jacob was the only one of us who hadn't tried out Jake's Jedi Challenge

Augmented Reality (AR) game yet.

For dinner on Saturday night, Jacob helped me make two big pans of Jalapeno Popper Chicken Casserole, a delicious new dish that Mark and I have had twice now, but our kids hadn't experienced yet. It was a big hit. As it happened, in all the madness I had completely forgotten that I'd invited the sister missionaries to have dinner with us that evening, so when they texted to confirm on Saturday morning, I simply added them to our big family meal. With steamed asparagus and a big garden salad served on the side, there was plenty of food for everyone. And it was nice to have two new, young voices to join the fun.

Typical family get-together, with everyone on their phones:

Chris, Jake, and Dylan, with Sarah in the background.

Since I've been trying to use up a lot of the food in my freezer to make room for more sale items, especially meats when there's a great sale (first-world problems, right?), I suggested we have smoothies for dessert. That helped get rid of two bags of frozen fruits, plus it was delicious! And Jacob did a low-carb version for Sarah and me.

Jacob makes a sugar-free chocolate-berry smoothie dessert

for Sarah and me after dinner on Saturday.

Sunday was a little quieter. Dylan, Jake, and Mark had to work, but Sarah was off so she came over to spend the morning with us. Dylan had a later start at work, so he was able to come by for an hour before he had to be on his way. It was fun to watch them compete on a very old Wii game, Shrek Super Party, that Dylan had recently unearthed. It brought back so many memories of the kids and their friends, lined up on the floor in front of our living room couch, competing in the crazy Shrek-themed sports.

On Jacob's last day, Sunday morning, Dylan stops by on his way to work,

to play Shrek Super Party with his siblings (an old favorite from their childhood).

After Dylan had to leave, Sarah challenged Jacob to a final hand of Skip-Bo. She won, as she usually does. She's a master of strategy when it comes to some of these card games. Her brothers often accuse her of cheating. Hmmm...

Jacob headed back to the Valley around 12:30, since he had to be back at work on Monday morning, so Sarah went home to relax. She planned to return by 5:00 to watch the final 3-hour episode of American Idol with her dad and me.

Sarah and Jacob play a hand of Skip-Bo before he heads home around 12:30.

I don't know if I'd realized during this "eye of the storm" what a miracle it was that my pain had entirely disappeared for the complete length of Jacob's visit and resultant family togetherness. I suppose I was hoping that the stone had passed while at the hospital and it was all over, despite the extreme unlikelihood of such a scenario.

If I'd truly believed that, boy, was I wrong! One and a half hours (at 2:00) after Jacob left, the pain returned, underscoring what a great blessing it had been to be pain-free for so long. This pain felt exactly the same as I'd felt on Thursday, although not quite as strong or intense. It was still enough to make me double over, but weakened enough that I was able to take it with minimal moaning and groaning.

The pain lasted for four hours and was still there when Sarah returned to watch American Idol. It eased up around 6:00, but very quickly returned and didn't entirely fad away until after 8:30. I took the narcotics I'd been given--hydrocodone and tramadol--but soon learned that they didn't even begin to touch the pain. And I wasn't allowed to take ibuprofen before my upcoming procedure, due to its mild blood-thinning effect.

There was more pain early in the morning on Monday, but I felt well enough to see my primary doctor at 10:15 to discuss two cysts in the middle of my back that had gotten infected in late March and still hadn't completely healed seven weeks later. (When it rains, it pours.) I was also able to keep my 1:30 chiropractor appointment, but another bout of pain set in on the drive home.

Then Monday night was a near-repeat of Thursday. The pain had me curled into a ball on the couch, sobbing loudly and crying out in frustration and agony. I was desperate enough to take two hydrocodone pills, but it only made me throw up. The pain lasted a full three hours, from 6:00 to 9:00, before it began to subside. I knew then that the stone was still stuck and I was going to have to take the next step the doctor had recommended, something called a lithotripsy.

I visited this office, shared by three urologists.

The pain was better on Tuesday, but I was still so nauseous that I hardly ate a thing all day. At 9:00 that morning, I had my first ever urology appointment. Given the size of the stone, the doctor was already prepared to set me up for the lithotripsy procedure at the hospital the following day. (I love that word, lithotripsy. I can hear Gollum hissing, "Is his litho tripsy, my Precious? Is it?") 

Wanting to spread around the "joy" of toting mom here and there, I asked Dylan to take me to the hospital on Wednesday, since he was off that day. He picked me up after I returned from dropping Mark at work, and we arrived at the hospital before 6:30 a.m. He spent more than an hour with me before he left with my clothes and other belongings. My procedure was scheduled for 8:30, but they got me back to the operating room and sedated well before that.

The main entrance to our local hospital.

While I get a little nervous about being "put under," I do appreciate how quickly it happens and how it's all over in the blink of an eye. The nurse said, "Sleep tight," and two seconds later another nurse was asking, "What's your name?" I've often thought that dying while under anesthesia wouldn't be a terrible thing. No pain or fear, you just wake up somewhere else. Like when you're a child and you fall asleep on the couch but magically wake up in your own bed the next morning.

