This year, as I have done many times before, I celebrated Thanksgiving with friends instead of family. The food was great, the company was wonderful, and the discussion was lively and fun. The people who did the most to make this meal happen are always the life of the party and have a special way of bringing folks together. I am thankful for having them in my life.
When I was a boy, it was our family's tradition for the women to prepare the feast and the men to go into the deer woods. Most years, the hunters came home empty-handed and we didn't really care that the venison was still in the woods because it's the opportunity to hunt that counts, not the kill. I was reminded of this today when I talked to my uncle on the telephone. Last summer, he had open heart surgery and is still recovering, but he was able to hunt in his favorite deer woods, in his favorite stand. He didn't bring home any venison, but he was thankful for the opportunity to hunt.
As a man, our Thanksgiving hunts with my son and nephews have given me a special appreciation for this family tradition. My son took his first deer on such a hunt and I have taken some too. I really felt it today as I thought back to those days. The camaraderie that hunters share cannot be replaced by any other event. Only hunters share the woods with their prey and with each other. Only hunters know the smells and sounds of the woods, and only hunters feel the cold air and feel the weight of steel in their hands. I am thankful to have had those opportunities to pass on my family's tradition and I hope to do it many more times in the future.
Today I feasted with friends, but it's not the same as hunting with family. I miss my family, but mostly, I am thankful to have them in my life.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
SNOW!!!
When I returned from Anchorage, I was welcomed by a fresh blanket of snow on the tundra. I have always liked the snow and cold so the sight of snow is comforting to me. I am going to try to do a little Cross Country Skiing this weekend. I am still weak so I don't think I will last very long. I have been getting a little exercise in the school gym a few nights a week in an attempt to increase my stamina.
The river is frozen and that means that I can ski, walk, or snowmobile out of the village. I can't wait until I'm strong enough to escape for a little while.
I got to do a little fishing through the ice last week. I went for a walk around the village and saw some folks fishing so I went to say hi and be nosey. One of the fishermen was one of our Yup'ik teachers and she was cold. She said "Hi Jerry. Here, catch some Pike. I'm cold." and she walked home. She had given me her fishing gear as she passed. I wasn't really dressed for ice fishing but I found a hole and started fishing. One of the other fellows on the ice was my colleague's brother. He chatted me up and shared some advice about how Eskimos do it.
As with everything else in the Yup'ik world, the fishing gear is basic and simple. No Tip-Ups, no miniature rods with tiny reels, and no depth finders. The gear is a stick about a foot and a half long with heavy cloth fishing line, a steel leader with a big jig on the end, and some fish gut on the hook. I love it! No sportsman toys to feed the ego are needed here because their fish aren't impressed.
I got to participate in another significant cultural event recently; a funeral. On of the men passed away from cancer. He was only 60 years old and well liked by the people. As you can imagine, there are no funeral homes here. Most often, the body of the deceased is returned to the home for viewing and grieving. I didn't know the man in life, but as a part of the community, I was expected to pay my respects to the family. I always get a little weirded out about seeing dead bodies. To me, it is not beneficial to the process of creating happy memories so I hate to do it. Luckily, one of my fellow teachers suggested that we go together so we did. It was an uneasy event but I survived it. The funeral was the next day and school was let out early and everyone was expected to attend that too. The deceased was a Moravian Christian. The service was all in Yup'ik and lasted two full hours. It was torture. I don't know what the minister said to send this fellow off, but it sure seemed proper to me. I didn't go to the grave side service because I was way under dressed for the weather (but I looked great!) and I had had enough Yup'ik praying and singing for one day. I hope my next cultural experience is a happy one.
The river is frozen and that means that I can ski, walk, or snowmobile out of the village. I can't wait until I'm strong enough to escape for a little while.
I got to do a little fishing through the ice last week. I went for a walk around the village and saw some folks fishing so I went to say hi and be nosey. One of the fishermen was one of our Yup'ik teachers and she was cold. She said "Hi Jerry. Here, catch some Pike. I'm cold." and she walked home. She had given me her fishing gear as she passed. I wasn't really dressed for ice fishing but I found a hole and started fishing. One of the other fellows on the ice was my colleague's brother. He chatted me up and shared some advice about how Eskimos do it.
