Paperwork and reading

I've finished all my paperwork, it's been emailed and handed in as appropriate. I didn't discover anything new about myself, which was reassuring and disappointing too. I've known myself pretty well for a long time now. It's one of the things I really like about St. Benedictine's rule of life, about time to think, about reading, about prayer, about aging. I wonder if the folks who write the report will reflect things back to me that I didn't catch in my own reflective light of the mirror. In about 2 weeks I'll head out of town for the second half, more papers to fill out and I imagine one-on-one talking time.

I've been penciled into the Bishop's early 2011 schedule, assuming the report results get to him in time, then with one day to spare the COM meets. I might be there, won't know until well the day before. I hope so, as I know y'all can imagine, just how much I hope so.

I told a fellow discerner, my train is nearing the end of the tunnel, I can see the light and traces of the station. And as I shared with a different discerner, my coracle is getting ever closer to land, just waiting for the tide to bring me in now.

I'm ready for the next Chapter, but then I need to keep reminding myself this Chapter hasn't quite finished yet, stay present, stay focused.

The Bishop suggested an emergent church book for me to read. It's good but it's not the language that speaks to my heart, so I'm very ready to get to the end of it. I am however, reading some awesome books: Encouraging the Heart (a leadership book), and The Wisdom Jesus. I'm also skimming through my emergent church books, to keep that verbiage fresh in my vocabulary.

After my evaluation visit, I'll put a strong focus on out-loud articulating of why this and not that, what does xyz mean to me, who is x to me, what do I feel etc. to. My practice opus is getting longer; it's my placeholder of thoughts already articulated, now penciled all over with changes and additions.

And just in case: A early Happy Thanksgiving to you all and safe travels.

And she's off to the next step

My meeting went very well, and I got permission to move onto the next step which is the career and pysch eval. I was talking with my cousin and she laughed at me, she said you realize it's kinda weird to be so excited about getting a psych eval.

If the report gets compiled and to the Bishop in time, and we can meet in time, then I might just make it to the January COM which would be awesome!!

Meet with Bishop and a Nice Surprise

So I'll start with the surprise. I had a perio cleaning this morning and right from there a PT appointment. And somewhere within that time my wife came by and left me a wonderful card and two little gifts. I was sorry to have missed her but I still very touched.

I meet with the Bishop this Wednesday. I knew I'd be nervous, but I didn't anticipate the level of nerves that would kick in and they kicked in about a week ago. I'm closer to being more me, and more me before a big next step moment. I decided to take most of the afternoon off. I was worried that with the pace at work something would come up and I wouldn't have enough time to mentally compose myself between the drive from work to the Diocesan offices.

I plan to say some prayers and just talk out loud to myself and center. I only iron for big occasions, so I'll iron the night before, and stay as neat as one can after putting on a coat and driving in your car; however, I don't want to look too pressed because that's not me either.

I keep reminding myself of what I've told myself from the beginning: I have to be me, they have to love me for me cause that's all I've got and that's who God called. Not some version of me I think maybe I should contort myself into.

So my hope for myself at my meeting is that I'm my articulate self, that who I am shines through any nerves I may have and that I settle into the conversation with ease.

Thankfulness and Frustration

Into the morning chill
dog and I went
both of us noses buried downward.
Crisp air slightly stinging
then I looked up
not many stars but those that were
were brilliant.

I'd been doing quite well actually with letting timelines go, then...well, life intervenes and questions get asked. Sonshine asked me if he'd be going to middle school here in the land of snow. It hurt to tell him that I didn't know, that I would give so to be able to tell him; especially knowing how much uncertainty makes him anxious. I'm trying to let go of my frustration around this part of the process, this part drives me to hair pulling at times. If I'm ever a priest and if I ever get any say in how the discernment process will work, timelines will be allowed.

Dreams and Nerves

Strange dreams as the weather begins to change.