As for the lithotripsy, it's a procedure where they pummel the stone with sound waves to break it into smaller, more manageable pieces. I was picturing a gentle ultrasound, but apparently it's far more complex and tougher on the body. Hence the sedation. They described how I'd have a thin water mattress placed under me, and then they'd slide in a wedge to raise my "left flank." The procedure typically takes about an hour, and they said I'd feel bruised along my left side for a few days.

"Bruised" doesn't begin to describe it. As soon as I woke up, I was painfully aware that Rocky Balboa had spent the past hour practicing punches on my rib cage. It's been nine days since the procedure, and I'm still very sore, having to be careful how I move. It's not nearly as bad as the first week, when it was agonizing to take a deep breath, sneeze, cough, blow my nose, burp...well, you get the picture. It's still nearly impossible to find a sleeping position that doesn't hurt, so I'm not sleeping very well. During the day I nap for an hour or two in a recliner.

The bruise from my IV is still visible today, nine days later.

The hospital called Dylan to pick me up at 10:00. They'd told me I'd be released around 11:00, but I was home by 10:30. I went straight to bed and spent most of the next two days there, dozing and crying, dozing and crying. I couldn't get comfortable, but I was exhausted. This old body doesn't bounce back like it used to.

The lithotripsy was deemed to be successful. Over the next five days, I felt the stones pressing through the ureter on at least a dozen occasions. It was the same old recognizable discomfort, but I could feel that the stones were shifting and moving, as if there were a purpose to the pain. In fact, the pain in my ribs caused the greater suffering now. I was hopeful that all the little pieces of my original stone were on their way out and the whole nightmare was almost over.

The last episode of kidney-stone pain was around 5:00 a.m. on Monday. For the rest of that day, as well as Tuesday and Wednesday, I felt almost like my old self. I got a lot accomplished and started to draw a breath of relief. On Thursday (yesterday) I went to the chiropractor and then back to the hospital for another abdomen x-ray.

By the afternoon, though, I wasn't doing so great. I started getting severe stomach cramps and horrible nausea. I ached all over. It felt like I was being poisoned. I hate taking drugs. That may be why I've developed a generally high tolerance for pain, because I'd literally rather deal with pain than with drugs and their side effects. Unless you're talking about super-sized kidney stones. Or urinary tract infections. Those are the two things that will turn me into a big baby begging for drugs. 

At any rate, I wondered if the variety of recent drugs I'd taken were making me sick. I'd given up on the narcotic painkillers more than a week earlier, so they weren't to blame. I'd been living on ibuprofen, one every four hours, since the lithotripsy to blunt the edge of the rib pain, but I'd actually been able to quit those a few days earlier. My primary doctor put me on an antibiotic last week in preparation for cutting out the cysts on my back next week, but I'd quit that drug after three doses since it was too strong and made me sick last week. I'd started on a different, less noxious antibiotic Wednesday afternoon, but I doubted the two doses I'd taken so far were creating such a huge problem so quickly.

Back to the hospital yesterday for a second x-ray to look for lingering stones.

I woke up still nauseous this morning, but I had my follow-up appointment with the urologist. He showed me yesterday's x-ray. There are two tiny stones remaining in the ureter near the left kidney, which he described as not much bigger than dust particles. However, there is also a 1.8 mm stone that was "kicked" back up into the kidney during the procedure. He said that was the most likely cause of my cramping and nausea, which continued into this evening, along with the sharp sensation of another stone trying to pass.

For some reason, the doctor didn't feel that these remaining stones were going to pass on their own, although he also said he didn't think they were going to create problems. The next step, he explained, would be going in to clear them out and leaving a stint in place for a week. I really don't want to do that, so I told him I'd rather wait and see what happens on its own. Next week, another x-ray and another appointment.

I can't even express my disappointment at learning this may not be over any time soon. I want my life back. Please, say a prayer for me!

Stoned

Family support in the emergency room: Mark, Jake, Sarah, and Dylan.

Please ignore the uncombed hair...

May 16, 2019

I'd been feeling some odd pressure in my abdomen for a few weeks, but then it would fade away. After three particularly persistent days, May 5-7, I wondered if I should see a doctor, but then it went away entirely. Until Thursday of last week.

It had been a typical morning, doing a couple loads of laundry and washing dishes and so on. Around 2:00 I sat at my computer to check emails and Facebook. That's when the pressure came back, stronger than ever. By 4:00, it was growing quite painful, but I'm a stubborn woman. My plan had been to jump in the shower, and no pain was going to stop me.

By the time I shut off the shower and got out, the pain was near-crippling. Still, I continued with my usual routine of applying body lotion, flossing and brushing my teeth, moisturizing my face, and choosing clothes. However, before I could get dressed, the pain brought me to my knees, literally. I doubled over, my legs buckled, and I fell across the bed. 

I managed to grab my phone and call my daughter, Sarah. It's no exaggeration to say I was sobbing and gasping with pain (the term "weeping and wailing" holds new meaning for me). I told her I needed her to drive me to the emergency room. I could hear the panic in her voice when she said she'd be right over. Then I called Eugene, the husband of my friend Wyndie as well as a member of our bishopric at church, and I asked him to come give me a blessing. They live just a few houses away, so I knew he could be here quickly if he was home from work. Thankfully, he was.

