Survival of the, well, survivors

Hellooooo, everyone back on the various home fronts!

I write with qualified joy from MA as I have just finished my boards. Well, round one at least.

The trip was comprised of an uneventful flight to O'Hare, a frenzied rush to our connection that left me wondering whether we should use Grandma's inhaler on the wheelchair lady, and another calm flight to Baltimore. After claiming our luggage which appeared almost immediately, we walked from baggage claim to the ground transportation area where we boarded the light rail. The train was clean, the ticket collector polite, and the trip fast, but I do take exception to the price gouging. One way fares were $1.60 for me and $0.55 for Grandma. (Can't beat that with a stick!)

Trepidation over successfully disembarking with luggage intact was alleviated as an incredibly strong man picked up both suitcases without fanfare or comment and placed them on the sidewalk before I made it to the steps. The rail dropped us directly at the convention center but I had not realized the hotel was located on exactly the opposite side. It was quite a humorous walk as we made our way through Orioles fans exiting Camden Yard, around panhandlers and across busy intersections-Grandma towing her quite heavy backpack and me trailing matching large rolling suitcases behind with my computer bag across my back. Several times I offered to collect a cab but Grandma was insistent that she could go the distance.

And that she did!

Still, it was a great relief to us both when we trundled into the back of the Hyatt and a charming concierge removed my bags and led us to check-in. Which brings up one of the better reasons for staying at an upper-scale hotel like the Hyatt or like the Hilton in LA. Without exception, the people working in such hotels are kind, patient, thoughtful and truly devoted to providing a wonderful experience. When the bags appeared in the room without fanfare, the bellman Luciano provided a detailed 'walking tour' narrative of the amenities, their locations and hours. Random personnel in the halls stopped to confirm that we were having an excellent stay and immediately provided solutions to little quibbly nuisances. Connie, who works the coffee stand on the atrium floor, found some spectacular strawberries that she made available gratis for customers' enjoyment. And Jeremy, the concierge, has so far guided us to exceedingly extraordinary eats, arranged scheduling of our housekeeping for Grandma's convenience and flagged our room for early paper delivery.

Friday night we caught a quick drink and late bite to eat at Pisces, the restaurant on the top floor with an unbelievable view of the harbor, Crab cake sandwiches, fries, Manhattans and conversation with strangers welcomed us to our adventure. Saturday we did as little as possible and I pushed through some last minute studying. We did take a break to go to the gym for some much needed exercise. On Jeremy's recommendations, we went for an early dinner at the Blue Agave where we feasted on Mexican food and award-winning margaritas. Then, after difficulty hailing a cab, we walked back to the hotel for more studying and an early night. Go Grandma go!

Sunday started early with the essay part of my boards from 8am to noon. This was undoubtedly the worse part of the test and one of the worst intellectual exercises in my life. It was excruciately difficult and discouraging. Shaken I returned to the room to grab my notes and Grandma. I studied over my lunch, trying not to dissolve in tears, trying to regain my sense of humor and perspective.

The afternoon portion of the test, a practical section with lots of images and interpretation, began at 1:30 and was much less unpleasant. Or, as Prince Wesley would say, 'I'm not saying I would build a summerhome here but it really is quite beautiful.' Met back up with Grandma and we detoured to the gym to work off some nervous energy. After cleaning up, we caught a taxi to The Helmand Restaurant. The lamb was so succulent and tender, it could have been cut with a dull spoon, light and fluffy challow (rice seasoned with cardamon), delicate lemon flavored spinach and Turkish coffee to bring a girl to her knees in tears of ecstasy.

Back to the hotel, more last minute studying then bed. Today was an extravaganza of multiple choice delights with the morning's emphasis on 'book larnin' and the afternoon's emphasis on 'practical management'. Both sessions were less hateful than the essays but more unpleasant than, say, an ob-gyn visit. Probably hovering around the level of anxiety associated with an antagonistic tax audit.

Now I sit outside a three mast ship (schooner perhaps?), taking advantage of local free wireless service and watching rain drizzle indifferently on passers-by. The smells of calm chowder, charred beef and crisp sea air mix as ducks waddle down the sidewalk and street performers hurriedly gather their instruments and dart under nearby overhangs. Tonight we dine on crabs at an old school Mom and Pop joint to celebrate completion of the work and the beginning of the fun!