As with everything else in the Yup'ik world, the fishing gear is basic and simple. No Tip-Ups, no miniature rods with tiny reels, and no depth finders. The gear is a stick about a foot and a half long with heavy cloth fishing line, a steel leader with a big jig on the end, and some fish gut on the hook. I love it! No sportsman toys to feed the ego are needed here because their fish aren't impressed.
I got to participate in another significant cultural event recently; a funeral. On of the men passed away from cancer. He was only 60 years old and well liked by the people. As you can imagine, there are no funeral homes here. Most often, the body of the deceased is returned to the home for viewing and grieving. I didn't know the man in life, but as a part of the community, I was expected to pay my respects to the family. I always get a little weirded out about seeing dead bodies. To me, it is not beneficial to the process of creating happy memories so I hate to do it. Luckily, one of my fellow teachers suggested that we go together so we did. It was an uneasy event but I survived it. The funeral was the next day and school was let out early and everyone was expected to attend that too. The deceased was a Moravian Christian. The service was all in Yup'ik and lasted two full hours. It was torture. I don't know what the minister said to send this fellow off, but it sure seemed proper to me. I didn't go to the grave side service because I was way under dressed for the weather (but I looked great!) and I had had enough Yup'ik praying and singing for one day. I hope my next cultural experience is a happy one.
Sorry... I was too sick to write!
Here are the past journals that I failed to send.
September 25th 2007
Some Time to Coast?
The 15th of September was our last Cross Country Race for the regular season. As expected, some of the larger schools put on a clinic and showed us how to run a race. These are also the schools that have tryouts and people make or do not make the team. I prefer to have the team where the athletes compete because they enjoy doing it. Well, most of them enjoy it.
One of my junior high girls got a wild hair you know where and decided that she was not going to run. Just flat refused to run. Sheesh, I would ever dream that an athlete would have the gall to quit the team and her friends half an hour before race time. Her reason was that she wanted to run in the high school race so her former friends from a different village wouldn’t see her running with the junior high. She said that running in her age group was humiliating, so she quit. UNBELIEVABLE!!! I was steamed and at the same time, very disappointed in her lack of humility. What an arrogant little terd.
The rest of the team made me proud. We weren’t the fastest, but no one tried harder than we did. The Atmautluak team ran until they could breath and then they ran without air. Aside from the quitter, only one person was not able to finish and that was for medical reasons. Maybe that’s why I have such a low opinion of that girl.
I enjoyed the evenings without practices and having Saturday to myself. I had time to grade papers and do teacher stuff. Then I was asked to coach Volleyball. I refused. Then it was wrestling and again, I refused. Then some of the kids who really wanted to wrestle laid on the sob story and the guild real thick and I caved in. I agreed to coach wrestling. I don’t know anything about coaching wrestling. Just like I didn’t know anything about cross country. Everyone has assured me that they will not hold my ignorance against me as long as we have a team and we get to compete. Yeah, right. Through further investigation, I learned that we have NO EQUIPMENT. No wrestling mats, only tumbling mats. No head gear or facemasks and none of those cute little “George of the Jungle” suits that real wrestlers wear. I think we are in for trouble and I’m in for a bunch of work.
Part of that work came in the form of moving the weightlifting equipment out of storage and into an old building. I decided to tackle this task on a Saturday so I lined up some help on Friday. Well, the kids that agreed to help me never showed up and the only other able bodied staffer went moose hunting. I am used to working alone so I started moving the stuff. One of my students, a 9 year old girl, asked to help. She proved to be a fantastic worker so she and I moved most of the equipment and toward the end some other little kids helped out too. Of course the kids wanted to “USE” the equipment. I let them play around with it and I only interfered when I saw something unsafe happening. One of the pieces is an Ab-Roller, this little wheel with handles for your stomach muscles. It’s the simplest thing to use but it packs a punch. When I was demonstrating it, I felt this burning sensation in my lower back. It felt very much like the burning sensation that I felt the last time I pulled my hamstring, back on the first day of cross country practice. Yep, you guessed it. I monkeyed around and hurt my back.
Sometimes when I strain my back, I can jog and work out the soreness. So on Sunday morning I set out on a jog. It was a cool, crisp morning about 8:00 a.m. I felt ready for a run. My back hurt just as I thought it would and I knew the medicine I needed was to run. When I left the porch and got on the boardwalk I started out at a slow jog to get warmed up and then I really did it. There was some of that invisible frost on the boards and my feet slipped. When I tried to regain my balance I felt more of that burning sensation in my back. I had officially goofed up my back. It hurt so bad that I couldn’t breathe. Instead of running, I walked for about a mile and returned home. Hoping that I wouldn’t get too sore but it was no use.