This all sounds so calm, but the truth is that I was having a hard time thinking. At first I couldn't even remember how to find the phone numbers in my cell phone. Then I didn't know who to call or what to do. In the midst of all this, my gulping sobs and cries of pain had woken Mark from his nap and he came in to see what was wrong. He wanted to help, but I could barely talk coherently and I didn't want to be touched.

Meanwhile, I struggled to put on my shirt. Part of my brain still recognized that it would be unseemly to be seen in just my underwear by my friend's husband. I got the shirt over my head, but the towel holding up my wet hair fell off on my sheets and stayed there. Combing my hair was out of the question, since I couldn't even stand by this time. I couldn't even pull on my jeans.

It wasn't long before I realized I couldn't put Sarah through this. I was becoming seriously dizzy, sometimes feeling as if I might pass out. I couldn't seem to get my breath, and I knew my blood pressure had to be dangerously high by this time. I was more concerned that I was going to give myself a stroke than I was about any possible cause of the pain. How traumatized would Sarah be if I were to become unconscious or worse while she was driving me to the hospital?

It took a minute, but I finally remembered the number to call was 911. The dispatcher's calm voice helped me focus, although I had trouble recalling my address at first. I was eventually able to correct her when she repeated my street name as Navajo Lane, which would have sent the paramedics to the middle of Lakeside, but I live on Navajo Way, which is located in the county rather than the city. She stayed on the line with me until I reported that I heard people arriving.

Sarah arrived at almost the same time as Eugene, so she helped me get my jeans on. Then all three of them supported me into the living room, where I collapsed on the couch. Eugene gave me the blessing I'd requested, finishing up as about nine paramedics came rolling into my living room. It was comforting to see the smiling face of a long-time friend, Aaron, among them.

It's funny the bits and pieces that stick in your mind in the midst of madness. I remember the paramedics calling out my oxygen level of 97 (I was pretty much hyperventilating) and blood pressure of 180 over 85. When they asked what meds I take, I knew I wouldn't be able to remember or list them, so Sarah gathered the bottles from the cupboard for them. Then the one working directly with me asked if I'd had anything to drink, so I said, "Just a little, maybe about a liter." He looked shocked and asked, "A liter of what?" I replied, "Just water." When everyone burst into laughter, I realized he'd been asking about alcohol.

Just before they took me outside, the living room clock struck six o'clock. I didn't notice it myself, through the pain, but everyone else paused to look at it in surprise. Granted, it's an attention-getter when the clock face opens up to reveal the decorative clockworks, which move in time to a piece of classical music at the top of every hour (unless the room is dark). Aaron asked Sarah about it and I do remember hearing her answer that it had been a retirement present.

The living room clock, one of the quirky things that stuck during my crisis.

My family thinks it's hilarious that I kept explaining to everyone throughout the entire experience, multiple times, that I'd been unable to comb my hair after getting out of the shower. "No one cares, Mom," they said. Nonetheless, despite the agonizing pain, I was deeply embarrassed that my wet hair was such a mess, and I didn't want people thinking I always looked like such a slob.

It took three paramedics to walk me out to the gurney, waiting at the bottom of the porch steps. I kept  doubling over and nearly pitching out of their hands. As they were guiding me onto the stretcher, the guy closest to me said, "Your hair may not be combed, but it smells nice." Everyone chuckled, and one of his colleagues joked, "Don't be weird, Danny!" I admit, I wasn't so far gone that I couldn't appreciate how extremely fit and attractive these first responders were!

In the ambulance, they asked a lot more questions. Like, "Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?" At age sixty-four? I laughed. "If I am, shoot me now," I said. Then they put an IV needle in the back of my right hand, where they had trouble finding a good vein, and they administered 15 mcg of fentanyl. I asked, "Isn't that the stuff they're smuggling into the country that's killing people?" They assured me that it was a minimal amount, just enough to take the edge off the pain. Aaron added, "No one is dying here today." We discovered at the hospital that there was a kink in the IV, so I probably got little or no effect from the drug, but knowing I was in capable hands certainly helped me calm down.

All the medical professionals I saw that night, from the paramedics to the emergency room doctor, kept asking if I was having back pain. I knew they were trying to ascertain whether I was having kidney stones, but I really had no pain in my back at all. I don't know why. I've lived with back pain from scoliosis for nearly fifty years, so maybe it felt like business as usual. Or maybe the pain in my abdomen simply overwhelmed every other feeling. Given the lack of back pain, the doctor was leaning toward a diagnosis of bowel blockage or perforation, which would have been far more serious, but thankfully a CT scan showed the true culprit.

I'd always heard that kidney stones are the only way a man can experience pain that approaches the intensity of labor pains leading to childbirth. I used to doubt it, but now I'm a believer! When the paramedics asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10, it was easily a ten. I told them the closest thing to it I'd ever experienced was the brief labor I had with my daughter. All three of my kids were delivered by cesarean-section, but we started out attempting a natural delivery for Sarah, until it became an emergency c-section to save her life. My labor lasted only half an hour before they gave me an epidural, but I still remember the horrific pain.

There are differences, of course. For one, this pain was only on my left side. Nonetheless, the term "excruciating" is not an exaggeration. My entire lower left abdomen was a deep, fiery mass of throbbing, cramping, writhing agony, with a piercing sharp pain in the center that felt like someone was slicing into me with a long, hot knife, over and over again.