Hoping you all are well and enjoying this day while holding honor in your hearts for fallen heroes-

jacqui

Yes, I really am a techno babe...

Well kids,

Mom is doing great! We had our visit with Dr. Kregor Monday; he was very pleased with Mom's progress and has authorized her to proceed to graduated weightbearing over the next 4-6 weeks. She is anticipated to transition to a cane in about 4 weeks as well. This week Mom has started reviewing music for next year's programs and has begun the process of return to work in earnest.

As for me, the time has come to head north. The boards are all day Sunday and Monday so I fly out today to Baltimore. That will leave Saturday to settle in and fit in some last minute studying. Grandma has graciously agreed to accompany me on this journey as she did last year. Her contributions as mobile peanut gallery and traveling companion will be invaluable as ever. Once the work is over, we look forward to enjoying the adventure- I will attend convention talks throughout the day and Grandma will join me in the evening for food and festivities. Last year was a hoot as Grandma charmed colleagues and strangers without exception. In fact, when word leaked out in the fall that Grandma was battling emphysema, the first thing out of everyone's mouths was 'But she'll be well in time for ACVIM, won't she?' As this year we will be in Baltimore, home to the best crab cakes EVER, we anticipate the gaiety will be unriveled.

As postings have become necessarily less frequent while studying, I took the opportunity during a study break to provide you all a petite soupçon. The blog is now RSS enabled. For those less tech-savvy, what this means is that, depending on your internet browser, the site can now self-monitor to alert you to new postings. I find this works best when the site is in the 'favorites' bar at the top of the browser. For advanced details on taking advantage of RSS technology, please direct your questions to the nearest five-year-old. After (s)he is finished fixing the browser, perhaps (s)he will set the clock on your VCR for once and for all...

From your pal, stressed but reassured because I know you will all keep an eye on Rol and Mom while I'm gone-

jacqui

Everyone needs a study buddy

Study Buddy
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

With the improvement in weather since my last posting, I have been able to do more reading outside. This has a number of benefits as it decreases the amount of ambient noise exposure, improves vitamin D activation and encourages friendships with local study buddies.

This little panhandler was quite fearless- joining me at my small table to (try to) finish my lunch yesterday. Today he was back for breakfast- going after my hashbrowns before I had the chance to try them myself! Unlike many panhandlers, he took my subtle hint and left me to eat my breakfast myself.

From my current position trapped between Bernoulli and Laplace, I remain ever yours-

jax

Flipping the fork

I sit on sanity break from the reading and watch the rain pour from the sky. It is thick with fat drops that splat inelegantly on the sidewalk. Thunder grumbles misgivings and the occasional laser spark of lightning adds a touch of brilliance to the dull, unpolished gray of the skies. It is the sort of rain that lends itself well to contemplation, conversations with strangers and folksy sparse guitar music.

As previously stated, I have gone on 'Mom-leave' to read. After so much continuous contact, the solitude is strange and loud. The book continues endlessly, a thousand pages to go. As I have determined my reading speed of such dense material to be in the neighborhood of 10 pages an hour, it is apparent that trouble lies ahead. Or, as many an author has stated before, 'Get used to disappointment.'

Monday offered a little break as Mom and I made our way over for her recheck with Dr. Labadie. Mom has developed a habit the last week of snapping her fingers outside the left ear, wrinkling her forehead, and saying, 'I am sure I am hearing this better than I was before.' Sometimes she plugs her right ear with her other hand and repeats the exercise.

As there remains a large amount of self-dissolving gelatin packing in the ear canal, it is not expected that her hearing will be normal. It will continue to change, to improve, as the packing dissolves. Still, being Mom and being a musician, she worries.

Our visit Monday was a shocking exception to previous experiences at Vandy. We checked in at 8:30 for Mom's appointment and were immediately sent back to Dr. Labadie's waiting area. Before we were able to sit down, we were ushered to an exam room where the nurse updated Mom's medication history in the computer. Jeanene found us here just as the nurse finished up. We had less than a minute to catch up with Jeanene before we were joined by Dr. Labadie. He was very pleased with the resolution in swelling at the surgical site. In exciting news, Mom has already accomplished a shift in hearing acuity known as 'flipping the fork.'

As you may recall, previous diagnostics confirmed that Mom had normal bone conduction with moderate loss of hearing through the ear itself. One manifestation of this is that sound is better heard when conducted through the bone behind the ear. This can be easily demonstrated with a tuning fork.