As y'all know I was in the military a long long time ago. I've never once had dreams about being in the military until very recently. I dreamt I was on a ridge line with another officer and we're firing our rifles down at insurgents. Then the dream cuts to a group of insurgents who have a plan to take us out, then the dream returns to me (though I look nothing like me) and the other officer and we thwart the plan. Then my rifle cartridge is empty, only I can't seem to find my ammunition, and instead I begin to pour water from my canteen into the place the cartridge would go. And I'm wondering when the other guy is going to notice and what is he going to think, only I can't seem to stop pouring the water into my weapon. Then I awaken.

I rarely dream about my dad, maybe once every few years or more...the dream is where my dad is telling me not to tell the commission that I'm really good at all this stuff, because they'll think I'm arrogant and I'll blow my opportunity to be a priest. Then the alarm went off.

Neither of these dreams was pleasant, and I haven't spent much time thinking about them. They just make me nervous.

As I get closer to my meeting with the Bishop, I get more nervous. I'm biggest fear during this whole process has been that I'll get tongue tied or go blank. I need to start practicing answering questions he'll most likely ask, not to have the right answer, but so that I know an answer will come out, and that it'll be a decently formulated thought (at least that's my hope). And I've been periodically rereading my packet so that is fresh in my head. Anyways blessings.

Wounded Sides

Susan Russell over at her "Inch at a Time" blog summed up my own frustrations about ++Rowan William's latest statements about homosexuals. Apparently homosexuals are a wound in the side of the Church; however, if you pledge celibacy then he might consider you for the episcopate.

There's the link:
Headline was Archbishop of Canterbury

She's Gone Away

I've been visiting and bringing communion to an elderly woman, who I'll call May, for nearly two years every Sunday unless one of us was sick or out of town.

Over time May would share or indicate that she felt she had lost the meaning of her life. She couldn't see how her life mattered anymore and was ready to die. She would ask why God kept her alive. She was terrified of living in a nursing home. She would have periods of sequestering herself away followed by periods of engaging with others.

When she would engage with others and share about these experiences she just glowed. I told her a number of times that she had a gift for listening and a knack for asking just the right questions. I had hoped that she would find meaning, her meaning within her interactions with others.

But something changed and it changed all of a sudden. I had gone to visit but she wasn't there, so when I returned the following week we visited. And in the course of our conversation I realized that she didn't know who I was. So I worked in my name within our conversation, but that didn't seem to help. And then I realized she was anxious because she didn't know why I was there with her. So I asked her if she would like to have communion now and she said no. I then asked her if she would like me to return next Sunday and she said yes.

Over the course of the next month May would become more confused, and she was returning to a time of her childhood. And that's when I began to prepare myself that one Sunday I would visit and she would no longer be there because to live where she was requires a certain amount of being able to take care of yourself and a certain amount of presentness.

Last Sunday was the Sunday where her small "apartment" was completely empty. Even though I knew it was coming, I miss May. I worry about May - she's now where she was most afraid of going.

Physical Therapy

So I met with my docter for my amazingly short post-op appointment; however, all looks well in the land of my internal part. She said I can stay off the expensive med, but stay on the other med until I can start physical therapy and see how that goes. If all goes really well I may be medicine free. So, I've never been more excited to start physical therapy in my life; however, the physical therapist is booked until the end of October (but I'm first to call on the cancellation list).

I also want to throw a cyber thank you to my wife for being with me while I waited to go into the surgical area, and for waiting with me in the recovery area. I wish hospitals could be a less scary space, and I suppose if you work there it isn't a scary space. But, when you're there cause you're body needs lookin at or fixin it's a scary space (at least it is for me). I wonder if as I go on more Pastoral Care team visits the hospital will change for me; I hope so, and I hope I can for that brief time help someone else feel less worried/afraid/alone too.

And they send me on my way

I went before the vestry with my PDC rep and gave a brief statement, and then answered the questions the Vestry members had, and then they voted (all in favor) to support my application/recommnedation to the Bishop for postulancy.

When I left the meeting I had to "pinch myself" it hadn't quite settled into my sense of reality. Then I called the wife to tell her the wonderful news.