The emergency room of our local hospital: walk-ins on the right

and ambulance entrance on the left, beyond the two yellow poles.

I think I zoned out for most of the ambulance ride, but I was aware when we pulled into the driveway of the ER. They quickly transferred me to room 17 (another weird thing to recall), where Sarah joined me within ten minutes of my arrival. It was about 6:30 by this time. A series of nurses came in to hook me up to the usual machines. My blood pressure had returned to acceptable levels by now. They removed the ineffectual IV from my right hand and started a new one in the crook of my right elbow, and they soon administered some oxycodone, but it barely touched the pain.

Sarah had been pretty well freaked out by the whole thing up to this point. She told her brothers later, "I've never seen Mom like that!" You'd never know it from this experience, but I have an unusually high pain tolerance. As long as I know what to expect, I can take it...although long-term pain can certainly make me grumpy. Besides, I'm not one who's given to emotional outbursts. I prefer to remain in control, especially in public. I'm accustomed to handling life's crises on my own, preferring not to "bother" others (I often hear from my friends, "Why didn't you call me?"). So, no, my children had never seen me behave like this.

Once the results of the CT scan came back a couple of hours later, I was totally horrified that I'd actually called 911 over something so simple as a kidney stone! How embarrassing. However, the doctor and nurses assured me that I was far from the first person with kidney stones to arrive at the ER in an ambulance, and that my situation was rather more extreme than usual.

It turns out that the very first kidney stone of my life was stuck in the ureter just below the left kidney, and had probably been there for days, if not weeks. The ureters, narrow tubes that carry urine from the kidneys to the bladder, are only about 3-4 mm wide, whereas my spiky little stone was 6.4 mm across. It wasn't going anywhere. But it kept trying to move, which was the cause of my pain.

Sarah stayed by me the entire night. As the whole episode had unfolded, it hadn't occurred to either of us to contact anyone else. I think a part of my brain figured I'd call other family members once we'd discovered what was wrong. As it turned out, I didn't have to call anyone, and I soon found myself engulfed in the support of my entire loving family.

After I'd left home in the ambulance, Sarah had headed over to meet me at the ER, leaving Mark by himself. So he'd called Dylan to ask him to bring over a pizza for dinner. Jake picked up Dylan's phone and heard, "Mary's in the hospital, so can you..." What??? Once Jake got the gist of what had happened, he told Dylan to get his shoes on because they were heading to the hospital. What???

They'd picked up Mark and a pizza, eaten a few slices in the car on their way to the hospital, and the next thing I knew, Dylan, Jake, and Mark were walking into my room. They spent well over two hours with us. By then, my pain had diminished somewhat, so there was much teasing and hilarity in ER room 17. We had to keep reminding ourselves to keep our voices and laughter in check, but it passed the time and made the overall experience much more pleasant.

We even FaceTimed Jacob in Mesa to let him know what was going on. He was ready to drop everything and head up the mountain, but I assured him that I would be going home soon and was in no real danger.

It was around 10:00 when the pain finally subsided. They'd just added some Toradol to my IV (heavenly), which whisked the pain away like magic. And it stayed gone for the next two and a half days. I was finally released to go home at 11:00, with three prescriptions and firm orders to call the urologist the next morning. Sarah drove me home in her Jeep, with a stop at Walmart to grab a bite to eat, since we'd both missed dinner.

So how did this happen? No one in my immediate family has had kidney stones, at least, not that I'm aware of. I rarely drink soda and I'm not one to use a lot of salt or any sugar. I've actually been eating less protein than usual, since going more keto in my diet. However, I'm not very fond of plain water, so it's a struggle to drink as much water each day as recommended. Believe me, after this experience, I'm working on upping my intake of H2O these days!

The story doesn't end here, of course. The pain is, in fact, ongoing. But more about that later...

A Mother's Day

I got to be with two of the three who call me "Mom" on Mothers Day.

May 12, 2019

Mothers Day is always special, thanks to the attention my children give to making it memorable for me every year. This year was no different. The only thing missing was my middle child, Jacob, who was busy in Mesa dealing with recent illness and injury of one of his dogs, Lucky. We missed having him here, but we did get to talk to him.

The day began early, when Mark woke me at 5:30 to take him to work. When I stumbled into the kitchen to put on slippers and a jacket (it's still in the 30s some mornings), I found he'd left a Mother's Day card and a ceramic angel on the table for me. We're not even married anymore, but he's still thoughtful about remembering these occasions.

An gift and card from Mark. A booklet and chocolate from church.

Then it was time to get ready for church. There are some who think that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a patriarchy in which the men hold all the "power" simply because they're the ones who serve as priesthood leaders, but the reality is quite different. We actually believe that priesthood power is held by both men and women, endowed with the same rights and responsibilities, and this is obvious on Sundays. The bishoprics of our wards are indeed made up of three men, and it's the brethren who serve in the presidencies and as teachers of the Elders Quorum, Sunday School, and Young Men youth program. However, the women helm an equal (and in many ways greater) responsibility in the presidencies and as teachers of the Relief Society, Young Women youth program, and Primary. There are often one or two men who also teach the children in Primary, but the organization is predominantly made up of women, with only women called to serve in its presidency.

Thus, without the combined efforts of both the brethren and sisters, our Sunday meetings would cease to operate as efficiently as they do, and possibly even fail to serve their intended purposes.