Since then, life has been no fun. It hurts when I move and it hurts when I sit still. It has me walking funny and tying my shoes is long term project. I have to stop every few seconds for the pain so it takes twice as long. I am slowly getting better but I hate not being able to do P.E. with my kids. I am hoping to be 80% right by the time wrestling starts and 100% by the first match. I have my fingers crossed for luck.
3 October 2007
Pneumonia!
Have you ever been under a lot of pressure at work or at home and just when you think you have the problem figured out and maybe even whipped, the unthinkable happens? That is happened to me last week. My learning curve for teaching and managing the "phased education model" has been very steep. Likewise, the coaching for wrestling and Native Youth Olympics (asst. coach) has demanded very much of my energy. Along with this I have been trying to exercise so I may regain some of my health and lose some weight. Two weeks ago I fought off a chest cold. Last Wednesday I felt achy and went to bed with a fever. On Thursday, I decided to go to the health clinic. I arranged for a substitute teacher (my very first ever) and meandered across the village.
It took me longer to walk across the village, this morning, than it normally takes for me to run the entire perimeter of the village. When I arrived I was told that I must make an appointment prior to coming because of their volume of patience. Luckily, there was a vacancy for me. We have no doctors or nurses here so we have health techs screen each patient and fax the initial findings to the hospital in Bethel. The hospital either asks for more information or decides on an appropriate course of action. It's not perfect system but it works.
In my case, everyone (including me) thought that strep throat was my bug and we took that course of action. I was given a prescription and some good advice sent on my merry way. I was also told that I could return to work on Friday.
Fridays morning came and I felt pretty good so I went to do me job. As the day ebbed, I could feel my life being drained away. It was almost like having one of those video game life meters that tell you when you are at half life and going down. My whole body hurt and my head was ready to explode. Breathing and pain were only things on my mind.
At the first opportunity, I went to the phone to schedule a follow up appointment with the clinic. I had my visit and as soon as I got home my phone was ringing. The hospital sent orders for me to get on the next available flight to Bethel. I had to go the emergency room.
What a might mare! Calling airlines for next available seats, packing for an overnight night stay (or more?), cash for the cab, where will I stay, where is the hospital, and on and on. Thanks to Tatiana, our secretary, and others I was able to make it to the hospital safely and in a timely manner.
The license bureau and the emergency room are two places that always take it on the chin as dens of wasted time. The ER at Bethel has set the standard for inefficiency. The first 2-HOURS I spent there were filled with the normal errands to here and to there for EKG, Chest X-Rays, and blood work; pretty typical stuff. The next 3-HOURS were spent trying to chat up the natives (only one taker), people watching, and a little long-range TV watching. The women here are giving up smoking. Instead, they are taking up dipping snuff. Yeah, like our country boys do. You can tell it in their smile. It is also appropriate to have take-out delivered to the EM so you don't starve while you wait. That too, was a 1st for me.
Finally! My name is called. I only had to wait 5 hours and 15 minutes for the moment. I met with a doctor Smith who had my best health in mind (that was sarcasm). He said "Jerry, I have reviewed your labs and x-rays and there is not a lot to see." "I don't think you have pneumonia, I think what you have is strep throat with some other viral crud that is going around." I was taken aback by this. All of the pain and vomiting and coughing of blood was just CRUD? What exactly is crud? Then he started asking me questions off of his checklist. These were the same questions that the 4 people prior to him asked and wrote answers to, in my chart. In fact, I could see those very forms on his clipboard. Instead of answering his questions I suggested that he look at the papers in his hand for the answer. Sure enough, the answers were in my chart that he had claimed to have read. By now I knew that something wasn't right and I was getting angry. Dr. Smith said "I think what we will do is give you a breathing treatment and send you on your way." I interrupted him. I said "What about the spot on the x-ray that is about here on my chest, pointing to my left ribcage, that is giving so much pain and what about my temperature?' He paused for a long moment, like kid who has just been caught. "Uh, well, of course I'll take a listen." He listened and said "I'll be right back." then he left for about 15 minutes. When he returned, he said "Jerry, I sort of lied to you a little." "Before when I told you that I looked at your x-rays and stuff, I hadn't." "You are right; there are signs of pneumonia in your labs and x-rays."