Now I'll be able to meet with the Bishop and if that goes well start what I call the diocesan side of the discernment process. Hopefully, I can meet with him by early October. But, what I'm really hoping for is to meet with him before the end of September; we'll see.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had my procedure today. There is one very small area but not enough for me to be on really expensive medicine. So, by Tuesday that will be my last dose. I'll meet with the doctor on Friday and see where we go from here.

Tomorrow I get the last of my stitches out. Let me tell ya, gum grafts hurt.

Life is good.

Inkling 14: Meditation and Reflection

Inkling 14: Meditation and Reflection

That all meetings should start with a 5 minute meditation and then a Bible passage where everyone reflects on what word or phrase struck them, what is the passage saying to the individuals, what is the passage calling you to do in the week ahead. As a reminder of the importance of our relationships with God, self, and other.

What do nearly tweener boys talk about?

On our way home today I asked Sonshine, "What do boys talk about when there's only boys around?" Reply: "Video games and sports." Me: "Do you want to watch more sports to have something to umm, more to say about sports?" Him: "Nah, we just talk about who's our favorite teams for the different sports."

Apparently Sonshine sees just enough sports on TV to contribute, no ESPN analysis yet required. Soon girls won't be these eewy creatures to be run from...though the girls have started to notice him and he doesn't seem to mind in that surly posturing boy way that they do.

Did I just read that right?

So I was going through FaceBook to see what my friends are up to, and my cell rang so I answered it, and I happened to glance to the side and see a pregnant belly, which led to reading the caption...see picture below:

I almost clicked it, but I don't want FB thinking I'd like to see more Ads like this one. Does taking the drug to prevent masciline daughters then create feminine boys? And who would even think of taking a drug like that when it's scary enough hoping that the baby is born healthy.

Ugh, I could go on and on about all the reasons this Ad is wrong and offensive...but my kiddos are growing impatient that their masciline mama isn't ready to play yet.

The beginnings are piling up

I have this habit of reading 5 or so books at the same time. Usually this isn't a problem; however, I've flooded my queue with heavier reading. Heavier in that most of it isn't fluff reading, but reading to retain which causes me to read a little slower, pause for reflection more often, and a need to set it aside long enough for my unconscious brian to sit with it too.

Spanish study is going well while Greek continues to flounder.

I watched "The Buddha (2010)" last night. It's well done, and interesting; however, there's a near constant soft music going in the background that if you're tired will soothe you right to sleep. It's a 2hr documentatry, and my subconscious heard the last half of part 2 more then I did. It was also neat seeing someone I know in a "real live" documentary.

I've been itchy to get outside and take some photos, but the family schedule still has us with longer commutes then we're used to. Though the plan is to go to the Fair this weekend - just need to remember to bring the camera.

I'm ready for Summer to be over and for Fall to begin.

Adrenaline

I wasn't one to have panic attacks as a child, teenager, or young adult. Panic attacks became part of my life when I started recognizing that something was wrong with my body in my late 20s, but I couldn't figure out what, nor were the doctors I was seeing at the time able to diagnose the problem either. The symptoms I have were beginning to present themselves when I lived in Panama with my ex-husband. Now my next statements are not a ding at military doctors, but more at the system; it's rare for you to see the same doc twice on purpose, you tend to get who ever is available that day. If you do see the same doctor more then once it's because I treatment plan is in place. Luckily we were close to returning to the U.S. and I was close to getting my degree with "real" health insurance and could see a "real" doctor. By this time, I'd been going in circles with the doctors for 1.5 years. So, when the symptoms would flare, and usually at night I'd start panicking, and I'd end up flooding my body with adrenaline. At least for me, I find that that surge of panic has a very metallic taste. Flooding my body with adrenaline did not help, and often made things worse. I can't tell you how elated I was when I saw my PPC doctor, explained my symptoms and within a month had a referral to a specialist.