'Flipping the fork' therefore refers to an increase in hearing conduction through the drum, using the apparatus, that causes the sound of the fork to be better heard when it is held next to the ear than when the base of the fork is placed against the bone behind the ear. This is normally appreciated, when surgery is successful, about 4 weeks afterward, while Mom has 'flipped the fork' two weeks post-operatively.

[At this juncture, the rain has become violent, stripping limbs from trees outside the window and knocking out the power. Happily I had already been served my latte...]

Well, enough play, Ettinger beckons. With love-

j

Recovery continues-what a miracle!

Dearest friends and family,

It is a thrill and joy to write you from the vantage point of one who is improving, getting healthier and stronger each day. As you know, it has been a long, rough ride for everyone! What a blessing to have reached the point where the future includes going back to work and the chance to catch up with so many wonderful people! It will be slow and take time, but I am trying and slowly succeeding at learning to be a bit more patient! Now that the surgeries are OVER, I feel my strength returning more almost every day!

As you know, at the time of the accident, so much happened that I wasn’t able to be aware of things for a good while, and then for a while I enjoyed the cards and flowers and gifts, but much of it slipped easily from memory – as if those days didn’t even exist. The first things I really remember were experiences at Stallworth – and that was not until about March 10 or so! What an encouragement and joy to wake up and see my hospital room decorated from top to bottom in stuffed toys, posters, cards and flowers! It meant so much to all of us to feel your support! Fortunately, I have no memory of the accident, LA, the flight back here, the trauma center at Vanderbilt or the early days at Stallworth. Trips to doctors and procedures used to terrify me unreasonably, but are much better now! I have learned to trust that recovery IS going to happen, and that the terrifying surprises like waking up to find myself all broken and in imminent medical danger are over, hopefully for a long, long time.

Since the accident on February 3, my family, who have been through so much, have saved and treasured all the cards, toys and gifts received, hoping that one day I’d be well enough to really enjoy them. Now I am stronger and have had more and more opportunities to read and treasure all the cards and kindnesses sent. What an outpouring of love and encouragement – your kindnesses continue to bless me every day. They gave such joy when received, but continue to bless us all each and every day. And the contributions to the medical fund have been so kind and so generous and so appreciated! Although the fabulous support of the VU worker's compensation group has covered the [easily greater than $500,000 in] direct medical costs, it is your kindness and generosity that has cushioned the burden of indirect expenses and made it possible for my daughter to stay and nurse me to health. What a miracle you have all been!I wish there was a way to write or call each and every one of you, thank you again and let you know how much life your prayers, thoughts and kindness supported us, encouraged us and really seemed to give life. I'm afraid my efforts, except for this wonderful blog, cannot adequately reach you all, and I would hate to not contact each and every one of you. Please forgive me if my efforts to express my appreciation have come up short. Please know that every card, phone call or gift WAS AND CONTINUES TO BE truly appreciated and helpful! Thanks to all of you, I now treasure every day and every moment. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Continuing on the road back to service, I remain, Pam

Going offline

Hey there boys and girls!

Hope you have been well. Things have continued apace here and I have an update on the docs pending. As those of you counting days may have realized, it is getting dangerously close to boards. I have less than two weeks till the quiz and am now trying to transition to study mode. [The experience reminds me of 'hard' landings in various airport disaster movies.] It is no longer physically possible to read everything I had wanted, but that is the way of life.

There is never enough time for all the [insert noun] one would like.

Although I will complete doc updates during breaks from the reading, you can expect there will be a certain degree of brevity to these posts. Once I have survived the certifiers, I will curve back to flesh things out. Do not think this means any of us have forgotten any of you for even a second. It is just crunch time for your friendly travel guide in the land of Schnell!

With love-

jackie chris

She's got the stick!

She's got the stick!
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

As is readily apparent from this photo, Mom has undergone a transformation in the last few days.

Perhaps it is partially a result of knowing the worst is truly behind her, perhaps it relates to a powerful discovery in therapy on Monday, perhaps not.

Whatever the cause, the effect has been an unleashing of the candid and playful spirit we all know as Pam.

This photo was taken in the doctor's office. Actually during Mom's visit with the medical neurologist Dr. Duncan. For the first time since this saga began, Mom truly joined Jeanene and me for an appointment. She visited and laughed and waited without anxiety or tears. When the doctor joined us, Mom remained engaged, leaning forward on the walker to share her challenges and successes.

