From the rib of man

"Women were created from the rib of man to be beside him, not from his head to top him, nor from his feet to be trampled by him, but from under his arm to be protected by him, near his heart to be loved by him."

~David O McKay~

My friend had this quote posted on her facebook page for her status. I just had to post it here. What a great quote. It makes me think of Matt and what a fantastic husband he is. He truly does love me and makes me feel protected and safe, even from the other side of the world. I miss him so much, but I am reminded most days of what a blessing he is in my life. Our sons have such a great example of what they should grow up to be as a husband and father, and Maya knows (as you may have seen in a previous post) what she deserves in a future husband and father. Thanks for being you, Matt. We love you!

Boots

Internet and phone calls are hit or miss for Matt and I. He'd had a rough day and I tried to be a listening ear, but the phone connection was very muffled and I couldn't understand him. So this is what he wrote to me in an email:

It was a bad day today. We got a call that five American soldiers were being brought in after an IED. Two of them died on the way, another one on arrival. One was clinging to life with a hole cut in his neck by a medic so he could breathe. I took him to the operating room and pumped blood freshly taken from his fellow soldiers. He was bleeding so much I had to refill all the blood in his body twice. I squeezed breath into him by my hands because his lungs were too damaged to ventilate by machine, while I watched the surgeon squeeze his heart in the palm of his hands until his heart started working again. His heart stopped and started a few more times until he was stable enough to be evacuated to the big hospital in Bagram, where his nurse says he is still alive but in critical condition.

There is a custom here among the medics that you only pass on follow-up news if you have something good to tell. So I'm hoping to get an email or phone call, because if I don't I'll know what happened.

I am not allowed to tell you the name or show you the face of this brave soldier. Instead I have attached a picture of his blood on my boots, which I somehow don't have the heart to clean off until I know he is going to get better. But more than likely he will give every drop of his blood for our freedom and safety. Please keep him and his family in your prayers today. I could use a few too if you have time.

Matt

Mohawk

It was "Last of the Mohawkans" night on the porch of Forward Surgical Team Ghazni. Most of the men have concluded in much easier to have very short or no hair during deployment, and there's really no one to look good for (there is also no way to smell good for anyone). So we all shaved the sides, watched Last of the Mohicans together on the porch, and had a BBQ (as I'm sure we wouldn't have been let into the military dining facility). We shaved the rest after the movie, so right now I'm cue ball head, next week I'll be tennis ball head.

Operation Enduring Tedium: Kyrgyzstan and Afghanistan

Here is a view of my B-hut from the outside. Note the spilling sandbag decor.

This is the view from inside. The bare wood motif complements the rustic atmosphere of the local culture.

Three anesthesia providers from Travis Air Force Base in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. In the middle is Ryan Gibbons who is with me at Ghazni, on the right is Jason Bolt going to a different base to mentor Afghan anesthetists. With his last name, of course they sent him to a base divided into Camp Lightning and Camp Thunder.

These are our mean faces. Aren't we intimidating?

This bunker is where I got to enjoy my first few hours at Bagram Air Field in Afghanistan. Spent more time in the bunker than in my bed that first night. The smells are best left to the imagination.

Forever Changed

(This is how I still picture the NY skyline in my mind. When I fly home and the towers are no longer there, NY just doesn't look complete.)

Most adults can pretty clearly remember what they were doing the morning of September 11, 2001. They can remember when they first heard of a plane flying into a tower.

For me, this was a day my life was changed in more ways than one.

I was attending BYU in 2001 and Matt and I had been married for a little over a year. Matt was at work that morning. I had woken up and hopped in the shower. I always have the radio on while I get ready in the morning. After I turned the water off and was getting myself ready, my brain registered that the radio DJ had said a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. I grew up in NY about an hour away from the city. My high school friends were now attending college in the city. Parents of my friends worked there. So I was horrified and confused as to how a plane could crash into the tower. Then they mentioned a second plane had crashed. That's when it hit me: This was no accident. I had to sit down. I can still remember the feeling, the shock. I still get that same pit, that same dropping feeling in my stomach, when I see pictures and hear stories of this day.

I had classes to go to, so in a daze I continued to get ready and head to campus. Everyone was walking around shocked. Every TV on campus was surrounded by students watching the news. No one could look away.

I'm greatful that my family is safe, and that I didn't know at that time that my dad was coming home from a business trip in Boston (where one of the planes had taken off from).

The rest of the day was spent watching everything unfold on TV. I had no idea there were these terrorists out there, that our country could ever be in this kind of danger.