I can't believe that this guy was about to send me away because I didn't look sick enough to him. I wanted to punch him smack in his face. This could have been one of those weird cases of someone dying from something that is very controllable. And not just someone, ME!
On the bright side, I now know how painful pneumonia and strep throat are. I also know that if it doesn't sound or feel right, then it's not. Be ready to take care of yourself because, you may be your only source of care. I will get another blog entry written while I'm sick so hang in there my friends.
October 23rd.
Finally!
Since my last entry, my life got real serious. The pneumonia got worse and I had to have emergency surgery. When I went for my follow-up at the village clinic, the med. Tech. was alarmed that she couldn’t hear any air move in or out of my left lung. Once again, I had to take a trip to Bethel. This time I was to report to one of the clinics inside the hospital. I was a little more optimistic about this visit to the hospital than I was about the emergency room. I was foolish. I got more of the same run around and I heard those same words again; “you don’t LOOK like you’re that sick.” Once again, the doctor was going to send me home. I knew that she was making a mistake that I couldn’t live with. I also knew that if I was going to get well I would have to take matters into my own hands. First, I demanded to be admitted and transferred to Anchorage. They refused to admit me because I didn’t LOOK sick enough. They sent me out to get some lunch and when I came back I finally looked sick. One of the nurses noticed that I was in some respiratory distress and took me back to the exam room. I hammed it up a little bit to sell it because I needed to look sick enough to great proper treatment. Finally, the doctor said that I was going to be admitted, but not sent to Anchorage as I requested.
As usual, I had to have an IV so I could get fluids, and etcetera. At final count, I was poked thirteen times before I was properly needled. I still have bruises from it. I was in the hospital at Bethel for roughly three days and then transferred. Before I was transferred, though, the doctors tried to relieve some of the pressure in my chest by attempting to sick a small tube through my back into my chest cavity in order to draw off some fluid. They did this three times and each one failed. It was then that they had the big idea to evacuate me to Anchorage.
Things started to look up. I was put on a Cessna Citation business jet and flown quite comfortably to Anchorage. Once on the ground, I was sent to the very nice, very professional Providence Hospital in Anchorage. I was stabilized and made comfortable until I could get my turn in the Operating Room. To top things off, my wife and son flew to Alaska to be with me.
I was so very happy to see my family and I felt very much at ease. They stayed with me through my surgery and recovery and gave me all of the support I could possibly need. After that, I only saw them occasionally because they went sight seeing at every possible moment. They had a wonderful time and they filmed their adventures so I could share in their good time with me.
November 14th 2007
I'm much better now. Since I was out of the classroom for about a month, I have had a lot to do to get back on track. I think that the time for my excuses has passed so I'll be writing regularly again.
September 25th 2007
Some Time to Coast?
The 15th of September was our last Cross Country Race for the regular season. As expected, some of the larger schools put on a clinic and showed us how to run a race. These are also the schools that have tryouts and people make or do not make the team. I prefer to have the team where the athletes compete because they enjoy doing it. Well, most of them enjoy it.
One of my junior high girls got a wild hair you know where and decided that she was not going to run. Just flat refused to run. Sheesh, I would ever dream that an athlete would have the gall to quit the team and her friends half an hour before race time. Her reason was that she wanted to run in the high school race so her former friends from a different village wouldn’t see her running with the junior high. She said that running in her age group was humiliating, so she quit. UNBELIEVABLE!!! I was steamed and at the same time, very disappointed in her lack of humility. What an arrogant little terd.
The rest of the team made me proud. We weren’t the fastest, but no one tried harder than we did. The Atmautluak team ran until they could breath and then they ran without air. Aside from the quitter, only one person was not able to finish and that was for medical reasons. Maybe that’s why I have such a low opinion of that girl.
I enjoyed the evenings without practices and having Saturday to myself. I had time to grade papers and do teacher stuff. Then I was asked to coach Volleyball. I refused. Then it was wrestling and again, I refused. Then some of the kids who really wanted to wrestle laid on the sob story and the guild real thick and I caved in. I agreed to coach wrestling. I don’t know anything about coaching wrestling. Just like I didn’t know anything about cross country. Everyone has assured me that they will not hold my ignorance against me as long as we have a team and we get to compete. Yeah, right. Through further investigation, I learned that we have NO EQUIPMENT. No wrestling mats, only tumbling mats. No head gear or facemasks and none of those cute little “George of the Jungle” suits that real wrestlers wear. I think we are in for trouble and I’m in for a bunch of work.