Within 3 months of seeing the specialist, my body stopped being my enemy (well, I stopped seeing my body as the enemy). She said I think it's this and let's try this and go from there. The panic attacks stopped, because I now knew that these symptoms have a name, and medicines, and that the flares will pass, and best of all -- she didn't tell me it was all in my head like my ex-husband and the military doctors. I think her believing me was the most important medicine she could have given me. She gave me a gift that day.

So, a few days ago I had a full blown panic attack in the middle of the night like one at the very beginning when I didn't know what was wrong with my body. Because now I don't know what these symptoms really are, and is the medicine doing potential damage to my body for no reason. The wife held me, and tried to reassure me, to relax...try to breathe - use meditation...all good advice, but hard to put into being when fear gets in the way. I couldn't take deep breaths, I couldn't pray the prayers I could think of because they had too many words, in the end I used a military cadence: left, left, your left right left. I could match short breaths to the words, the familiar rhythm, and I fell back asleep.

Over the past few days I had to ask myself what's the worse that could happen? And I went to all of those places - cancer, removal of body part, a bag attached to my body, new meds, new exercises. Did I/do I think I have cancer, no, I don't because I don't think you can have cancer for over 8 years and not show signs of it (and if you can, keep that to yourself please). Do I think I'll need a body part removed or an apparatus added, no because my symptoms though bad for a healthy person are mild to moderate for someone with my diagnoses (though an apparatus still scares me). New meds, not such a bad thing especially if I can get off the drug that every person with xyz gets prescribed and there's no generic, and it's the one that isn't good to be on. New exercises, hey if that's all it takes to make my body part work lead the way. I looked up what the new specialist thinks I could have instead, and it's way less scary. Finally, I realized if I was diagnosed correctly then my life doesn't change. But, if I was misdiagnosed then there's the possibility for improved quality of life. This has helped, I'll get worrisome, but not overcome.

The other thing I realized is that I have to let go of the shame I feel at having my condition. You can't contract it, it might not be hereditary, they don't know why or what causes people to get the condition, and they're not even sure it's been "properly named." The shame shut me down (I allowed the shame to shut me down) during my visit with the new specialist. And that has caused me anxiety, but when we meet for my pre-op appointment, I'm going to tell her about my feelings of shame, I am going to describe my symptoms, I am going to ask questions about "bad" med, and then I'll ask her to now begin explaining the pre-op stuff. I claim my condition, it doesn't claim me. Reading "Kitchen Table Wisdom" helped alot, and I had no clue about the author's medical condition the morning I heard that wee bit on NPR. Her own story is woven into the book, and as I finished it last night, it occurred to me that her medical condition did not stop her from living, it changed how she lived, but it didn't keep her from living.

Naming my condition in my blog makes me feel weird, I'm not there yet, maybe I won't ever be there. But, I can now say and spell it without having to use it's acronym and then slaughter the only part I could remember hoping the medical professional could fill in the rest. I've finally gone to the 2 big websites and went through the content, there's two books I'll get if I was correctly diagnosed. And if I was misdiagnosed I'll research and ask better/more questions, and I won't feel ashamed.

I keep thinking that this has been a year of facing my worst fears, I hope I'm done, at least for a good while anyways.

Not liking the start of this 40s thing

So when I turned 30 I've dubbed it the year my body began to disfunction. Inner ear imbalance leading to temporary vertigo. The abdominal area as a whole picking up 2 new acroynms of life changing chronic conditions. I don't remember anymore what a normal fully healthy body feels like; I do know what normal for me feels like with every great once in awhile a slow awareness/realization of "oh, hey, is this what a normal body feels like" it's a wonderful moment that I try to savor for as long as possible. I try not to stress out when my conditions "flare." I thank God every day that my conditions are both mild to moderate and not disabling, I pray for healing in whatever form.