Despite the overwhelming news of this day, my brain, my body and my emotions still knew that my life could be changed in another way. The tragic day could not push out the thoughts that my family was about to change. Matt was half asleep on the couch watching the news while I took the test. He had no idea...I was pregnant.

This was also the day that I found out I was going to be a mother. I told Matt - probably not the best time. Information overload for him, I think. It took him a day or two to register this announcement. So far, the best and the worst day of my life.

When this all happened, Matt was in the process of applying to medical schools. Before this happened, he already had an interview set up at USUHS (Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences - the military's medical school). His interview was October 4th. As soon as 9/11 happened, I was very reluctant; reluctant for him to fly on an airplane; reluctant for him to join the military. I knew our country would soon be at war. (A real fear that made me scared to bring a child into this world)

Needless to say, Matt went, was accepted to the school, and that is the path we have followed. Maya was born a few weeks before Matt left for officer training camp and joined the military. Four years of Medical School, four years of residency, and now a year under his belt as a staff physician. Matt is an anesthesiologist in the Air Force, currently serving in an Army spot, deployed to Afghanistan - 10 years later.

Lots of emotions, lots of changes. My heart goes out to all the families who directly lost someone on that terrible day. My heart goes out to all the families of service men and women who lost a loved one while they were fighting for freedom. My heart goes out to all the families who have spent far too much time separated from their loved ones who are serving overseas. My heart is with my husband. I love you so much! Take great care of the soldiers and civilians who come under your care. Take care of yourself and please come home to us. We miss you so. Thank you for serving our country.

Did Matt forget to wipe his mouth after a meal? Should someone tell him that he has sawdust on his upper lip? Oh no, my firends, that is his first (and probably only) attempt at a mustache in his life. Dont try to see this with with your iPod; put your monitors on Hi-Def, and behold the horror.

For 35 years, I have avoided being coerced into any kind of mustache-growing event. While at Combat Skills Training, I was accused of "not being a team player" because I was the only one in my platoon who did not participate. You can see why.

Rock Star for a Week

It's not often during military training that I'm the leader of the pack. There is a reason my sister Becky has always smiled to herself when she thinks of me in the military. Add to that the fact even though I am Air Force, I am deploying with the Army and having to get used to that. In Army lingo, I am more often "ate up" than I am "squared away" when it comes combat, weapons, naming assault vehicles, etc.

For example, during my recent weapons testing with the M9 (pistol), the cops and marksmen in the class rolled their eyes when the instructor pointed out which end is the muzzle, how to insert the magazine, and how to clear a round out of the firing chamber. I was busy making mental notes as this was the second time in my life handling a pistol. The instructor tried to appease the audience tactfully with "I have to teach to the lowest level." Was I upset that she was looking my direction? Nope, just raised my hand high and said, "sorry guys...I'm from med group"

After I shot, another instructor went over my target with me, got a look on his face like he bit into a lemon unexpectedly, and clicking his tongue said,
"tck...tck...tck- uh, what do you do again, sir?"
"I'm a doctor."
"oh, thank G**."

No offense taken, my good man.

Well this week it turned around. We had 40 hours of classroom instruction on how to apply First Aid bandages and perform basic airway maneuvers (this is the Army version of the 3-hour course I had to complete with the Air Force). Sitting next to me was a cop who appeared to be in mental anguish trying to wrap his mind around "pneumothorax," a kind of chest injury. I explained it to him, and we soon agreed that when 'the pigspore hits the windspinner' he shoots the bad guys and I'll treat the wounded.

And you'll happy to know that after four years in a military medical school and another four years in trauma hospitals, I passed my First Aid class on the first try.

Military Appreciation

You have to be in a civilian setting to get the benefits of being in the military. Take getting airplane tickets for example. I get notified that I have to attend some training. To make this happen, there are about 12 people's desks I have to go to for signatures, then I have to fill out a form and cost analyses and justify the expense (umm...because the Air Force says I have to- what other justification do you want!?). I had carry these signatures to the travel agent, who then tells me, "everything looks fine. Now take it over to the travel director, have him sign it, and bring it back." After suppressing the urge to inquire 'why don't you take it?', I ask for directions. Turns out it is ten feet away. By a stroke of fortune, the appropiate person is there and signs my form, which I then hand carry back to the travel agent, who tells me I need three copies. I've been in the military long enough top know this means I get to make them and distribute them myself.