Part of that work came in the form of moving the weightlifting equipment out of storage and into an old building. I decided to tackle this task on a Saturday so I lined up some help on Friday. Well, the kids that agreed to help me never showed up and the only other able bodied staffer went moose hunting. I am used to working alone so I started moving the stuff. One of my students, a 9 year old girl, asked to help. She proved to be a fantastic worker so she and I moved most of the equipment and toward the end some other little kids helped out too. Of course the kids wanted to “USE” the equipment. I let them play around with it and I only interfered when I saw something unsafe happening. One of the pieces is an Ab-Roller, this little wheel with handles for your stomach muscles. It’s the simplest thing to use but it packs a punch. When I was demonstrating it, I felt this burning sensation in my lower back. It felt very much like the burning sensation that I felt the last time I pulled my hamstring, back on the first day of cross country practice. Yep, you guessed it. I monkeyed around and hurt my back.
Sometimes when I strain my back, I can jog and work out the soreness. So on Sunday morning I set out on a jog. It was a cool, crisp morning about 8:00 a.m. I felt ready for a run. My back hurt just as I thought it would and I knew the medicine I needed was to run. When I left the porch and got on the boardwalk I started out at a slow jog to get warmed up and then I really did it. There was some of that invisible frost on the boards and my feet slipped. When I tried to regain my balance I felt more of that burning sensation in my back. I had officially goofed up my back. It hurt so bad that I couldn’t breathe. Instead of running, I walked for about a mile and returned home. Hoping that I wouldn’t get too sore but it was no use.
Since then, life has been no fun. It hurts when I move and it hurts when I sit still. It has me walking funny and tying my shoes is long term project. I have to stop every few seconds for the pain so it takes twice as long. I am slowly getting better but I hate not being able to do P.E. with my kids. I am hoping to be 80% right by the time wrestling starts and 100% by the first match. I have my fingers crossed for luck.
3 October 2007
Pneumonia!
Have you ever been under a lot of pressure at work or at home and just when you think you have the problem figured out and maybe even whipped, the unthinkable happens? That is happened to me last week. My learning curve for teaching and managing the "phased education model" has been very steep. Likewise, the coaching for wrestling and Native Youth Olympics (asst. coach) has demanded very much of my energy. Along with this I have been trying to exercise so I may regain some of my health and lose some weight. Two weeks ago I fought off a chest cold. Last Wednesday I felt achy and went to bed with a fever. On Thursday, I decided to go to the health clinic. I arranged for a substitute teacher (my very first ever) and meandered across the village.
It took me longer to walk across the village, this morning, than it normally takes for me to run the entire perimeter of the village. When I arrived I was told that I must make an appointment prior to coming because of their volume of patience. Luckily, there was a vacancy for me. We have no doctors or nurses here so we have health techs screen each patient and fax the initial findings to the hospital in Bethel. The hospital either asks for more information or decides on an appropriate course of action. It's not perfect system but it works.
In my case, everyone (including me) thought that strep throat was my bug and we took that course of action. I was given a prescription and some good advice sent on my merry way. I was also told that I could return to work on Friday.
Fridays morning came and I felt pretty good so I went to do me job. As the day ebbed, I could feel my life being drained away. It was almost like having one of those video game life meters that tell you when you are at half life and going down. My whole body hurt and my head was ready to explode. Breathing and pain were only things on my mind.
At the first opportunity, I went to the phone to schedule a follow up appointment with the clinic. I had my visit and as soon as I got home my phone was ringing. The hospital sent orders for me to get on the next available flight to Bethel. I had to go the emergency room.
What a might mare! Calling airlines for next available seats, packing for an overnight night stay (or more?), cash for the cab, where will I stay, where is the hospital, and on and on. Thanks to Tatiana, our secretary, and others I was able to make it to the hospital safely and in a timely manner.