I cannot, repeat cannot, share how amazing it was to see my Mom large and in charge.

As anticipated, Dr. Duncan didn't have much to offer us. He said he found himself forced to j'oin the crowd' of people saying Mom is a miracle of prayer and modern science. He saw nothing to change, add or subtract and looks forward to clearing her for a driving evaluation in 6 weeks, sooner if Mom feels her eyes and ankle are up to it!

We decided this called for a celebration...

Happy bubbly

Happy bubbly
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

Mom raises her glass, and Glenn his bowl, to toast her brilliant success today and continuing progress. You know, Martinelli sparkling cider is actually quite tasty!

Sweet success

Sweet cider
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

Roland joined us in the toast to Mom's liberation and to her brave new world!

Rough edges

Man, have I been sick!

Sure, the first seven days weren't bad. Burning eyes and post-nasal drip. Barely worse than the standard bad allergy day since I moved back. Hid that from most everyone.

The stress and sleep deprivation of the last two procedures and recoveries was apparently more than my immune system could handle. Thursday morning I was pretty tired. But that was natural given the previous day's trauma. That night I started feeling rough. Friday continued the downhill slide of [obviously bacterial] congestion and ennui. That night the coughing emerged as a full force wracking symptom. Saturday was more of the same though I foolishly kept dinner plans with dear friends anyway. It was a delightful time in spite of my misery. A word to the wise- the cake with 'tres leches' at Rumba is truly exquisite.

Now, I firmly believe the idiom, 'You know what they call a doctor who treats herself? Stupid.' Of course, as anyone who has seen me ill knows, I also lean toward the philosophy, 'See no evil, hear no evil.'

Mother's Day was more of the same but worse as I found myself degenerating into tears of exhaustion and losing what little remained of my voice. By Monday, my throat felt like road rash from all the coughing. After giving Mom her morning shot, I took a bath to break up the tenacious slime in my sinuses and fell into bed for another two hours of coughing interrupted by sleep. My goal was to make it through the day of doctor appointments before checking in to my 'early grave.'

By Friday night, my being sick was no longer on the 'down low' and by Monday, Mom and Rol were pretty darn pushy. So Monday, while Mom waited to see Dr. Lavin, she sent me down to see if Dr. Dendy might be able to fit me.

The first receptionist looked nonplused and said that Dr. Dendy wasn't seeing new patients. But Rita stopped her and said, 'No wait, that's Pam's daughter. Pam needs her. You better have her fill out the intake form and check with Mary. I bet Dr. Dendy will want to see her.'

One minute later, I kid you not, she was back with news that Nanette would indeed see me and would fit me in as soon as she could. So, while Mom met with Dr. Lavin, I waited two floors below and met with Dr. Dendy. Mary, Dr. Dendy's nurse, took my blood pressure and asked if I had been febrile. I said I didn't know which kind of surprised her.

'What do you mean you don't know?'

'Well, I have kind of defaulted to ignoring my body. Its a kind of Wily Coyote thing. If I don't know I'm off the cliff, I can keep running.' About this time the thermometer chimed- 99.2F. 'Yeah, I guess I've had a fever.' It was only later that day that I remembered I'd taken aspirin twice that morning for the headache! [Later, Mom stated I had been feverish all weekend.]

Shockingly, Dr. Dendy concurred.

I was sick. Plenty sick.

So she wrote me a script for antibiotics.

Monday night was better. Mom made me noodle soup. I slept a lot (and hurt a lot).

Tuesday morning I went back to bed after Mom's shot. Rested most of the day then took Mom in for Roland's students' concert. My throat still hurt, my head still hurt but at least the fever had broken. I really started fading once we got to Blair- the drive had left me bushed and I started getting dizzy dizzy dizzy! I was supposed to go pick up food for us but that was clearly a bad idea.

Luckily, we ran into Lee Levine who immediately volunteered to save the day. The Chinese food she brought in was a life-saver! It made the room stop spinning and my stomach stop turning.

Today my throat is almost recovered though my eyes still threatened to pop with each cough. My pep is still a little pooped but I'm getting there. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be back in fighting trim. We are, after all, transitioning into 'coast' mode and I'll get to catch up on sleep! Okay, perhaps fighting trim is a little over-optimistic...

If nothing else, this bug has given Mom a chance to do something she enjoys- mother me. Something I hadn't been so sure I would get to experience again when this all started back in February. Each day brings its own blessings, some more subtle than others!