Nonetheless, our bishop decided last year that the sisters should be served by the brethren on Mothers Day, and he actually assigned the men of our ward to cover all of the women's duties for the day. Then all the women met with the bishopric in the cultural hall, where they served us cheesecake and gave a presentation expressing appreciation for the many gifts women share with the world. (Note: not all wards do this. These types of activities are selected by each ward's bishop.)

It was an interesting experiment, but it went off pretty well. The teenage girls met with the boys' group and their leaders, while the children met in one large group rather than individual classes. Relief Society wasn't an issue, of course, since all the women were together in the hall, and even the nursery was manned by the men.

It worked so well, in fact, that our bishop decided to do it again this year. This time we were served huge slabs of delicious-looking chocolate cake (which Sarah and I did not eat). Instead of a presentation, the bishop opened the floor to an open discussion regarding the place of women in the Church. It was quite thought-provoking, with comments from ladies in all walks of life, from grandmothers, to mothers of young children, to single moms, to women who never married or had children. All expressed differing levels of struggles in their lives, and all expressed their faith in the power of Christ and His Atonement to help us endure in spite of our varied issues. It was very uplifting.

To prevent falling to temptation, I'd baked a sugar-free cheesecake the previous night and brought two slices to church in a small container so Sarah and I could indulge in something sweet while everyone else was enjoying cake. Our Relief Society president had mentioned to the bishop that there are people in the ward watching their sugar intake, so there was a bowl filled with delicious sugar-free chocolates, too!

Sarah made Mexican Chicken for my Mothers Day dinner!

While we were still in the hall at church, visiting and enjoying our sweet treats, Jacob called to wish me a happy Mothers Day, so I got to chat with him for a few minutes. He was at the veterinarian's office, waiting for the vet to come in and take out Lucky's stitches.

When church was over, I picked Mark up from work on the way home. Then I went into my office to work on a computer project I'd started the day before. There were some dishes stacked on the sink from the previous night's dinner, as well as some baking dishes from the cheesecake, but I planned to get those washed up when I finished the project.

When I finally went out to get started, I found the dishes all washed up and the kitchen all tidied up! I told Mark it was one of the best Mothers Day presents I'd ever received, and I meant it!

On top of that, Sarah announced she was bringing dinner so I wouldn't have to cook, and she asked what I'd like. I chose her Mexican chicken casserole. It's an old family recipe, which I'd tweaked to make low-carb, and then Sarah tweaked it again to suit her tastes. We all agree that her version is by far the best one!

Mary with her Mothers Day cards and gifts at the end of the evening.

Sarah and Chris came over a little before 5:00 so we could watch the next-to-last episode of American Idol together. We knew dinner was going to be late because Dylan didn't get off work until 7:30. Jake came over a little after 6:30, Sarah put the casserole in the oven just before 7:00, and Dylan arrived five minutes after leaving work. It all worked out perfectly!

After dinner, I opened my card and gift from Sarah and Chris. I keep telling my kids that I'd be totally happy with a simple card, expressing how wonderful and amazing they think I am (ahem), but Sarah always insists on getting me something. This year she got me three little glass planters with little succulents inside. So sweet!

Later, we called Jacob and enjoyed talking with him some more, together this time. The kids decided to rank themselves according to whom they felt were my "favorites." They all agreed that Sarah is my first favorite, Dylan comes in second, and Jacob takes last place. There was a lot of joking and laughter, and I teased them about how they could each rise in the rankings, but I hope they know I truly don't have a favorite.

As I explained to them, it's probably not accurate when a parent claims, "I love you all the same," because they are not the same. Each of my kids is an individual with differing strengths and weaknesses, which means the things I love and appreciate about them are different, but in no way any less powerful. We may relate to each other in varying ways, but each one touches my heart in a deeply personal way. Put simply, they are mine, each one, and to lose any one of them would be to break my heart. That's how a mother's love works.

I'm so blessed that each of you is mine, the three most beautiful gems in my jewel-box of motherhood!

The cheesecake that got us through the cake-temptation at church

was also our family dessert at the end of the night.

Jake Has a Birthday

April 28, 2019: Celebrating Jake's 28th birthday two days early.

(Dylan thinks it's funnier to reverse the order of the candles.)

For our weekly Sunday family dinner this past weekend, we celebrated another birthday, this time Jake's 28th birthday. His birthday is actually today, April 30th, but we partied two days early since we would all be together and Dylan was scheduled to get off work about three hours earlier than usual on that date.

Sarah helped me prepare the Caprese Chicken Jake requested.

(The large pan is waiting for Parmesan, but it shows the layers better.)

I always like to have the celebrity of honor choose the dinner menu as well as their ice cream and cake (or other dessert, if they prefer) for their party. Like me, Jake hates to be the one who makes the final decision, so he hemmed and hawed for a couple of weeks before he thought of a dish he liked that we hadn't had for a while. He requested the "chicken cutlets with whole basil leaves and mozzarella slices stuffed inside covered in heavy cream sauce."

Jake's birthday dinner: Caprese Chicken, with green beans and bacon.