So when I turned 40 I was scared that something new would come or my conditions would suddenly change. So far "new" is my mouth. I have to get a gum graft and an information seeking biopsy done (no worries of cancer). I have some more major work coming in the Fall. And 1 of my conditions I've had for a very long time might have been misdiagnosed. But I won't know until the end of September - I have a inpatient procedure the 2nd week of September so I'll take prayers for all going well; and get results at the end of the month. If I have been misdiagnosed (which I'm not entirely convinced of) then I can get off a medication which isn't good to be on long-term and it's been long-term a few years ago. It's incredibly expensive, causes dizziness, and fatigue. Hence a good portion of my fatigue is medication based.

Part of me is afraid it will be something worse, part of me hopes it's something else that a differnet medicine would work better for me, part of me just wants well enough to be well enough.

I don't want my body to fall apart every decade. I keep reminding myself that my life is not my body, that whatever comes my way I can cope with with God's help and the love of my family and friends.

Eudaimonia

Eudaimonia, a type of happiness that rests on the realization of personal goals and potential. I just discovered this word while reading this really good article written for Psychology Today on meditation: Mastering your own mind.

On my way to church yesterday I caught a snippet of Speaking of Faith, and heard some of her interview with Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen. Dr. Remen spoke about the power of stories and about how doctors have a love for their patients and want to see them get well, stay well, be well, but also about how they don't feel they have the time to talk to their patients about feelings but instead focus on treatment/treatment strategies. Then I caught mention of Dr. Remen's book "Kitchen Table Wisdom" and I checked it out of the library later that day. I haven't read far into the book yet, but it too is good.

Are there coincidences, probably not, so I think of late I'm being reminded of a few things:
1. I need community, well really I'm learning to know when to ask for help, which involves community.
2. I need to meditate, and I've begun with the wife going along with me (humoring perhaps), to do a 10 minute meditation with the kiddos right before bedtime. Next step extend that time into my own meditation time.
3. I thrive on stories, the sharing of stories, the listening to stories, and not just those within the pages of a book, but real live in-person told stories. It's also I've realized what I like about blogs, blogs that people write about what's up in their life; blogs that people write about a vocation I hope one day to be a part of.
4. Facing my worst fear(s) isn't always as bad as I thought it would be.

I find I keep walking between a certainty that I'm on the correct path, and a well what if it's no then what...and if the what if is so then it will be what should come to be - however, it needs to be a vocation that involves story sharing and helping others. I believe this is how I cope with ambiguity: I visualize being a priest, a pray for guidance from God...and then in those times of doubt I allow myself to imagine a life where I'm not a priest. I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm trying to plan and as little as possible control my future, which I do and don't have control over ya know :)

As September gets closer, I find myself excited and anxious; I'm ready to resume the next steps of my process. There were things I needed to learn this Summer, and though Summer isn't over I am ready and expectant for the Fall.

Water

My friend murat got me thinking about water, and this got me thinking about my own experiences with water.

I've never really learned how to swim, I can float some, and tread water, but I'm not fluid within the waters be they river, lake, or ocean. I've gotten much better as my children truly enjoy the water and could and do spend enormous amounts of time in it.

When a was around 4 my mom signed me up for swimming lessons and that experience was so traumatic for me that it colored how I saw and experienced water for a very long time. I appreciated the water, I found it immensely beautiful but had zero desire to immerse myself within, I was happy just to dangle my feet in. Anything more and panic would set in.

The irony of all this is I grew up in Michigan surrounded by The Great Lakes.

The Great Lakes - Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie and Ontario - are known for their beauty and the wealth of resources within and around them. The combined lakes contain one-fifth of the world's surface fresh water, and they are often referred to as the "sweetwater seas". The Great Lakes could cover the entire continental United States with over 9.5 feet of water. They are large enough to influence the regional climate, cooling summers and tempering winters, as well as increasing amounts of rain and snow in the region. A world-renowned fishery, thousands of acres of forests, major mineral and metal reserves and rich agricultural land provide a balance of economic opportunity within the basin. In addition, the lakes and their surroundings provide many recreational opportunities and an appealing place to live and work.

http://www.michigan.gov/deq/0,1607,7-135-3313_3677---,00.html

One of the beautiful aspects of parenting is when your child(ren) help you see something anew. Their love of the water helped me let go of my fears. I didn't want to keep them from enjoying something and I really didn't want my fear of water to be passed along to them; however, they couldn't go in by themselves, so we ventured into the waters together. It started with them only going in up to their necks, and then only going in up to my neck (this is still true for SweatPea), and now at least in pools Sonshsine has free reign.