Catch up

After the filter removal Monday, Mom was exhausted and I had picked up a cold. Mom did go to Stallworth the next day and started her rehab on her ankle. Afterwards I picked her up and we made our way quickly home to collapse on the couch. Later in the day Mickey came over to play Yatzee and help pass the time. We made an early evening of it in prepration for our early morning.

Wednesday we were up and dressed by about 5am as Mom was due at check-in at 6. We packed up everything into the cars and trundled over to campus, arriving at the check-in desk at 6 on the dot. There was very little waiting before we were taken back to Mom's room where she changed and we met with about 15 medical personnel. I lost track after the third anesthesiologist, four nurse and second ENT doctor. Dr. Labadie popped in and chatted with us last before heading off to prep for surgery. Our primary nurse, Mary, was wonderful and elected to call in her charge nurse Eileen to place Mom's catheter as her veins are pretty trashed. Eileen took her time, unlike Mom's nurse from Monday, and dropped the catheter in without incident on the first try, also unlike Monday.

At 7:25 one of the anesthesiologists gave Mom a premed and at 7:30 on the dot she was rolled out. Roland and I went out for a coffee and some food before returning to wait. Dr. Labadie came in at 11:45 to let us know Mom was out of surgery and recovering.

Mom's new ear

Ear anatomy
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

The surgery was uncomplicated and quick. Upon exploration of the middle ear, Dr. Labadie determined the incus was too trashed to salvage and so did not spend a lot of time reuniting it with the malleus. Instead, both bones were removed and a prosthesis was introduced to help convey sound vibrations from the tympanum to the stapes. The external canal was packed with biodegradable material and then a cotton ball placced on top.

Bar fight

Anesthesia
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

Here Mom is recovering from the ear surgery. As this procedure was considered 'outpatient', we were lucky enough to get to take Mom home to sleep off the worst of the effects of anesthesia once she had her sea legs.

The large cup over Mom's left ear was there to keep her from rolling onto it in her sleep or thwacking it on things the first 24 hours post-op. As you can see, it does lend an air of Roller Derby Queen to Mom's otherwise elegant face. Jim Croce would be proud.

Wednesday afternoon was a nightmare as Mom remained quite sick from the anesthesia and surgery for many hours. Finally I got a prescription called in to stop the vomiting. After that Mom was able to sleep and kept down a little jello.

Recovery continues

Recovery
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

Thursday and Friday we did very very little as Mom continued to sleep off the anesthesia and I continued to ignore my cold. Basically we just kept reminding ourselves that we have now made it through the last surgery. From here on in, it is just a matter of 'finishing up'- getting better and eliminating doctors from the list.

Today Mom is much much better though I remain a little sniffly. We are looking forward to celebrating Mother's Day tomorrow and maybe planting some flowers for Mickey. Hope you take the opportunity to enjoy your mothers and daughters and so on tomorrow as well!

With love-

jacqui

How we lost Mary's thumb

Ulrich creche
Originally uploaded by jacquichris.

As Mom has survived her last surgery, it feels like a celebration is in order. There will be time later to fill in the details of the last few days. So, instead, I have decided to tell you the story of Mary's thumb.

In our house, in the dining room, there is an alcove. It is a recessed area with glass shelves thick like cuts of bacon. There is a light at the top that shines down to illuminate the top shelf and filter through to the lower shelves. On the shelves, a variety of special memorabilia is displayed throughout the year. At Christmas time, all is swept away to make room for creches. All, that is, except for the very special Bernardi Ulrich creche that is kept front and center year round.

This past year, Mom hadn't had time to decorate before I arrived. We decorated together in a flurry for a small Christmas soiree. The house was so very lovely that we decided to start the evening by candlelight. Unfortunately, the candles did not cast as strong a glow in the alcove and most of the creches were bathed in shadow. Especially unacceptable for the Ulrich creche.

The candles were my idea. Just so blame is established upfront.

The first pair of candlesticks were placed on the topmost shelf. But there was still not enough light.

A third candle was placed on the lowest shelf so that light would filter up from below onto the Ulrich set. The wick was trimmed and the shelf above was checked for heat. Everything was fine.

With decorating completed, Mom and I set down to enjoy a quiet moment of gloating. The house was stunning. Just stunning. Then, ten minutes before the first guests were expected, there was a deafening explosion. A sound not dissimilar to a car bomb.