I immediately knew the dish he was referring to. I don't remember what the name of the recipe was when I found it somewhere about a year ago (online, maybe), so I just call it Caprese Chicken since caprese recipes usually involve mozzarella, tomato, and basil. It is delicious and low-carb friendly. Then I narrowed down the side dish choices to salad or green beans, and Jake chose green beans.

Jake and Dylan start on dinner while American Idol plays in the background.

Sarah came over a little early to help me prepare the chicken, which is not so much difficult as time-consuming, stuffing all the little slices of Roma tomato and fresh mozzarella and basil leaves into slots cut into the chicken breasts. She also, admittedly, came early so she wouldn't miss any of this week's episode of American Idol. Both she and her brother Jacob are very invested in this year's competition. In fact, the two of them compared notes by phone about three times during the two-hour program.

How Dylan reacts when I say, "Just act like you're enjoying your meal..."

After the show ended, Jacob FaceTimed us from Mesa (on Sarah's phone) and we all got to enjoy a lengthy visit with him. Of particular interest was the state of Jacob's dog, Lucky, who'd had two visits to the vet over the weekend. When Jacob came home from work on Friday, he'd found Lucky limping around on a badly swollen foreleg. It worsened noticeably over a short period of time, so he called me and I recommended he find an emergency vet open on a Friday night, although I cringed to imagine the cost.

Four hours of waiting-room time and $680 later, the vet still didn't know what was wrong with Lucky's leg. He was drugged, shaved, examined, x-rayed, and tested for Valley Fever, but all the vet could do was prescribe antibiotics and a painkiller, and tell Jacob to bring him back if it didn't get better.

The leg did seem to improve quickly but, sadly, poor Lucky faced another unexpected crisis the very next day. Lucky was doing well enough that Jacob had let him out in the backyard to get some fresh air and have a stretch. Jacob warned everyone to keep Porsche, a dog belonging to a roommate, inside the house. Porsche is very sweet with people, but she can become aggressive with other animals. Unfortunately, the visiting friend of a roommate forgot the warning, opening the back door and allowing Porsche to get out.

She immediately went after Lucky, perhaps sensing he was vulnerable, and tore him up pretty badly. Jacob said blood was just pouring out of one of the wounds. So they rushed Lucky back to the vet again, where he had several wounds stitched up and a tube placed in one to allow drainage. He was badly injured enough that they kept him overnight for observation before allowing Jacob to take him home on Sunday morning. When Jacob showed Lucky to us on FaceTime, we were heartbroken. He looked so sad, with his cone-of-shame and his many injuries. Poor little guy.

As for Porsche, the attack has been reported to the authorities. Being her first reported offense, there are now three options: a) she may be spayed in an effort to curb her aggression naturally; b) she may be enrolled in an approved aggression-training course; or c) she will be taken and put to sleep if one of the first two options aren't carried out (or if there's ever a second reported attack). As for the new vet bill, this one ran to $1,100, which will be paid off by Porsche's owner over the next few months. Dang. We'd just finished paying off all of Jacob's debts, and now he's back to almost $2,000 on one credit card for vet bills!

We all wish Lucky a quick healing and no more trauma. Now, back to more pleasant events!

Jake's pile of gifts (Dylan hadn't added his yet when I took the picture).

After dinner and our long phone call with Jacob (by the time it ended, Sarah's phone battery was down to 1%), it was time for Jake to open his presents. Always the best part of the celebration!

Time to open cards and presents!

Dylan helps Jake display all his gifts after opening them.

He got some great presents this year. Dylan gave him a "Star Wars Stormtrooper" license plate holder for his car. When you look at Jake's white Kia Soul from the back, with its dark windows, it looks very much like a stormtrooper helmet! He already has an Imperial sigil on the back window and Han Solo's Sabacc dice hanging from the rear-view mirror, so he's well on his way to the Star Wars universe.

Sarah and Chris gave him a gift card in a large box filled with toilet paper rolls to disguise its size. Mark gave him a puzzle featuring a scene from the Avengers: Infinity War film, with a really cool 3-D picture of the Infinity Stones glove on the puzzle box. And I gave him an official prop replica from the movie Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald. It's Gellert Grindelwald's pendant, which held the sealed blood from a pact between Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore, in which they swore never to fight each other.

Closeup of Gellert Grindelwald's pendant from the film Fantastic Beasts:

The Crimes of Grindelwald.

The former picture is a better shot of the pendant, but this one

captured the color of the stone better

We had such a great time on this particular evening that the kids stayed more than an hour longer than they usually do, even though they all had to be at work Monday morning. We shared so much laughter and so many funny stories, the time flew by. As the evening drew to a close, we finished up with cake and ice cream. 

After much prodding, Jake had finally admitted he really likes carrot cake, although he was afraid no one else would care for it. (I love carrot cake but, sadly, it's not allowed on my diet.) So I bought a small carrot cake and a chocolate cake. Funny thing is, Jake, Mark, and Chris ate the carrot cake while Dylan--the only one who actually doesn't like carrot cake--decided he wasn't in a "cake mood" and ate only ice cream. Thus, the chocolate cake remained whole and untouched! But I'm sure Mark will take care of that over the coming week.

For ice cream, Jake requested Rocky Road, so I bought Rocky Road and Cookies & Cream, both of which were heavily enjoyed by all the guys. As for Sarah and me, we had a chocolate paleo cake (sweetened by banana).