So all this gets me thinking about family/community, at its best, walking together - growing together. It gets me thinking about all the leaps of faith I've made in my life. I'm not ever going to be this great swimmer, and I have no desire to be, but I am thankful for finally getting in past my knees.

Tao Te Ching:

The best are like water. Water benefits all things and does not compete with them. It flows to the lowest level that people disdain. In this it comes near to the Way.

I love this band

Bowling For Soup: The Great Burrito Extortion Case
"I'm Gay"

(This fucking song is all personality)
(Dude, that's the shit!)

Well we've all heard about
how the guys in the band
Weren't the popular kids in school
And now you hate your parents
'cause of the way you turned out
But in the end the blame's on you

And we all sympathize with your torn-apart heart
And your really artistic worldly views
It sells records when you're sad these days
It's super cool to be mad these days

I think rock and roll is really funny
when it's serious

Don't hate us 'cause we're happy
Don't hate us 'cause we're beautiful
Don't hate us if we make you smile
Or if we go the extra mile
To make someone feel better
on a really shitty day
And if you're hearing what I'm saying then
I want to hear you say, "I'm gay!" (I'm gay!)
Say, "I'm gay!" (I'm gay!)

Let's start a movement, let's start it right now
And if you don't know where to start
I can show you I'm your new team captain
Put your left hand over your heart
and repeat after me

It's perfectly fine to be a happy individual
It's perfectly fine to be a happy individual
Chris, Gary? You guys wanna join in?
(Yeah, buddy. Sure. Sorry Dude)
It's perfectly fine to be a happy individual
It's perfectly fine to be a happy individual
Very Nice. Very Nice.

Don't hate us 'cause we're happy
Don't hate us 'cause you're miserable
Don't hate us if we make you smile
Or if we go the extra mile
To make someone feel better on a really shitty day
And if you're hearing what I'm saying then
I want to hear you say, "I'm gay!" (I'm gay!)
Say, "I'm gay!" (I'm gay!)

That's right, ladies and gentleman!
Pick up the phone
'cause Bowling For Soup is on the line!
And you don't have to be sad anymore!
You don't have to be mad anymore!
We can all join hands and do ring around
the freaking rosie!
In fact, can we can get some "La la"s up in here?

It sells records when you're sad these days
It's super cool to be mad these days
I think rock and roll is really funny
When it's serious

Yo, where my "La la"s at!

La la-la la, la-la la-la
La la la la
La la-la la, la-la la-la
La la la la
La la-la la, la-la la-la
La la la la
La la-la la, la-la la-la
La la la la
La la-la la, la-la la-la

--And if you're looking for something new: The Pinker Tones

In the land of declentions

I orginially misspelled declentions as declination and I think that mental slip was probably quite accurate. My Greek study buddy is feeling the same way...so, our solution is to stick to our schedule, use the book but start incorporating reading and translating else we'll fall right into the ravine and/or never lever the author's "Fog". We also both struggle from the well, yeah I speak English but you want to to parse what?

--- Warning, you've heard this all before ---
I was reading another's blog about being overweight and the frustrations about weight and society and body image projected on women and weight loss should be about an integrated body-mind way of being and all other sorts of interesting things...then my mind wandered over and into wasn't there a time when plump meant healthy and wealthy? Wouldn't he make a great catch cause if he's plump you know he can feed you?