Contrast this with my experience at the airport. Since I am wearing a uniform, I am escorted to the front of the security gate and thanked for my service to the country for the first of no kidding twelve times that day. I walk past my departure gate to check my flight is on time, and without me even initiating an eye gaze towards the flight steward, he asks me to please come forward and give him my boarding pass. Knowing that this means the military has messed up my ticket, I comply "here you go, is there a problem?" Apparently the problem was that they wanted me to be in first class for free.

So next time you see someone in uniform flying first class, recognize that your tax dollars didn't put him there, some agent with a desire to show appreciation did.

Our Garden

Back at the end of April I posted about the beginnings of our first legit garden. Lots of the veggies started as seeds (above:carrots, cucumbers, peas, and some flowers). The kids have been very into it. They check on the plants every day and make sure they get plenty of water, but know not to give them too much. It's been amazing to watch a little tiny seed turn into some amazing fruits and vegetables.

The raised garden box that Luke and Matt built.

It's about six weeks later and our garden has transformed. We are so excited.

(Our cucumber plants have finally flowered and have little cucumbers finally growing - between the flower and the plant.)

Luke has already enjoyed a few of our home grown carrots. Here are some pics of maya and luke harvesting a few.

I'm most excited for our tomatoes. I love snacking on sliced up tomatoes.

And who doesn't love strawberries?!

Since April, we have added pumpkins, corn and watermelon to our garden. We'll keep you posted.

Residency Graduation

Back on June 4, 2010 (the same weekend as Maya's baptism) Matt graduated from his anesthesiology residency.

It's been quite a ride starting in the DC area where Matt attended USUHS (Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences) for his medical education. That was from Summer of 2002 through May of 2006. Maya was 2 months old when he started. Luke was born at the beginning of his 4th year of med school plus a few adventures in between.

From there we were moved to Travis Air Force base in California for a 1 year surgical internship. That year is a blur to Matt - very very long hours. During that crazy time we got the most amazing news that Matt had been accepted into the Anesthesia Residency program (There is only 1 in the Air Force so spots are very limited. It's quite competitive.) When that year was completed, we said "See ya!!!" to his surgical internship and headed to San Antonio, Texas where we would spend the next 3 years.
Matt really enjoys what he does and after 3 years of hard work, he's completed his residency and finally feels like he can tell people he's a doctor (even though he's technically been a doctor for 4 years already). We had and amazing time in San Antonio and made some really great friends.

Now we're back at Travis Air Force base for at least the next 4 years. Matt will deploy for the first time next summer. We'll have to wait and see what adventures await us here in Cali.

What are the odds???

Matt and I are working hard these days trying to get settled in our new home. Yesterday afternoon we decided to finally get started in the office. We had our computer set up within the first 3 days so we could have access to internet, but nothing in the room is located in the right spot. It's also the only room that I haven't unpacked any of the boxes. So any important missing items - ie; printer paper, the little box that has all the screws and nails and hardware for hanging everything on walls, wires, etc - are probably hidden in one of these office boxes, all of which are labeled "books". Needle in a haystack, baby. Matt was post call and kids were in school and Seth was napping, so we took the opportunity to start moving things around in the office. We wanted to move the computer to the oppposite wall. We start to unload the top of the desk and unplug wires when we notice that the internet wire that goes to the wall is pretty short and will not reach to the other wall. We can't simply switch it out for a longer phone cord because it is not "plugged" into the phone socket. The Comcast guy hook the wires directly from the wire to the wirebox inside the wall plate. Matt is ready remove the short wire and cut the end of our long one and connect the wires himself. I'm a little more reluctant. I wash my hands of it and tell Matt I want nothing to do with it and that he's making me nervous and I leave the room while he has his fun playing with wires. I come back a few minutes later and it seems that everything is fine. The longer wire is hooked up and Matt is showing me that the internet works. All right then. So we unplug everything and start moving furniture around. We get the computer all set back up on the desk and plugged in and we no longer have internet. I know that sometimes it's a matter of plugging things in and turning things on in the right order, but nothing's working. So I go to call Comcast and realize our home phone has no dial tone. Nothing! So Matt calls on his cell and talks to someone and nothing is working, so they say they'll send someone out the next day. So Matt and I are joking about how he broke the internet and phone and that's the only way he'll learn.
Today the Comcast guy came. He's here 5 minutes and tells us everything is working fine and all set up. Apparently, the tenants who lived here before us had scheduled for their service to be turned off on August 27 (yesterday). Comcast turned it off not realizing they had already started our service. It was an overlap.
It's just crazy that the turn off happened right during the time that Matt had been fiddling with the wires. Seriously, what are the chances?! It cracked us both up and I guess Matt didn't learn his lesson because he didn't actually break anything.