Finally, dessert! Jake requested carrot cake, and I bought a chocolate cake 

for those who don't care for carrot cake. I made the Double-Chocolate Paleo

Banana Bread (on the left) for Sarah and me, so we wouldn't cheat on our diet!

When we all walked out together to say goodbye at the end of the night, I told the kids how much I appreciate that they love each other so much that our family get-togethers are always fun and mostly drama-free (not to forget poor Lucky). Not every family is so blessed in that way, so I'm very grateful.

Happy birthday, Jake!

Jake makes a wish and blows out the candles, despite interference from Dylan.

Seasons

April 14, 2019: Mist rises off our neighborhood pond at 5:45 a.m.

This occurs when daytime temps are warm & the pond retains the heat 

even when temperatures still drop below freezing overnight.

It is definitely spring in the White Mountains. Not that there's no chance of further snow. We all remember when we got hit with a crazy snowstorm on the day of Sarah's high school graduation at the end of May 2008, when the ceremony unexpectedly had to be moved from the football field to the gym (the only time that happened in the 29 years since I moved here). But those chilly kinds of events so late in May are extremely rare.

April 13, 2019: Two paired geese inhabit our pond. Every morning at dawn,

they take flight over our neighborhood, honking loudly overhead.

The weather forecast for today says there's a 70% chance of rain, and there is definitely a bank of low, fat clouds rolling in.  However, for the rest of April it calls for daily highs between 67 and 77 degrees, with lows in the 40s. To me, that's pretty close to perfect! It's been awfully breezy, with a windchill factor that sometimes makes you grit your teeth and hurry indoors, but I really like this time of year. After the inconvenient but beautiful months of magical snowfalls, spring is always welcome. It's the time of budding greenery and colorful blossoms to be enjoyed before fire season begins in earnest.

You know winter is over when the kitchen chairs take off their jackets!

Still, there will be things I miss about winter. So here are a few of my fun memories from our winter of 2018-19. 

January 15, 2019: I love when the neighborhood pond freezes over.

December 22, 2018: I love the Christmas lights and decorations.

Our house with lights & wreath is on the right, and our neighbor's on the left.

(In fact, I actually use our Christmas lights all year instead of the porch light.)

A house around the corner, owned by a fellow teacher at the high school.

This house is right on the corner, two doors down from us.

I love the holiday fun of friends dropping by with thoughtful gifts,

like this delicious homemade bread from Jacque and Kendall Johnson.

December 26, 2018: I love running into my kids at Walmart the day

after I gave them matching Star Wars shirts for Christmas!

January 1, 2019: And I love sights like this after a big storm!

And the Winner Is...

Mark shows off his winnings: a fifty-dollar bill!

(And the cookies he bought at the bake sale.)

April 13, 2019

I can't believe he actually won! Today we attended the annual spring concert of the White Mountain Symphony Orchestra, with whom our daughter Sarah performs on violin. The symphony orchestra puts on five or six concerts each year, usually accompanied by a bake sale and a raffle in the lobby, to raise funds for their all-volunteer organization. And, at every concert, Mark buys two tickets for $1 apiece to enter the raffle for the most coveted prize: fifty dollars in cash!

I always teased Mark that he'd end up paying more than the fifty dollar prize into the raffle before he'd ever actually win it, if he ever did. But he persisted. 

During intermission tonight, as always, the emcee and his young assistants drew the tickets for each raffled item, saving the fifty-dollar prize for last. Then the emcee teased, "The last three numbers on the winning ticket are...4...does anybody have the four?" Hands went up all over the auditorium, including Mark's. I glanced at the tickets in his hand. His last three numbers read "426" and "427." The emcee went on: "The next number is 2...does anyone have 4-2?" Fewer hands popped up. I still didn't get too excited. Mark's final "6" and "7" were still up against eight other people with final 0, 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5 and final 8 or 9, after all. But then, at last, "The final three numbers are 4...2...6!"

Both of Mark's arms flew up in the air as he let out a whoop. People all around us applauded. I guess that, sometimes, the cockeyed optimists really do win! Oh, yes...I was wrong. His total investment before winning was only about ten or twelve dollars.

The concert program and my ticket.

After the concert, Mark used his newfound wealth to treat Sarah, Chris, and me to dinner at Show Low Cafe. We enjoyed their generous salad bar (Sarah had a bun-less cheeseburger) and a nice hour of visiting before heading home for the evening. Sarah and Chris covered the tip for our friendly, helpful waitress, while Mark surrendered his fifty-dollar bill to pay for dinner. He got a big kick out of it when the waitress handed him his change: $2.45. 

"Look," he said, holding the two greenbacks high. "I got my two dollars back!"

Sarah preps for the first number while waiting for the concertmaster.

This was a fun concert, even aside from Mark's big win. The theme was "Music Is in Our Nature" and featured musical numbers inspired by flora, fauna, and even the weather. Two soloists were featured. The first was a high school flutist who'd won an audition contest. The second was a college student who was an absolute virtuoso on the harp, who is also scheduled to perform at Carnegie Hall soon. You can see a clip of her remarkable performance on my Facebook page.

Sarah chats with another violinist while still waiting for the concert to begin.