A moment of absolute stillness. Then we turned to stare dumbfounded at the remarkable dishevelment.

A shelf had indeed exploded but it was the one on which the candle had been resting. The other shelves all fell secondary to the force of the initial blast. Everywhere the eye turned there were shattered remains of wise men and angels.

As we collected the remains of the creches and swept up the glass shards, we could not stop laughing. Guests were expected any moment and the integrity of the Ulrich creche remained to be determined but there was something terribly humorous about the detritus.

Amusement was particularly derived from one cheap Mexican creche. The blast decapitated all of the wise men: 'Heads indeed will roll.' The angels all lost their wings, poor Clarence would have been devastated. But Mary, Joseph and the little baby Jesus emerged unscathed.

There was apparently something aerodynamically special about the baby Jesi, something that provided them an unfair advantage with regard to loft. The baby from the above described set was found just outside the bathroom, in the hall around a corner.

Our fears lessened as the Ulrich stable was separated from the flotsom. The little lamb, respective wise man, Joseph and Mary all appeared intact. The creche itself lost a leg but no compromise could be detected when the pieces were realigned. It was only after we finished sifting the swept debris, rearranged the shelves and began replacing the surviving pieces that we discovered the baby Jesus, I mean the baby Jesus was missing. We crawled throughout the house, combed and recombed the bags of shattered glass but the lovely baby Jesus was nowhere to be found.

How could we lose him? Its not that big a house and we don't own that much stuff.

This of course brought to mind an excellent joke about a boy, a bike, Santa Claus and Jesus' mother...

Finally, after many tense moments, we located the baby Jesus. He had managed to make his way around the corner into the family room, across to the far wall, apparently rebounded off of the steps leading into the room from the patio and came to rest under the ricketty television cart.

We were suitably impressed as we hope you are.

By this time, the leg on his creche was adequately mended and we were able to return the little baby to his manger. The manger was gently placed inside the stable on the now repositioned shelf and Joseph returned to his side. Finally, Mary was placed on the right and turned just slightly so she could gaze lovingly at her child. It was at this point that the sands began shifting. There was something off about Mary.

It wasn't something one could easily identify. She just didn't seem right.

Crap.

But what was wrong? Was it paranoia on my part?

I removed Mary and took her into the living room where there was better light.

Yep.

Mary had lost her thumb. Mind you, Mary's thumb was a mere millimeter in length. But it had been there outstretched like her other fingers toward this most precious gift from God, her child. Now not so much. Okay. Now not at all.

We combed the house. Every inch in the dining room, every inch of the alcove, the landing inside the vent, the hallway outside the bathroom, each bag of creche remnants. No thumb.

This led to a great conflict for Roland had purchased this immaculate creche for Mom as a present. And, as you will recall, Roland wasn't home yet.

Do we tell him and risk letting him down? Or do we count on his abstract personality and maintain silence?

We opted for silence.

A pact between conspirators.

It was at this moment that the first guests arrive. They were about 30 minutes late. Remarkable given their ETA was based on our knowledge of their location en route at the time of their call. Almost a miracle that they were late, though not as impressive as our reconstruction of the dining and living rooms in less than 45 minutes.

The night was fabulous- a smashing success for everyone. There was caroling and fellowship and laughter.

We, of course, couldn't bear the blood on our hands and confessed to Roland 10 minutes after he arrived. He agreed it was unfortunate and immediately got over it.


And that is how we lost Mary's thumb.

Hope you have enjoyed the story. It continues to be a source of endless delight for us.

Impatient impatiens

Eighty percent success rate on the shots- unfortunately about twenty percent of the time I hit either a fascial plane or an area without any fat. Then it really hurts. For both of us.

Otherwise, the week has gone pretty well. Wednesday and Thursday Mom had therapy then we had the weekend with lots of lazing about. Sunday was what Mom would call a 'Red Letter day.' after a joyful morning of crosswords and coffee, Mom and Rol went shopping for flowa's and groceries. They had a delightful time planting impatiens in mixed colors in the back. Afterwards, Rol helped Mom with a shower- how cool is that! No injury, no drama, just normal. How fab.

Today was one of the 'Days from hell.' Seven and a half hours of 'fun.' (Steinie knows what I mean.) Let me just say that the coil was succecssfully removed and leave it at that for now.

From the hinterlands of science-

j