Now adays it seems we associate thin with successful and plump with loser...how in the world does this happen, when did this happen? Oh wait a minute...advertising...first there's the ads to come to restaurant x and try this new tasty meal deal...then there's the ads for beer...then there's the ads for erectile dysfunction junction...and then there's the ads for leaky bladders, depression, breathing...and then there's the clothing, make-up, diet ads...my head is reeling after an hour long TV show from the mixed messages.

With all that said, why do I want to exercise...because I don't like seeing my body slow down sooner then it should, I want to be walking when I'm 90 and happy to be alive at 90, I want to like my body better - I want the me within to match the me presenting, I want to feel sexy with the lights on if ya know what I mean, I want the opportunity to revel in my body like I should of when I had one in my 20s but was so lost inside had no clue that I was one sexy mamacita; I say all this as a reminder to myself for those times when all I want to do is plop. I'm not a plopper but I'm becoming one...I feel so like a broken record, but at here people can stop reading or skip to the end. The DJ keeps scracthing tired and exercise and oh pray...but the flip side is that I love my kiddos, my wife, my "church stuff", not my job-that's there so that other good things can happen in my life. I looking forward to DJ play that funky record integrated whole.

Can I pass out out yet?

Ugh, yes, yet again...I thinks it's one of those years, or maybe it's just NE. I am very tired, physically tired. I was emotionally tired too, but not so much now. Sonshine and Sweatpea were in Summer Camp together: Sweatpea loves it, Sonshine HATED it. So, now we're driving 35 minutes to one town to drop off Sonshine at his new camp (which he loves), and then driving back into our town and past our house to drop off Sweatpea at her camp, then driving back into downtown to work. Repeat above but for other parent and add 10mins to the commute to go get Sonshine. Total commute time: 1hr 30mins.

This means that I'm up at 5am so that I can walk the dogs and have 20 minutes for the Daily Office (well only the readings) and if there's any time "left over" that's my meditation time. Then it's time to get the kiddos up and moving and ready around 6am: Sonshine gets to stay in bed until 6:15-6:20am because he's all business; Sweatpea is slower then molasses and needs constant encouragement to get the lead out. Then it's get myself ready, pack my lunch sack, get dishes into or out of dish washer, get laundry out of dryer and possibly folded, get big dog into crate, and children into the car. One plus is that I'm getting quality NPR time whilst in the car.

I wish I knew how to squeeze more energized morning hours into my day; I'm a morning person...I want to read and exercise and think and pray in the morning. Evenings I want to relax and listen to my kiddos, not study, not exercise. But, ya know that work thing tends to get in the way.

Speaking of studying...I was right on track, until this last crazy week and a half. But in order to stay on track I've gotta quit with the excuses and do things in the evening I'd rather do in the morning. I actually thought about getting up at 4am, but the thought of being in bed at 8:30pm is really uncool.

And in the World of Periodontal Dentistry...I'm scheduled for a gum graft...apparently I've got recession in my mouth happening and I could wait or I can be proactive (so says P. Dentist). I'm actually pretty nervous about this cause my body can't even tolerate a splinter without instant redness and irritation - my wife is always amazed at how quickly my body reacts to anything not of itself, like earrings or nail polish or perfume. My body flat out says no way whatever were you thinking. So, I told P. Dentist no way to 'gums in a can' option, we'll use my own gums thank you very much. And none of this is cheap, every time we get ahead in the doctor visit budget bucket my mouth goes "oh really, I know exactly how you'll be spending that money te-he."

And total randomness - I really dig BostonMed, it's really well done. I love the stories, each episode(s) follows a doc or two and a nurse and some patients. Until last night all the patients had lived or had successful outcomes, last night was a brief  moment into a man dying. It left me thinking about dieing with grace. My wife looked at me and told me that she couldn't run into the room like his wife did, she culdn't be in there holding my hand and watching me die. I told her she had to be in there, and she joked that the dialog would go like this:
Me: Haaannnd...
Hospital Staff: What's she saying?
Me: Haaannnd...
Hosptal Staff: What?!
Wife: She saying hand, she wants me to hold her hand, and I'm not doing it.
Me: B***h...hold my haandd...