For us, of course, the highlight of the concerts is watching our Sarah perform. Although she has no interest in being the "star of the show," she is nonetheless completely dedicated to her music and loves being a part of the orchestra. I love that it's important to her to share her gifts with the community.

The concert begins, with Maestro Ted Vives on the stand.

Many orchestra members are people we've known throughout our 29 years here.

We're so proud of our sweet, talented, musical Sarah!

Orchestra members stand to be recognized with a standing ovation

after performing the final number of the evening.

Chris Has a Birthday

March 31, 2019: Chris celebrates with his chocolate birthday cake.

Chris is not really 52 (he's 41). Those were the only candles Dylan could find,

so he put them on the cake as a joke. Chris wanted to reverse them to read "25"!

My son-in-law Chris turned 41 on March 28th. That same evening, he celebrated his birthday with his mom, Brenda, and his sister Lori and her family. Our family's celebration for Chris had to wait a few days, until our weekly Sunday family dinner last night. Better late than never! 

Since Dylan transferred to another department in Walmart a while back, he usually works until 7:00 or even 8:00 on Sundays, so our family dinners often get a late start. Yesterday, though, he had the day off, so we were able to get the party started at 5:00. That made it nice, giving me extra help for all the slicing, chopping, and shredding involved in preparing dinner. Besides, eating dinner earlier is important when you know there will be cake and ice cream later!

The taco meat and tortillas are ready for soft tacos!

Whenever possible, I like to have the birthday honoree choose the dinner menu, as well as the cake and ice cream they'd like. Chris requested One-Pan Tacos (except he specified that we use tortillas instead of tortilla chips this time). For dessert he wanted a chocolate cake with root beer floats.

Technically, we didn't really have One-Pan Tacos last night. That meal entails cooking up the ground beef, onions, chilies, and spices, and then smothering it with the cheese and other toppings right there in the pan. You just scoop it onto your plate, all hot and melty, so you can then scoop it into your mouth with tortilla chips. Since we were using tortillas, though, it made more sense to just cook up the meat and then let everyone add their own toppings on their soft tacos.

Taco toppings on the sideboard.

After dinner, I told the kids that it's time for us to have "The Talk." They all burst out laughing and said, "I think it's a little too late for that, Mom!" No, silly children. I mean "The Disneyland Talk." Last week I caught the Disneyland bug and spent two full days planning as many details of our November vacation as I could, given that the trip is still seven months away and the new Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge land won't even open for two more months. I was so focused on my itinerary-building task that I accomplished nothing else at all for those two days, including forgetting to stop and eat. The only reason we had evening meals was because Mark would eventually wander into my office to ask, "Are we having dinner?"

Thus, we all adjourned to the living room for a Disneyland meeting, where we discussed important issues like who's going to drive (probably Jacob and me, with others contributing for gas); how much money everyone needs to put away in the next seven months for not only tickets and gas, but also for four days of eating out at Disneyland, plus lunch at Ruby's Surf City Cafe on Huntington Beach Pier; and whether it's worth an extra $15 per day for MaxPass tickets (the general consensus was: Absolutely!).

Chris with his birthday presents.

Once that was all hashed out, it was finally time for Chris to open his gifts. Sarah had already given him a shirt and slacks (he's wearing the new shirt in the photo above) at the party with his mom and sister, but last night she also surprised him with an Xbox card. Dylan and Jake gave him a Star Wars Lego set featuring a dramatic scene from the end of the film Revenge of the Sith. From Mark he received a pocket watch in the shape of Han Solo's ship, the Millennium Falcon (which Jake and I both covet). And I gave him a Bluetooth speaker that looks like Darth Vader. As you can see, Chris has gotten into Star Wars more than ever. He's even working on decorating his home office with Star Wars memorabilia.

Chris's birthday cake alongside a paleo chocolate-banana bread for Sarah and me.

Finally, it was time for ice cream and cake. We all sang our usual splendid version of "Happy Birthday to You" before Chris blew out his candles, which incorrectly identified him as now being 52. I told Dylan I didn't think I had any candles, but he rifled through the container where I usually keep them anyway. All he could come up with was an old "5" and an old "2" candle, so he thought it would be funny to make it look like Chris had turned 52. There was a brief tussle when Chris tried to switch the candles to "25," but you can see who prevailed.

Sarah and I resisted the temptation to sample the yummy-looking birthday cake, but we were more than satisfied with the Double-Chocolate Paleo Banana Bread I'd baked that afternoon. It's one of our favorite treats. I don't bake it very often, because it's not really low-carb since it uses mashed bananas as the sweetener, but it's definitely delicious enough to stand in for wedding cakes and other celebratory cakes at events where Sarah and I are trying to avoid the higher-carb fare.

As for the root beer floats, Sarah and Chris had brought both regular and diet root beer with them, while I had purchased both regular and no-added-sugar vanilla ice cream. I rarely drink soda, and I drink even less now that I've gone seriously low-carb, but Sarah and I did enjoy a cup of the low-carb version last night. It hit the spot.

Happy 41st birthday, Chris!

As the frivolity slowed and the guys got ready to leave, I pushed as much of the sugary leftovers on them as possible (I did let Mark keep two slices of leftover cake). Then they were on their way by 9:00, and Sarah and I settled in to watch the season nine finale of The Walking Dead. It was a wonderful evening, celebrating a great guy. Happy birthday, Chris!