The license bureau and the emergency room are two places that always take it on the chin as dens of wasted time. The ER at Bethel has set the standard for inefficiency. The first 2-HOURS I spent there were filled with the normal errands to here and to there for EKG, Chest X-Rays, and blood work; pretty typical stuff. The next 3-HOURS were spent trying to chat up the natives (only one taker), people watching, and a little long-range TV watching. The women here are giving up smoking. Instead, they are taking up dipping snuff. Yeah, like our country boys do. You can tell it in their smile. It is also appropriate to have take-out delivered to the EM so you don't starve while you wait. That too, was a 1st for me.
Finally! My name is called. I only had to wait 5 hours and 15 minutes for the moment. I met with a doctor Smith who had my best health in mind (that was sarcasm). He said "Jerry, I have reviewed your labs and x-rays and there is not a lot to see." "I don't think you have pneumonia, I think what you have is strep throat with some other viral crud that is going around." I was taken aback by this. All of the pain and vomiting and coughing of blood was just CRUD? What exactly is crud? Then he started asking me questions off of his checklist. These were the same questions that the 4 people prior to him asked and wrote answers to, in my chart. In fact, I could see those very forms on his clipboard. Instead of answering his questions I suggested that he look at the papers in his hand for the answer. Sure enough, the answers were in my chart that he had claimed to have read. By now I knew that something wasn't right and I was getting angry. Dr. Smith said "I think what we will do is give you a breathing treatment and send you on your way." I interrupted him. I said "What about the spot on the x-ray that is about here on my chest, pointing to my left ribcage, that is giving so much pain and what about my temperature?' He paused for a long moment, like kid who has just been caught. "Uh, well, of course I'll take a listen." He listened and said "I'll be right back." then he left for about 15 minutes. When he returned, he said "Jerry, I sort of lied to you a little." "Before when I told you that I looked at your x-rays and stuff, I hadn't." "You are right; there are signs of pneumonia in your labs and x-rays."
I can't believe that this guy was about to send me away because I didn't look sick enough to him. I wanted to punch him smack in his face. This could have been one of those weird cases of someone dying from something that is very controllable. And not just someone, ME!
On the bright side, I now know how painful pneumonia and strep throat are. I also know that if it doesn't sound or feel right, then it's not. Be ready to take care of yourself because, you may be your only source of care. I will get another blog entry written while I'm sick so hang in there my friends.
October 23rd.
Finally!
Since my last entry, my life got real serious. The pneumonia got worse and I had to have emergency surgery. When I went for my follow-up at the village clinic, the med. Tech. was alarmed that she couldn’t hear any air move in or out of my left lung. Once again, I had to take a trip to Bethel. This time I was to report to one of the clinics inside the hospital. I was a little more optimistic about this visit to the hospital than I was about the emergency room. I was foolish. I got more of the same run around and I heard those same words again; “you don’t LOOK like you’re that sick.” Once again, the doctor was going to send me home. I knew that she was making a mistake that I couldn’t live with. I also knew that if I was going to get well I would have to take matters into my own hands. First, I demanded to be admitted and transferred to Anchorage. They refused to admit me because I didn’t LOOK sick enough. They sent me out to get some lunch and when I came back I finally looked sick. One of the nurses noticed that I was in some respiratory distress and took me back to the exam room. I hammed it up a little bit to sell it because I needed to look sick enough to great proper treatment. Finally, the doctor said that I was going to be admitted, but not sent to Anchorage as I requested.
As usual, I had to have an IV so I could get fluids, and etcetera. At final count, I was poked thirteen times before I was properly needled. I still have bruises from it. I was in the hospital at Bethel for roughly three days and then transferred. Before I was transferred, though, the doctors tried to relieve some of the pressure in my chest by attempting to sick a small tube through my back into my chest cavity in order to draw off some fluid. They did this three times and each one failed. It was then that they had the big idea to evacuate me to Anchorage.
Things started to look up. I was put on a Cessna Citation business jet and flown quite comfortably to Anchorage. Once on the ground, I was sent to the very nice, very professional Providence Hospital in Anchorage. I was stabilized and made comfortable until I could get my turn in the Operating Room. To top things off, my wife and son flew to Alaska to be with me.
I was so very happy to see my family and I felt very much at ease. They stayed with me through my surgery and recovery and gave me all of the support I could possibly need. After that, I only saw them occasionally because they went sight seeing at every possible moment. They had a wonderful time and they filmed their adventures so I could share in their good time with me.
November 14th 2007
I'm much better now. Since I was out of the classroom for about a month, I have had a lot to do to get back on track. I think that the time for my excuses has passed so I'll be writing regularly again.
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